#i woke up to me ACTUALLY SPITTING ON MY MYSELF???

[darby-rowe]

.

[naldthal-thetraders]

Hope it helps about my Nald'thal takes, but ;

they're trans, coded non-binary, he/she/they for both. You can refer to them as anything granted.

I may have projected a lot onto Thal, mental & physical health combined in shambles, barely hanging on, but thriving nonetheless. His arms & ankles are lined with flesh-like wounds, their purposes mainly due to ; his purpose & role over the underworld. The pain is consistent, unless tended too - n usually makes walking Really difficult. My interpretation is basically disabled.

Nald’s case is still a blur, as I’ve latched onto Thal a lot more, but Nald is also capable of making himself physically unwell due to overextending his emotions & energy (big burn out). 

Overtime...more development for the Twins. In my eyes they have their sibling shenaniganry, menaces to each other & those around, but also care for each other.

[simpjaes]

desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it. 

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry. 

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― DUB CON.  use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish,  reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering? 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something. 

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants. 

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness. 

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you  hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently. 

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too. 

 Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week. 

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs. 

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce. 

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?” 

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone. 

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more. 

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off. 

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace. 

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you? 

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?” 

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum. 

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end. 

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty. 

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut. 

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.” 

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father. 

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches. 

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

 You really seem to be enjoying this. 

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are. 

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you. 

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat. 

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to. 

No one would even know. 

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs. 

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect. 

“I knew it.” You giggle,  bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself. 

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.” 

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now.  At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down. 

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy. 

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes. 

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?” 

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards. 

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not. 

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you. 

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now. 

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now. 

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth. 

Oh. Oh. 

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of. 

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying. 

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.” 

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it. 

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now. 

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him. 

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor. 

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh. 

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes. 

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration. 

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

 You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it. 

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.” 

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it. 

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat. 

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well. 

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged. 

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath. 

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties. 

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly. 

You’ve gotten wetter. 

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.” 

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous. 

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better. 

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.  

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman. 

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it. 

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything? 

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat? 

No. 

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it. 

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand. 

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.” 

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press. 

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you. 

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk. 

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily. 

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before. 

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly. 

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't. 

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. 

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you. 

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk. 

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

 You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head. 

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.” 

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.” 

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it. 

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty. 

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.” 

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.” 

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit. 

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now. 

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

 He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself. 

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?” 

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.  

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you. 

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.

 But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more. 

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him. 

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts. 

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good. 

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him. 

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe. 

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence. 

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it. 

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it. 

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear. 

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor. 

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father. 

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before. 

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into. 

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand. 

“Do you feel bad already?�� You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?” 

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness. 

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.  

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed. 

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?” 

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for tossing a drink?

I (F22) don't drink alcohol: I don't like the taste of it, I was hangover once and I didn't like it at all and there is a large history of alcoholism on both sides of my family so I don't want to tempt fate.

My friends (F21, M22, F23, M23, F24 and M25) have all asked why I don't drink and I have been honest to all of them on my reasons and most of them have been pretty understanding NGL but there is this one friend (F24) who has made it her "duty" on getting me drunk. I didn't know her reasons why until last night.

So, last night we were at M25's apartment, we had decided to make a get together and talk about everything and nothing ans just have a nice time. We all brought our drinks, they had bought alcohol which was cool I don't mind then drinking they are all very responsible.

We were chatting the night away with some pizza and drinks and everything was nice actually. At this point, everyone was still sober and I decided to excuse myself to go pee. When I returned, I took a sip of my soda and inmediately felt the taste of alcohol. I stood up, gave the drink to F21 to hold for me and went to the bathroom again where I spit the soda I had in my mouth.

When I returned my other friends were puzzled. I immediately asked who had spiked my drink. At first, nobody believed my soda was spiked until I asked F21 to try it. She confirmed it had alcohol.

I repeated my question. And F24 confessed that it had been her because she wanted me to let loose a little bit. I gave her my most disgusted look, asked for F21 to return my drink which she did and I tossed the soda down the kitchen drain in front of everyone.

F24 got mad because I was acting like a complete asshole but when I asked her if I was an alcoholic in rehab would it still be fun to get me to spiral back in. She got silent. Her next argument was that why I wouldn't just trade my drink with someone else, I answered that nobody besides me had brought non alcoholic drinks so it would have been a losing situation for me.

Then I asked my other friends how could they not have noticed she spiked my soda, they said they just didn't notice they were chatting which fair we were in a very safe space. F24 was trying to get our other friends to take her side but nobody was backing her up everyone thought that it was a dick move of her to do that.

She then started acting up as if she was the victim here, gathered all of her things and stormed off.

We carried on with our night but for some reason I felt guilty about it. My friends say that it's completely not my fault and that I stood my ground in a very respectful way but I still feel bad for ruining the night. They reasured me it wasnt ruined and we kept our day.

I woke up today still feeling as if I was the one I did something wrong, I spoke with everyone except F24 and everyone is telling me not to overthink it and that the one that deserves an apology is me but I'm still thinking I could have approached the situation better.

So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[futuremrsreid]

Watching (S.R)

Summary: Spencer sleeps over at y/n's place and hears something he isn't supposed to.

Content Warnings: 18+, SMUT, downright filthy smut, voyeurism, dubious consent, humiliation, basically reader is wanking and spencer watches without her knowing

Authors Note: I am obsessed with writing morally wrong fics, but I guess this isn't for everyone so please read the CW before you read!!!

“Perverted”, “Scandalous”, “Creepy”- Those were the words that I would have used to describe myself at this moment.

The night had started innocently enough. Y/n and I were having one of our monthly movie nights. We ordered pizza, watched a new release that we had been waiting for for months, and had some wine. Though, as it usually does with y/n, some wine turned into 2 bottles of the dark liquid. I wouldn’t have called myself drunk, but she insisted that I should not drive in that state. It wasn’t the first time I had slept over at her apartment, but this time, I wished that I had just gotten into my fucking car.

While I got ready for bed in the bathroom, y/n was preparing the couch for me since I always refused to take the bed. She still put up a fight every time, as if she didn’t do the same when she slept over at my place, and then pettishly prepared the couch. It was cute, just like every single thing about her was.

I sighed as I spit the toothpaste in the sink, thinking about how much it sucks to be in love with your best friend. Friends to Lovers…yeah, I wish. They make it look so easy on screen, but in reality, it just sucks. I contemplated telling her countless times, but the risk of losing her is too much. Even if she felt the same, relationships can end, people can fall out of love, and then you are left with nothing. I’d rather stick to yearning for the rest of my life.

When I left the bathroom, she was already waiting for me and we exchanged goodnights as we passed each other. Sleeping on the couch really didn’t sound so bad when the alternative was potentially losing her.

That didn’t mean that I didn’t lie awake thinking about what it would be like to sleep in the same bed as her and wake up next to her though. Most times I barely got any sleep, like tonight.

I tried falling asleep for 30 minutes before I gave up and turned the TV back on. I was barely able to hear the show that was running, but I hoped that concentrating on it would make me tired. It would have worked, but just as I was about to drift off to sleep, there was the faintest sound coming from y/n’s bedroom. It was so quiet that I wondered if I had just imagined it, but as I looked at the door, I saw that she didn’t close it properly, presumably by accident.

I closed my eyes again because people make noises in their sleep all the time, especially her, but a few seconds later, there was another noise. It sounded like a whimper, and this time I was sure that I had actually heard it. I contemplated what to do. Y/n had nightmares all the time, as should be expected in our line of work, but sometimes it was worse waking her up than just letting her sleep through it. Though thinking about the time when she scratched herself so hard that she woke up with blood under her fingernails, I got up anyway.

That was the first mistake I made that night.

I swear my thoughts were innocent when I went to push open the door, I just wanted to prevent her from hurting herself, so I was absolutely not prepared for the sight in front of me when the door fell open enough for me to look inside.

Y/n was lying on top of the bed, one hand in her panties and the other clutching the sheets. I froze. I know I should have just quietly closed the door and gone back to bed, but I didn’t.

That was the second mistake I made that night.

I kept my eyes on her, carefully memorizing everything I saw before me, storing it away in my endless memory. The way she arched her back while drawing slow circles over her clit, the way her shirt rose up because of that, and how the exposed skin of her legs and stomach looked in the faint moonlight that was streaming through her window.

The thing that got to me most though, was the look on her face. Her mouth was slightly agape, brows furrowed and her eyes clenched shut. It was absolutely mesmerizing, she was absolutely mesmerizing, and every detail of it was burned into my brain.

I knew how wrong it was, watching her like this in such a vulnerable moment, but I couldn’t look away. I was convinced the gods themselves were punishing me by putting such a sight in front of me and expecting me to walk away from it. It was utterly fucked up.

Another whimper left her, louder this time and she bit her lip, trying to keep herself quiet. God, she was trying not to wake me up but here I was, standing at her door and watching her.

Her underwear was pink, and even though it was almost dark in her room, I could still see the wet spot on it. I felt like I didn’t have any control over my body as my hand made its way to the bulge that was growing in my pajama pants, the pants she got me for my birthday. I remembered the look on her face as I unwrapped the fish print fabric, eyes full of excitement and the innocence that was always on her face. Well, most of the time anyway, because right now, there was no innocence in sight.

I was a sick man.

Her hand picked up the pace and I could hear the wet sounds it made. She sighed and threw her head back the same moment that my own hand found its way into my pants, thumb brushing over the precum-covered tip of my cock. I swallowed the groan that threatened to leave my throat when her other hand wandered to her breast, squeezing it, while I was stroking myself as fast as I could without making any sound.

It was then that I noticed the thing that would forever exile me from heaven and condemn me to a life in hell because while she lay there pleasuring herself, she was wearing my shirt, the shirt I had worn yesterday night in the cheap hotel room we were sharing. I had searched the whole room for it this morning, she helped me look.

I had to bite my lip to prevent a moan from escaping. Not only did she steal my shirt, but she also lied to me and was now wearing it while she fucked herself. The thought of my sweet and innocent best friend doing such a filthy thing almost pushed me over the edge, but like the sick masochistic pervert that I was, I gripped the base of my cock to keep me from cumming so soon. I wanted to watch her fall apart first, knowing if my orgasm finished washing over me first I would feel so guilty and sick I’d probably run to the bathroom to throw up and miss the best part.

The faster her hand moved and the closer she got, the more her sounds increased in volume. It’s fascinating how being aroused shifts your perception of the world around you because I would bet that she didn’t realize how loud she was getting. It didn’t matter anyways because the person she tried to keep quiet for was standing in the dark watching her.

When a whine escaped her, and her thighs started trembling, I knew she was close, so I started to increase my pace. I wanted to come with her, watch her fall apart and use it to reach my own climax.

My hand moved frantically around my cock and when her face scrunched up in pleasure and her thighs closed around her hand, I imagined how they would feel clenching around me. It was that thought that finally pushed me over the edge and made me spill my cum into my underwear. I bit down on my tongue hard and continued stroking myself while coming down, the same way she did.

When her hand stilled and she huffed out a breath, I knew I had to move fast. As quietly as I could I closed the door the same way it was before I had entered earlier and rushed to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up as best as I could and decided that I preferred to sleep in cum covered underwear instead of no underwear at all.

I caught my breath and tried not to think about what I had just done, but when I opened the door to go back to bed, y/n stood in front of me.

“Hi”, she almost squeaked when she saw me. Looking at her face, warm and splotchy from her orgasm, I felt myself getting hard again. I cleared my throat.

“Hi yourself”, I replied, acting like the last 10 minutes didn’t actually happen.

“You’re still awake”, she said and I saw realization wash over her face. To go to the bathroom, you had to walk by her room, and she must have noticed that her door wasn’t closed when she got up. She stood in front of me frozen and I hate to admit how much the sight turned me on. She thought I heard her. God if she knew.

I tried to be a good person, to be a gentleman, and let it go. Let her go to the bathroom to clean herself up and never talk about it again, but I just couldn’t.

“Yeah, I, uh, I couldn’t sleep”, I started and tilted my head to fake a concerned look,” By the way, are you okay? I heard some noise coming from your room. Did you have a nightmare again?” I was a sick perverted man, but the horror that washed over her face at my words almost made me take her right there against the wall.

“Uh yes. Yes, I did, but I’m fine! I’m awake, the nightmare is over. I really need to pee though so… goodnight Spence. Sleep well.” And with that, she started to move around me. I could have just let her go but it was too easy, the opportunity too great not to take it.

“Hey, is that my shirt? I was looking for it all morning.” She almost tripped when the words left my mouth.

“Oh, this was the shirt you lost? I thought it was mine, my bad. You’ll uh, get it back washed and folded just the way you like it. Goodnight!”, y/n rushed out and quickly closed the bathroom door and locked herself inside it.

It was quiet for a moment and then I could hear the faintest “fuck” from behind the door.

[rqgnarok]

music to my eyes - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 4,266

warnings: spoilers for the season 3 finale of ted lasso, jamie being a lil self deprecating. reader uses female pronouns.

summary: jamie has a crush on the band’s bassist. 

author’s note at the end!

Jamie’s so, so late.

Roy’s gonna have his balls. It’s the first training for the Queen’s Cup final against Tottenham– their first one without Ted, a little something before the freaking Champion’s League starts next year– and Jamie’s having the worst morning of his life.

He woke up late for his 4 am training that ran long, traffic was absolute shit and now he’s sprinting– not running, cause he’s not allowed to after he and Colin almost ran over the Prince of Denmark while racing each other to the locker room, a story for another day– down the hallway with Roy Kent’s fury just waiting to find its rightful owner. 

He didn’t even have time to comb his hair today. It still looks amazing, but it’s the routine that matters. For his mental health or whatever. 

Maybe that’s why he feels so jittery and doesn’t look where he’s going as he makes his way to the locker room. Jamie’s got his bag clutched to his chest and his headphones hanging around his neck, his jacket halfway on before he gave up and left it trailing down his side like a sad blanket. 

He’s cursing whatever Gods control alarm clocks and traffic and hairbrushes when he knocks onto someone. It’s so forceful it sends them both to the ground with a grunt and a little ah! of surprise. Jamie tries not to grow annoyed and fails. He considers laying on the ground and becoming one with the carpet so he doesn’t face Roy’s justified punishment and sighs out his nose, pushing himself to a sitting position.

“–so sorry,” and it’s a woman, Jamie just knocked out a woman in his rush to work. What’s next? Is he gonna hit a cat with his car? Maybe spit on a kid’s face? She keeps babbling apologies, unaware of Jamie’s foul mood. “–supposed to be at her office but there’s just– there are so many hallways–”

“‘s alright,” he cuts her off harsher than he means to, guilt stabbing at him when she looks at him with wide, remorseful eyes. Jamie sighs, dusting off his clothes and standing, offering her a hand. “Me fault for bein’ in a rush. Should’ve seen where I was going.”

“Oh, god, you actually know where you’re going,” she says with a grimace, accepting his hand. She’s on her feet and standing too close to Jamie for a second that feels like a lifetime– almost nose-to-nose with Richmond’s greatest. Her laugh is stuttery and nervous when she steps back, barely meeting Jamie’s eye.

She’s cute. Jamie’s not planning to do anything about it, especially not with his fine for being late slowly becoming one for missing training but she is. Cute. His mouth lifts in a half smile at the thought, charmed. 

“I was looking for Rebecca Welton’s office but I only got myself lost,” she says sheepishly, putting her hair behind her ear every couple of seconds since it keeps stubbornly falling out of place. Jamie’s fingers twitch a little but no. No, absolutely not, he’s not doing this to himself, no sir. “Is there any way you can give me directions without having to go with me? I don’t want you to be late for– shit. Practice, huh?”

Jamie thinks she’s the smartest woman that’s ever walked the face of the Earth until he remembers where they are. At Richmond’s training facilities. She’s looking at a disheveled man in a sports outfit. The story kind of tells itself.

“I– yeah,” Jamie stutters a little, clearing his throat to disguise it. “There’s, um, it ain’t a problem. I can take you there if you want.”

Her entire posture screams relief as soon as he offers, and it’s enough for Jamie to make up his mind even if she hasn’t said yes yet. “Would you? They said in the group chat not to be late and, like, they weren’t specific about it but you just know when a message’s for you, you know. And here I am, late–”

A beat.

“–and rambling,” she smiles at him again, the sight tugging at Jamie’s chest as he stands there like an idiot, his brain rebooting whenever she does it. “Yes, please. I’d really appreciate it.”

And so Jamie asks a kitman to take his stuff to the locker room while he walks her up to Rebecca’s office. His hand hovers but doesn’t quite touch the small of her back while he blabbers his way through small talk. Nice weather, today, innit, traffic was absolute hell though. Oh, you’re not from around here, that’s nice, do you plan on going sightseeing?

He delivers her to Rebecca’s floor to a thankful, ecstatic Higgins, who welcomes her with a hearty shake of the hand and promises that she hasn’t missed anything important. She’s barely able to spare him a smile and a quick thanks before the door’s closed behind them and Jamie’s standing there on his own, smiling at nothing.

He’s still wearing a dopey grin when he finally finds himself on the field, Roy yelling at him to run laps until sundown for being late. His legs are killing him, he’s £200 poorer, and he didn’t even get the woman’s name; but nothing can drag him down from his high and make him forget how she’d squeezed his arm in gratitude, touch warm and calloused against his skin. 

The next day Rebecca’s there before practice starts, looking tall and pleased as she claps her hands and shares the big news: since the final of the Queen’s Cup is being held right here at Nelson Road, she managed to get a band to play during the halftime show. They’ll be here the entire next two weeks for rehearsals and staging, so everyone must be on their best behavior if they don’t want their name in the summer transfer market.

Jamie doesn’t connect the dots until he sees her again, this time at a local bar big enough to house less than two thousand people. Keeley hears from Roy who hears from Beard, who heard from Higgins that Rebecca said the secret band was gonna hang around the city for a couple of other smaller, quick gigs. 

Jamie manages to excuse himself from video games at Colin’s with the guys and offers himself to Keeley as a buffer between her and Roy at a bar tonight. Though, in Jamie’s very humble and very right opinion, they’re already on their way to getting back together for good.

The band’s gathered a nice crowd, the lighting low and the thrum of the music hammering on Jamie’s teeth. He’s nursing the beer Roy bought him, the man charmed enough by Keeley’s presence that he let Jamie bend his rigorous diet regime. Just for the night. 

It takes three songs for the bassist to speak up, a makeshift spotlight landing on her, sweaty and delighted at being onstage. Jamie’s blood rushes to his face and his vision blacks out for a second. 

It’s her. No longer is she lost and out of her element, shyly asking a stranger for help. Both of her feet are steady on the ground, the strap of her bass snug around her neck. Her fingers are toying with the strings even when no song’s playing, an air of rightful confidence washing over the room as it takes her in. Jamie isn’t the only one suddenly breathless.

She grins against the microphone, coy. “Thank you so much for having us, Jaded Joker. We’re Karma Police, and we hope you have as much fun hearin’ us as we do playing for you.”

They fall into another song with that quick introduction and Jamie can’t take his eyes off her, barely hearing the song as the world around him slows down. Her clothes and jewelry sway with her to the rhythm of the music, the lights shifting seamlessly into different colors making her look ethereal. 

Keeley clocks it in immediately.

“She’s good, huh?” she nods at the stage where Jamie’s stranger is moving to the beat of the bass like no one’s watching, shamelessly enjoying herself and making funny faces at her bandmates. “Fuckin’ smoking, too.”

Jamie only hums in a very Roy Kent-like way, knowing there’s no fooling Keeley fucking Jones. The last thing he needs is to give her details and have her dip a toe into Jamie’s nonexistent love life.

Of course, he doesn’t take into consideration that Roy’s a brazen gossip.

“So,” Sam elongates the word as he’s spotting Jamie on the press the next day, happy watching him grunt at the effort. “How was the band last night?”

Jamie almost drops the damned thing on his chest.

“Roy said you enjoyed it,” he continues giddily like he didn’t almost commit accidental manslaughter by catching Jamie off guard. “Especially the bassist. What was her name?”

Sam fakes confusion for less than a minute before Jamie gives, mumbling it under his breath. He’d been weak and googled Karma Police in the privacy of his car before going home, swiping through the images that popped up until he recognized her face. 

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), the article he clicked on informed him. Jamie had repeated the name under his breath just to see what it felt like on his tongue for an embarrassing amount of time. 

Thanks to Karma Police’s bassist and lyricist (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the band’s sophomore album New Perspective has found a home in people’s hearts and high on the global charts.

Keeley wasn’t kidding. She’s good. 

“Oh,” Sam realizes, some of his amusement softening into genuine interest when he watches Jamie’s face do whatever the fuck it's doing. “Oh, you like like her.”

Jamie immediately flushes under Sam’s gaze, making sure the weight is safe in its place before physically fleeing the conversation. Sam doesn’t mention it to anyone, which Jamie appreciates so badly he could cry a little, but he does find his eyes across the locker room later when Rebecca comes in, four people in tow.

“Everybody, these are the wonderful musicians I spoke to you about the other day,” she says it in a way that screams I’m a pleasant human being and embarrass me and I will end your career right where you stand all at once. “We’re on a little tour of the installations and I thought we’d all come to say hi to wrap it up.”

The boys are charming and welcome them with ease. They’re not one of the most liked teams in England despite their bad runs for nothing, but Jamie’s frozen the second he catches sight of her. She’s a step behind one of her bandmates, shaking hands and smiling politely at conversations while staying slightly in the background, the stage persona from the previous night gone like taking off a jacket. 

Jamie takes pride in the way their eyes meet and her tight expression loosens, her smile blossoming into something more genuine, less unsure.

“Hey, stranger,” she says a little awkwardly after having gathered the courage Jamie couldn’t to cross the room and say hi. It feels like they’re alone in a room full of people, and for a second Jamie thinks he sees Sam stealing a few looks, making sure he keeps the others away and distracted for a little privacy. “Did you make it to training the other day?”

“What?” Jamie blanks like an idiot, then shakes his head when he remembers how they met; both of them, late for their respective responsibilities. “Oh! Oh, yeah. I– yeah. I had to run for me life to make up for it, but I made it.”

“Good,” she smiles, shifting in her place. “I, um. I’m glad we get to play for you guys. What you’ve done this past season, getting back to the top, has been unbelievable.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he replies, awestruck, and backtracks when she looks a little apprehensive. She’s doing the hair thing again, combing it back while it stubbornly escapes its place every couple of seconds. A nervous tic, maybe. “I mean– some friends and I, we saw you last night at the Jaded Joker. If anything, it’s an honor we get you guys to play for us.”

“Oh!” she seems pleased, ducking her head at the compliment. Her shoulders loosen again, and Jamie tries not to feel like he just scored a goal against Man City. “Oh, you should’ve said hi! Did you enjoy yourselves?”

“I did,” he says, too soft, and it feels like an admission of something when her eyes search his face, for a moment landing on his mouth before putting herself back together. “Up there, it’s like– it’s like you forget everyone else. You’re made for the stage.”

If anything, (Y/N)’s delight only strengthens, tugging at the neckline of her shirt. Jamie finds himself trying to follow the trail of new skin and flushes as well when he catches himself just in time. 

“Thank you,” she matches his tone. “You’d think it’d be nervewracking but it’s… silence. In my head. Does that make sense? I feel like it doesn’t.”

“It does,” Jamie agrees, breathless. It’s exactly how he feels when he gets the ball on his feet, every anxiety and worry and part of him he doesn’t like quieting the minute he steps on a pitch. “I get the same when I play. Peace in the chaos, I guess”

(Y/N) looks at him like she’s discovering the world’s eight wonder. 

“Kids!” her bandmate breaks the moment by coming over, arm draped around (Y/N)’s shoulder. (Y/N) blinks, looking a little shell-shocked. “Sorry to interrupt this party, but rehearsal awaits.”

Disappointment claws at Jamie’s belly, but before he can let it fester the conversation continues, bubbly and loud. “Alas! We’ll be done around 5. You’re welcome to visit then. We’re going to the third floor, I think.”

(Y/N)’s only amused at her friend’s antics, even if Jamie’s back to having a knot in his throat out of nervousness alone. Jesus, what’s wrong with him? It’s like he’s eight again and crushing on the cute boy that lived in the apartment in front of the Tartt’s. 

“See you then?” (Y/N) says, hopeful, and Jamie thinks it’s only fair he’s brave as well and nods as resolutely as he can. 

“I’ll be there.”

He ends up having to ask Higgins for directions, after promising he’s not gonna stir up any trouble at least four times. It takes Roy passing by and giving a few reassuring grunts, guaranteeing Jamie’s best behavior before Higgins gives him the location. When Jamie goes to thank him, Roy only points at him menacingly, though lacking his usual frown, and says don’t fuck this up. 

Rehearsals are just wrapping up when Jamie gets there, instruments being packed and people saying goodbye to each other when he makes his way into the room. He immediately finds (Y/N) sitting on the piano playing a complicated melody.

She lights up when she sees him, the music seizing. “You made it!”

Jamie stops her from standing up, instead sitting next to her after she scoots over to give him room. “That was nice. A song of yours?”

(Y/N) shrugs. “Hopefully soon. You never know, when you’re writing. You start working on a song and it ends up being a completely different thing from when you started.”

“Sounds messy,” Jamie says, a little consternated at the thought. Fortunately, (Y/N) laughs.

“It is. Do you play?”

“Fuck no,” he says quickly, then tries to explain himself as she splutters in amused surprise. “I mean, I don’t think I can. It seems pretty complicated. I’ve always been better with me feet.”

He reaches for the keys and begins playing some nonsense, loud and offkey, knowing it’ll make her laugh again.

“No, you gotta–” she cackles, placing her hands on top of his and quieting the dissonant echo of the keys. Jamie feels the tug at his lips, insistent, automatic, the same rush of delight that courses over him whenever he’s in her presence. “Gentle. Be gentle about it, jeez.”

She lines up their hands so her fingers move his and begins playing a quiet, fun melody. Jamie’s doing shit other than staring at her face, slightly twisted in concentration as she mumbles the notes under her breath. G, G, G, F, G, B, G, G…

“I know this one,” Jamie mumbles in recognition. (Y/N) turns her head to smile at him, pleased. “‘s from Nottin Hill, innit?”

“And a million other movies,” she murmurs back, unable to break the spell that’s fallen over the room. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a romantic.”

“‘s my favorite film,” he concedes, finding it incredibly easy to be honest when they’re sitting side by side like this, alone, their sides warm against each other. He loves his teammates, but (Y/N) didn’t know him when he was awful and arrogant, too cocky. There’s nothing she holds against him, no standard he needs to meet for her to be happy in his company. “Cried me eyes out at the end. Though I’ll deny it if you ever ask in front of anyone.”

(Y/N) laughs. “I promise I won’t. It’s a good movie. Doesn’t beat While You Were Sleeping, though.”

Jamie’s expression remains blank. (Y/N)’s face falls into disbelief, her hands tightening against his. “You’ve never watched While You Were Sleeping.”

He’s heard of it, but it’s hilarious to watch her forget herself, any sign of nervousness or polite shyness finally out the window. Jamie likes it– likes her, wants her to be comfortable with him and stop holding herself so tightly whenever she’s off the stage. 

“You poor, sheltered boy,” she exhales, aghast. “Holy fuck, I can’t believe I’m about to introduce you to the best romantic comedy ever made.”

Jamie goes to take the opening but stops himself at the last second. He knows this process; the flirting, the leaning in for just a moment so she smells his cologne then pulling away, leaving her wanting more. The asking for a date, a fancy dinner, then taking her home. Sneaking out in the middle of the night, dodging calls until she stops trying to reach him. 

He’s been doing it for years. He wants to desperately break the cycle and he wants to do it with her, but does he have it in him? Jamie’s been working on himself harder than he’s worked for anything else in his life, but what if he’s one slip away from becoming his old self? From turning out like his dad?

Sure, the old man’s changed, or– well. He’s trying to. But whether Jamie likes it or not he sees a little too much of him in himself sometimes, and he can’t do that to her. He’s known her for less than a week and he knows she deserves better. Everyone does. 

Roy told him not to fuck it up. Maybe this is what he meant. 

His expression stutters, shatters, and reestablishes itself in a matter of a moment, a blink of an eye. Jamie knocks his shoulder into hers gently, leaning back into place after a second. He teases: “And who made you the expert, eh?”

Rather than letting it drop, (Y/N) takes the bait just like Jamie knew she would. They stay there until a security guard comes to kick them out for the night, and they talk about everything and nothing. Movies, songs, bands they like, and foods they don’t. Jamie’s favorite players when he was a kid, his hero-like worship for Roy Kent, and how he’s made him a better player, a better man.

(Y/N) shares with him the first time she held a guitar in her hands, the albums she listened to when she was a kid that changed her as a person, realizing she could create magic through words and music. Her favorite cities to tour, how long she’s known her bandmates, how she’d die and kill for them if necessary.

By the time he’s walking into the pitch at Nelson Road two weeks later, the roar of the crowd around him swallowing every other sound, Jamie’s spent every free moment of his time with (Y/N) (Y/L/N). It was unavoidable, helpless as he is in his attraction to her, but Jamie doesn’t know what to do without, as Roy so carefully put it, fucking it up.

It hadn’t helped when (Y/N) snuck into the locker room to wish him luck, showing him the Richmond bracelet she was gonna wear onstage with a roll of the eyes. “Our stylist wouldn’t let me wear the jersey, but don’t you doubt for a second that I’m rooting for you, Tartt.”

Jesus Christ. Jamie had felt his cheeks warm up and dared to thank her with a loud, exaggerated kiss on the forehead that left them both grinning like idiots and Roy staring at them knowingly.

Before Jamie followed his teammates into the field, Roy had pulled him aside with a hand on his shoulder. “Tartt–”

“I know, I know,” he answered a little too self-deprecatingly. “Don’t fuck it up.”

But Roy only raised his eyebrows, realization dawning on his features. “You think I say that because I think you will?”

Jamie mumbled some not-words under his breath and Roy cursed. “Prick. I say it because you deserve good things, dickhead. And you should let them come to you when they do.”

Good things, Jamie thinks after one of his passes gives Dani the first goal of the night. The younger man jumps into his arms while hugging him tight and laughing into his ear, their teammates joining their embrace less than a second later. 

He looks towards the general area of the VIP seats where he knows (Y/N) and the rest of the band are cheering them on. He pictures her screaming at the top of her lungs, arms in the air, and being happy for him like she’s known him for all his life.

She might be the best thing. Whether he deserves her or not, Jamie wants her. Wants to be with her, watch romantic comedies until they both cry and spend his free afternoons watching her play the piano while he plays FIFA in the living room. He wants songs written about him that have him blushing whenever he hears them in public and for her to come to his games and be able to dedicate every goal to her he ever scores.

Good things. Yeah, Jamie can get down on that.

“You fucking asshole!” she jumps into his arms the second she finds him on the pitch after the game, a medal hanging from his neck and sweat sticking to his skin. (Y/N) doesn’t seem to care as she lets him lift her in the air, holding onto each other tight. “You did it! You fucking did it!”

“I missed your show,” he replies instead, only a little bummed. He’s seen her play live before but there was an itch under his skin the entire half-time, knowing how close she was and being unable to get to her. Jamie grins. “And stole it, too.”

“There he is,” she teases gleefully. “For a second there I thought you were gonna be humble about this.”

“I don’t even know what that word means,” he says cockily.

“And how’s Mr. Man of the Match gonna celebrate, huh?” she wonders, hitting him lightly on the chest now that he’s put her back on the ground. “A fancy club? Getting shitfaced with the boys? A date with your left hand?”

Jamie puts his hand on hers at the last second, stopping her from pulling away. She sways into him, all traces of joking vanishing from her expression. He forces himself to stay on her face, the urge to look away defeated by how she’s looking at him. In wonder, open, hopeful.

She deserves good things, too. Jamie is determined to be the one to give them to her. 

“I was thinking dinner?” he asks, fidgeting a little on his feet. “Maybe a movie? Thought I could see what While You Were Sleeping’s all about.”

(Y/N)’s mouth is fighting against a smile, somewhat hesitant still. Jamie doesn’t blame her, he’s been beating around this bush the entire time they’ve known each other.

“You want any company?” she wonders.

“Well, what kind of date would it be if it was just me?” he forces his features into faux confusion, watching her finally lose the battle and beam like a kid on Christmas. Her fingers twitch where he’s holding onto her hand.

“Not a great one,” she concedes, looking like all of Jamie’s dreams. “How do you feel about Mexican?”

Awful. Jamie feels awful about Mexican. He’s a white sexy boy in all the ways that matter and his taste buds punish him for eating spicy food no matter how much he likes it. But he can compromise. He’s starting to realize there’s very little he wouldn’t do for (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

“I feel fantastic about anything you like,” he answers truthfully. “I’m sure me tongue will forgive me eventually.”

(Y/N) laughs, fingers in Jamie’s hold shifting so she can hold his hand. “I think there’s a good lyric somewhere in there.”

“You plannin’ on writing me a song?”

She smirks. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t yet.”

Jamie squeezes her hand, leaning in to kiss her cheek. 

“Can’t wait to hear it, love.”

___

there’s an ache in my bones to make a series out of this fic omg

i can’t believe the show’s over (is it tho????) so here’s some jamie fluff to heal our tender, mourning hearts. as always you’re welcome to tell me what you think and chat jamie and ted lasso as much as you’d like! thank u for reading AND for all the love on my last jamie piece that you can read here!

<3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

[wordsvomit101]

As usual credit to Hiki (@shyanimeboi) for this god sent gift they grace me. The amount of lore drops got me feral, it feels like Christmas, it feels like summer coming.

I won't post all of it since it is best that you go support the original poster at here: Hikifans on X: "Here is part 3 of the story. Sorry it was abit of a long wait, was stuck grinding for satans beginner nightmere candy https://t.co/IStdo8f7Xs #whatinhellisbad" / X (twitter.com)

Anyway here is the ramble

True but I don't lust as much as you girl (no problem with anyone that related to MC, she's just not for me). If I have that much sexual drive in me, for more than 70 guys at that??? I need to check myself out for medical attention, or else I gonna feel dread every time the lust comes (it is surprisingly a thing that I saw people talk about on TikTok)

Ppyong is a deadly combo man, he is cocky but also a masochist. His appearance is so my type too

MC being a freak, as usual, you go sis ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

THE WAY I CHOKE ON MY OWN SPIT- Like wtf do you mean?!!!! Why are you doing this to my fujoshi kokoro??!!! I know you want to do it but how do you want to do it?!! Shibari? Choking? WHat Ishb Ittzdhbjsfbnv?!- *Error*

NAURRRRR ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽ MC DON'T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME!!!!

ASK HIM!! ASK HIM TO SPILL IT ALL OUT!! I NEED TO KNOW!! TELL HIM TO SPELL IT OUT-

*Error*

So, uh, they show a close-up shot of Juno's chest and he asks if Minhyeok is hard like his and MC is a bad liar, said "probably" and Juno calls her out on it.

And MC actually admitted and said that Minhyeok's chest is actually "wide like this"???

You did??? But then again why am I surprised that she did, they had to be kissing at some point if they stuck together for more than a decade with that amount of tension between them

Ok so Minhyeok played soccer in high school, MC and he are in different classes and they were going to give him back something they lent. But come across Minhyeok changing in the classroom, pretty standard

Yup, he knows, he definitely knows and he is tempting her. Also, apparently, Minhyeok's chest is toned, but flatter than Juno's, his abs also feel different than Juno's...

If you can't tell I'm furiously taking notes right now, someone on the dev team is looking out for my shipper's heart and I wish that person woke up on the right side of the bed every day and had their taxes filled on time, etc.

Woah that has to be some intense session you got there, I awake until 3am before and I still have energy fueling me.

Relatable, highly so, I got deadlines every day during the semester. You think it's fine when you get used to it after 3-4 weeks but then it hits you with a week's worth of exams that you need to finish within that time while maintaining other stuff outside your major, and then combine it with other stuff outside uni (҂ ꒦ິヮ꒦ິ)

Too high of a standard girl, if I were him, I would already be too high on coffee and delirium to even see what I'm typing on the computer.

I'm surprised he's only tired, I expected some breakdown but then again, it's Minhyeok. The guy built different

Wait that's so cute!!! Awww (∗˃̶ ᵕ ˂̶∗)

Minhyeok sure is deep in his sleep, cause the slightest noise or outside touch would wake me tf up, I will go straight back to sleep later if it is nothing but if this happens it would me start kicking before I could even think

Built like a campus crush and act like a campus crush. If he has time to be good at sports then he most likely be in one of the SKY universities in Korea. If he also doesn't go to Hagwon then that would be even more crazy

Ok rude, you not even gonna clean the wet chair up??? Even if you're my best friend, I would still drag you back to clean the mess yourself cause ain't no way I'm touching the juice that came out of your bussy

THE TENSION IS REAL BOISSS

I know what you are MC and don't worry I won't judge, just tell me how big the file is compare to others

Ok, that is it, love part 3, they feed me a good amount of lores, and thank you again to the heaven-sent Hiki (@shyanimeboi), please watch the full video on their channel. I couldn't do this without them sharing this with all of us for free at that 🛐🛐🛐

Thank you for reading through my fangirling and good days to everyone!

[faghubby]

punished

Vicky, my wife of ten years and mother of my two children. opened the door to see me bent over the dining room table as a large black man drove his long thick cock in my ass.

"What is going on here!" She yelled. I tried to get up. But Marcus just pushed me back down into the table and pounded away on my little faggot ass.

"Be done with the cunt in a minute" he told Vicky. Vicky was stunned just stood there watching.

"Vic" I said only to be smacked hand across the ass

"Shut the fuck up bitch" Marcus told me. I didn't dare say another word. Marcus stiffened and grunted as he shoved the full length of his cock in my ass. Pumping his load deep. He pulled out and pulled up his pants.

"All yours" he told Vicky as he let himself out. I stood up my legs tied to the table legs. I was wearing a red bra and stockings. Along with three inch heels. I tried to bend to untie my legs but fell on the floor.

"What the fuck?!" Vicky screamed. "You fucking gay bitch" she looked around evennmore confused by the scene. There was a paddle and two leather belts, along with a bottle of lube and bandage gear. That with me naked on the floor, trying to untie my legs as I babbled about it being a one time thing.

"Shut up" she said disgusted half laughing. She kicked my hand lightly. "Stop that and get up" she ordered me. I tried to stand finally pulling myself up.

"You let men fuck you? spank you?" She held a belt. "Not even sure" she started holding a big 2 inch diameter butt plug. It was still covered in lube. She pushed me down back over the table. She pushed the toy against my ass that was now leaking Marcus cum. My ass sucked it right in.

"Wow" she commented. As I ler out a little wimper. She then walked around the table.

"Don't you dare move" she warned me.

"Vicky I can" I started

"Shut up" she screamed she grabbed a set of leather cuffs and hooked my wrist to one of the legs. Then used another set to hook the other. I could lift myself some but not much. She found the matching panties to the bra I was wearing.

"Open up" she told me and shoved them in my mouth. I don't even think she realized how much she was turning me on. She turned off the light and left. I heard the door close and the car leave. Was she leaving me here for good. Hoping someone else found me. I struggled to get free. But it was a very sturdy table. I was stuck. I cried myself to sleep. What had I done.

It was hours before I head the garage door opening. It woke me up in the silence. Vicky came in obviously had been drinking. I had spit the panties out of my mouth hours ago.

"Still waiting for me cunt" she laughed. I so needed to pee.

"Please Vicky I need to pee" I pleaded. She laughed and looked down at my cock.

"What is this?" She asked grabbing the metal cage and yanking. I screamed.

"Marcus doesn't like to see me get an erection" I wimpered. "So this stops you from getting hard!" She laughed. She let it smack into the table making me groan again. I was about to burst.

"Where the key?" She asked.

"On my dresser" she unhooked one hand then left. I quickly undid my other hand but Marcus nots on the robe on my legs was tight. I struggled getting only one unlocked before I actually peed on the floor.

"You are disgusting" Vicky told me as she returned. "I want this all cleaned up now" she screamed then returned to the bedroom. It was late but I did as she had said and cleaned everything. Scrubbing the floor with disinfectant. I took a shower and removed the plug my ass gapped open after wearing the plug for hours. Only then did I try and go into the bedroom it was locked. I didn't even knock just went and crashed in the guest room. I slept naked not having any clothes but the bra and panties.

I was up before Vicky, actually she didn't emerge from our bedroom till noon. She loomed horribly hung over. I had done some laundry so at least was able to get dressed.

"Can I get you something" I asked. She glared at me then said. There is a mess in the bedroom" I got up and found she had thrown up in the trash can. Looks like most missed. She had also got it on the bed. I cleaned up the floor, took the trash can outside. Then stripped the bed. I had scrubbed the floor and remade the bed by the time. Vicky came back in, only a towel wrapped around her. She had a bruise on her shoulder.

"Are you okay did you fall?" I asked. She glanced at her shoulder. Then smiled.

"No he just liked to bite" she told me getting into bed naked. I noticed another mark on her thigh.

"Bite?" I asked

"Yes, big guy was kinda forceful. A biter, I guess everyone has a kink don't they?" She said glaring at me. I just let her go back to sleep. When I went to check on her a few hours later the door was locked again. I desperately wanted to ask her for the key to my chastity cage but didn't think it was the time.

I let her be, she had cheated on me I guess I deserved that. But what did this mean for us. She emerged from the room again about dinner time. I had made pasta. She devoured a bowl. And then went back to bed with two bottles of water. I heard her lock the door. She didn't emerge until the next morning and then rushed out the door for work with barely a word. No option I wore the chastity cage to work.

When I got home Vicky was home, she normally was home before me so this was normal. I found a garage bag by the door and without thought I threw it away. I found Vicky in the bathroom folding laundry.

"Vicky can I have the key to the chastity cage" I asked just wanting it off I had never worn it this long.

"Why? You don't need it anymore" Vicky said confused.

"What?" I stuttered

"Well your lover obviously doesn't use it for anything, and I certainly an not going to be using it again. So why?" Vicky asked again looking at me. "I may have use of that tounge from time to time but that's it" Vicky added.

"Vick!" I wimpered.

"What you can't expect me to see you as a man after the other night can you?" She asked. "Come here" she patted the bed.

I sat next to her.

"I got rid of all your boy undies too, I mean you like wearing girlie things right?" She said her hand cupping my face.

"I slept with Greg" she confessed. Greg was my best friend he would never.

"Greg wouldn't" I started.

"When I showed him the pics of you getting fucked by your boyfriend he understood why I needed a man. I didn't know he liked to bite though" Vicky explained. "Here put these away" she handed me a pile of bras and panties. I headed towards her dresser.

"Silly those are yours" Vicky told me. I looked down and realized she was serious and placed them in my empty underwear drawer.

"I would like to meet your lover, what is his name?" Vicky continued

"Marcus" I said softly

"He has a big cock, is he gay. I mean does he fuck woman as well?' Vicky asked.

"I don't think so" I told her. In kind of a trance. Was this all happening?

she took my phone and called Marcus.

"Hello whore" he answered the phone with.

"This is the whore's wife Vicky "she told him.

"You want me to stop fucking the slut?" He asked with a chuckle.

"No, not at all. He seemed to enjoy it "she told him. "I think he like it if you fucked him even more" I listened as the two of them started to make decisions and a schedule of my life. I tried twice to interrupt but was silenced before I could speak.

Vicky gave up any marital rights, giving them over to Marcus. She promised to make me more femine for him as well. I found myself meeting Marcus two to three times a week. Vicky had hired a contractor to build a bedroom and bathroom in the basement. It even had its own entrance. As soon as it was done I moved into it. She had designed the room with hidden anchor points, the room was also done in pink and light blue colors. And the closet full of woman's clothes in my size. Marcus could come and go privately. Vicky didn't hide that I was a sissy fag. And openly slept with other men.

Marcus even started taking me put as his little sissy bitch in public. Even making me service some of his friends. We have been married for 15 more years. Where I don't think I have seen Vicky naked in all that time. We have both gone thru several lovers.

[fuzybby]

Punishment

Gale x F!Reader

Synopsis: You haven't been doing the best in your classes, and Mr. Dekarios needs a better way to punish you.

CW: spanking, fingering(?), no penetrative sex, Gale is a Professor, student and teacher relationship! (not healthy in real life but this is fiction)

1.4k words, enjoy!

The sun peaking through the window is what woke me up from slumber. The bright rays felt warm against my face, and I instinctively tried to swat them away.

Fuck.

Another day of class. Not that the class is horrible, it's actually quite thrilling learning of the adventures from my Professor, the problem is how hot my Professor is.

Professor Dekarios. The man that he is. He keeps his hair in a half bun everyday. His beard is scruffy and I wonder what it would feel like against my neck, my chest, in between my thighs..

I can feel the wetness between my legs already. Another day where I go to class soaking wet for my teacher. The teacher.

If my friends had known I had the hots for him, they'd never let me live it down. Or, they'd agree to also wanting to fuck him, but I doubt that's the case. Many people don't actually enjoy Professor Dekarios's class, they say he rambles too much. The study of Arcana can be difficult at times, especially when the teacher is watching your every move with his sultry brown eyes..

Stop thinking!

I groan and finally get out of bed, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my pointer finger and thumb as I try to calm myself down. There's no need to work myself up before every class thinking of him.

I dress and eat, going about my morning routine as if I'm not insanely horny, before finally grabbing my books and making my way to The Study of Magic building on campus.

I find my regular seat, not right in front but not right in the middle of the rows. The closer to the front, the closer I am to the writing on the chalkboard so I can take notes. That part is real, I need to get better at focusing for class, because as of right now, my assignments I have been handing in are only getting average marks in return.

Class ticks on and on, and I study my Professor's movements methodically. His teaching robes are dark with stripes of red going down on his shoulders. They reach the floor, which leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. He wore his glasses today, round lenses that don't sit on his nose well, making him constantly have to push the glasses up higher on his face. His hair is messy, small grey streaks sneak into his brown locks. He is so handsome.

At the end of class, when all is dismissed, I haven't taken any notes. All I've done is watch Professor Dekarios's hands as he swung them around, his lips as he spoke, his eyes as he went through the emotions of telling his story.

Everyone in the class packs up their books in their bags, chatting freely as they leave their seats to leave. I'm slower packing up, waiting for people to leave the row first before I start shoving my books into my own bag.

I look up to find Professor Dekarios's gaze on me, I can't tell the emotion in his eyes. He makes a ‘come here' motion with his finger, to which my heart rate spikes. Am I in trouble? I think to myself.

I finish packing quickly and make my way over to him and his desk, every other classmate now out of the room.

“We need to talk.” He says with a sigh, leaning against the front of his desk and crossing his arms.

“I have threatened suspension, called your parents, I have given you so much time and leeway for you to finish assignments, and yet you refuse to get your act together.” He continues, taking off his glasses and setting them down on his desk.

“I'm sorry, I-” I try to say, trying to come up with some sort of excuse that isn't ‘all I think about is you. you're the cause of my bad grades.’

“I am running out of appropriate punishments. At this point, I'll need to spank you like a child to get my point across.” He spits out. His face has contorted to anger.

I open my mouth to speak and nothing comes out, I'm at a loss for words. Spanking? Does he mean that? My face feels hot, and I try to forget the constant throbbing that comes from my clit.

“Maybe you should then.” Is what I say. I meet his eyes to convey my seriousness. “Spank me, I mean.”

He raises an eyebrow, his jaw clenched as he looks at me.

“Fine. Set your bag down, and bend over the desk.”

I stand frozen for a minute, realising that this is happening. He moves slightly to give me more room on the desk, his anger still evident.

I slowly set my bag down on the floor and stepped up to the desk, leaning over it slightly. Placing my hands to lay flat against the mahogany. I hear my Professor before I feel him, he stands behind me and quickly lands a sharp slap to my behind. I gasp and lean forwards more, my elbows now against the table.

The sting from his hand hit me hard, even though my clothes were still on, the roughness of his hands were evident.

“Mr. Dekarios!-” I gasp out, to which he replies “Call me Gale.”

“Gale” I breathe his name. It feels good against my tongue, comfortable.

He hits me again, on the other cheek this time. I crumble forwards again, my chest hitting the desk now as I'm fully bent over. My nails claw against the wood, and my breathing becomes ragged.

“Have you learnt your lesson yet?” Gale asks me, his hand comes to lay on my ass gently, hoping to bring some sort of comfort to the situation. He presses his crotch against me, and I can feel how hard he is. I whine out a quiet “yes” as I try to push myself against him.

The friction, for even just half a second, feels so good it makes me want to cry. I've wanted this for so long, I could probably cum from just the friction.

His hand on my ass moves to cup my cunt, bringing a whimper out of me. “Please” I beg, trying to move my hips against his hand.

“Can I take these off?” He asks, his other hand moving to snap the waistband of my trousers against my skin. I nod quickly, spewing more “please”s.

Gale takes them off quickly, only pushing them down to wrap around my ankles, his fingers coming back up to my uncovered folds. spreading them open with his thumbs, my slick already coating his digits.

“How long have you been wet for?” He breathes.

“All day.”

He groans. A gutteral sound that sends shivers down my spine as his fingers move again, this time to prod at my clit. Flicking it back and forth agonisingly slowly. His other hand moves to press against my lower back, keeping me grounded against the table.

A very gentle slap is sent to my cunt, the sound of flesh slapping against wetness filled the air for only a second. I whine again, biting my lip to stop the tears that threaten to spill. I have wanted him to touch me for so long, and how here he is, teasing me as I wriggle in his grasp.

He moves back to flick my clit again, this time harder and faster. Every once in a while circling it. My hips back on their own trying to get more pleasure, more friction from him.

It doesn't take long for me to scream out that I'm cumming. My body feels on fire as ecstasy courses through my veins. My legs shake from the pleasure as Gale tuts at me. My mouth opens in a silent scream as I try to control my emotions, tears have spilled from my eyes and landed onto the desk. Remnants of the filthy things we have done.

Gale removes his hand and pulls my pants back up, tapping my ass again gently.

I turn around on wobbly legs and try to move his robes up to get to him, but he grabs my wrists and stops me in my tracks. He smirks devilishly, his next words make my legs threaten to collapse even more than before.

“Only good girls who pay attention in class get my cock.”

Before long he's sending me on my way, not even a kiss on the lips goodbye. By the time I make it back to my dorm room I'm collapsing on the bed with a squeal. I will definitely be paying better attention now.

[angellurgy]

CORPODOG

(repost from my ao3, where you are kidnapped by a security officer for a large corporation, and surgically/mechanically turned into her dog. a bit of gore, and abuse)

a bright red light blinks overhead, bathing my concrete cell in a deep crimson glow and searing through my eyelids that i kept desperately shut. it’d been this way for weeks, a constant switching between pitch black and the scorching brightness battering at my tired mind. it was incessant. it took me forever to stop begging for it to be changed. i would've taken constant darkness over the terrible flickering, but my pleas were never answered and the light stayed. i slumped in the little wooden cot my captor blessed me with, it was so small i had to curl into a fetal position to sleep but it was infinitely better than the freezing cold floor. i had to sleep there the first week. every time i woke my skin would be covered in dark marks and i'd shiver like a motherfucker. the things i had to do to earn this cot... i pray i never have to recount them.

my disassociation is broken by the sound of hard banging from the outside of my cell, the telltale sign of my captor’s return. footsteps trail through the rest of the house above me almost mockingly loud, reaching the thick metal door that holds me. a lock unlatches, followed by another, and another, and another, and the door finally swings open with an echoing thud. her towering figure looms over my huddling body from the doorway, a dark silhouette so domineering i can't help but quake in fear. she moves forward in one snap movement, wrapping my wrist tightly in her hand and tugging me up out of bed. i fall to my knees, painfully scraping against the grating concrete as she pulls me closer.

her hand grips my chin and i cower instinctually, snarling like a dog at this disgusting slight. i wouldn't submit, no matter what she tried, even if these sycacorp fucks were known for their brutality and creativity. there's been a lot of testimonials from 'reformed' anti-corpo rebels posted nearly everywhere online. thankfully, i'd dug into their systems and found what they did to those poor people, and have braced myself for every act they may do to me.

a glob of spit strikes my face while i am incapable of moving it, and she attempts to push me down onto all fours. although i may not be happy, i know fighting won't change a thing, i can see the various syringes of anaesthetics and other drugs hanging from her belt purposefully being shown off. i get onto all fours with enraged obedience, and she pulls me through the doors and up the stairs. it's the first time i've been out in… a week, i think? time truly means nothing when you're stuck in captivity, i’ve found. no lights, no windows, no clocks, it's all one moment of inescapable blank space.

i follow her guiding hand through the dark narrow halls of what i assume to be her house, passing room after room until we finally stop in front of a large white metal door, like that you'd see at a hospital. she turns back and smiles at me wordlessly before opening the door slowly, revealing to me a large steel operating table, and innumerous trays filled with various tools and sharp objects. i can already assume somewhat of what she may do, so without a second’s thought, i bolt. my brain yells at me reminding me of all the training i had done, you know running only makes it worse for their captives, stop. what the fuck are you doing? but my physical instincts override everything else. i'm actually gonna make it, i can see the door i was first dragged through, just a few more steps, just a few more and- she grabs the scruff of my neck out of nowhere, pulling me back to a stop in one tug. her strength is terrifying, and i can practically hear the grin on her face. i kick wildly and scream my lungs out as she drags me back, yelling for help as loud as i can but we both know there will be no response.

somewhere in the scuffle i manage to land a punch right into her crotch, and for a terrifying second, she stops. she's just reeling in pain, surely that must've hurt her, right? then a sharp pain hits my neck, and in less than a second my limbs are slumped, and no matter how hard i try to move them i can't make them budge an inch. she scoffs with a chuckle and throws me onto the operating table, and in the deepest voice i've ever heard she breaks the silence. "should've been good, roach" she pulls two leather straps from the bottom of the table up and wraps them over my stomach, "and to think i was even going to let you sleep through this. oh well." she reaches down away from sight, and when she comes up in her hand is a large circular saw, like one you'd use to cut through wood. she grins at me with sadistic glee and with the flick of a switch the saw is moving. i have no clue what she's gonna do to me, and that's the most terrifying thing of all. there were never any victims on operating tables in the files.. no surgeries, no saws, nothing like that! "i suppose you're wondering why this treatment huh? did you seriously think we'd just leave out evidence like that? god you poors are pathetic." she scoffs. "we had your location the minute you plugged in that usb. every second you dug through our files, every little 'firewall' you thought you broke through, was letting us find out more and more of your worthless little life. it's okay though, i'm gonna give you a life worth living, much better than the lives you roaches choose to live.

while i'm focused on her moving lips, the saw breaks through the flesh of my shoulder in my peripherals. whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck, my brain is on overdrive, it cant make sense of anything it sees. why can't i feel this? oh god was that a chunk of bone- fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. little bits of my flesh fly everywhere. i hear my bones snapping, blood pouring and pooling on the table around me, tainting my skin in my own fluids. suddenly the saw pulls away, and i am once again entirely confused. until i see her holding my right arm in her own, and she waves it at me like this is some cruel joke. i want to spit on her, i want to kill her, i want to fucking rip her heart out with my teeth. i growl at her, and it's like she can read my mind. she stares into my very soul and for the first time, for some reason, gives me a tiny, approving nod. while i'm staring into her eyes with fiery hatred, i don't even notice she's started on my other arm, until it's already detached, sliding off the table with a disgusting slap.

she picks up my lost limb, and chucks it into a bucket labelled 'disposal' like she's playing basketball. god she's disgusting, what a fucking wretch. i want nothing more than to end this glorious- fuck, i mean horrible- woman's life right here. i thrash my body with all my strength, my arms should be flailing, but they're not there. my legs should be kicking, but they're- they just won't. they won't even tremble, they only lay there traitorously like they're offering themselves, and i fucking hate them for it. she sighs, like this is some tedious ordeal for her, and brings her saw into the spot where my leg begins. i can finally get a good view, and now i really wish i couldn't. she pushes it back and forth, helping its teeth dig through my flesh. blood spurts out from me like a broken faucet, flesh and bone chips spraying about. it looks like i'm being tossed in a woodchipper with how much gore is escaping my body. i hear my bone crack in two, and she slowly pulls it away, lifting it up and forcing me to stare directly at my detached leg and into my own snapped bone.

she's broken me, she has to have. i can't take it, i try to beg over and over but my mouth won't move, i try to scream and cry and plead but nothing comes out except silent tears endlessly streaming down my face. she shushes me. she has to know i'm spent now, as she moves through the next leg quickly, letting the saw do its work digging into the cavities of my limb and slicing it off in a cut so cleanly straight it's surreal. i gasp, at least in my head, as my mouth will not produce the noises i know i am making. is it over? is this all she wanted? to leave me limbless? helpless? she tssks, again as if she can predict my every thought. i am demoralised, i failed. i failed all the victims before me, i failed everyone doing the same work as me, and most pathetically, i failed myself.

i hear loud clicking by my side, along with various metallic clunking and whirring as she rummages around for god knows what. her hand presses down on my chest for support. god, that hand... it's been so long since i felt human touch, the warmth... i want more. please, i silently beg, give me more. i can't take this. every part of me is screaming at myself, but i can't help but cherish this sweet, sweet warmth emanating from her. i'm broken from my entranced stupor by the sound of flesh squelching and robotic beeping, and i see her shoving something into the slot where my arm used to be. it's a robotic limb, a sycacorp classic. the thing that really got them going, honestly. i'm struck with memories of when they first came out. i was still a child then, it was supposed to be a miracle, an ingenious revolution in prosthetics. the cybernetics linked perfectly with every system in your body and worked perfectly like a human limb, it didn't even need to be removed. it couldn't be removed, even. and for a while it *was* a miracle, but 10 years later when they'd gotten sufficient political power, the shit behind the miracle was revealed. the corp had a direct link into every single limb ever implanted in a human body. they could override its functions with the flick of a switch, and you would have no control over your own parts. most struck up terribly shit contracts working for syca in return for usage back, but some fought back, and for those, it just so happened that most of theirs 'malfunctioned', leaving them either dead or too severely injured to live a normal life ever again.

there’s something shamefully comforting about this attachment of a limb, like i’m... being repaired, like my shell is finally being fixed. yet i’ll still try to hate her no matter what, even through the haze of my broken will. she moves onto the next arm, clicking it in comfortably with a snap and the beeps of sensors coming online. the limbs are a sleek black metal, like if latex was a tough, nearly unbreaking material. all i can think of is how badly i wanted one of these as a kid, before i realized how fucked this whole thing really is. the metal was so 'badass', like one of those cyborgs from old sci-fi movies. just to see, i try to move the new limbs, and in response they scream at me with a terrible sound, piercing my ears like a dog whistle. my captor turns to me holding a large, muscular leg in her arms, the animalistic variant. i remember those flying off the shelves even for non-amputees when they first came out. i still wonder why that is. "don't worry about trying to move. you haven't been signed up as an admin for these, only a sycacorp official can program em' now" noticing the paws on the leg she drags over to me, i frantically look at my dangling arms. and there it is. the arms are the animalistic variant too, is she trying to make me some kind of fucked up art piece? i've seen videos and i know these things have no practical purposes, you can't even manipulate objects when you have them attached. she smiles at my obvious panic shining through my eyes, before sliding both legs into place. a shock runs up my body, a tingling forcing my limp body to convulse shortly as the connected limbs all interface with each other, and connect into my spine with a loud ding. "interfacing [successful]. welcome- {Mutt}!" a choppy, detached robotic lady’s voice sounds out, coming from somewhere deep inside me. oh fuck.

my new limbs spring into action, sending me flying off the operating table with enough strength to snap the straps keeping me down right off, and landing on the floor on all fours. my handler- captor, reaches down and examines my limbs, appearing happy with their placement. from her pocket she pulls out a little gun-shaped thing, and presses it into my neck, firing a sharp jolt of electricity through my veins and through every inch of my remaining flesh. i growl at her and- huh. why *am* i growling at her? my body feels woozy, like i'm disassociating yet still fully present. i look and she's staring down at me expectantly, i've never seen her from this angle before, she's so... tall. i feel shorter now, even with my canine attachments. she looks so wonderful, i wish i could die for her. what? why did i say that, i- suddenly i am rocked by the memories of the feeling of her hand on my chest, of the warmth that enveloped my entire body, the fuzziness that corrupted my mind. without even thinking i reach my head closer to her leg, and she drops her hand into my fur- i am in utter heaven.

"hey mutt, you're gonna be good for me now right?" she barks. i don't know how else to respond. yes. yes. a million times yes. i will kill and die for you and act out your every wish. i nod profusely, not even attempting to speak. "oh you sweet pathetic thing, i fixed your speech with that chip, try it out." my vocal cords strain, but i manage what should be a "yes", what comes out however, is "bark!" i want to cry. i am so overwhelmed with every emotion i can possibly imagine. my limbs move me closer, finally an action i wanted. she reaches under my chin just like before, and stares deep into my swollen watery eyes. she leans back, and i prepare for spit to strike my face, but it never does.

she pulls a cigarette from her pocket and lights up, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke into my face. "none of my coworkers thought i'd be able to turn a lowlife roach into one of our own." she mutters, "but look at this. now i have a perfect little guard dog to join me" she finishes her cigarette and throws it on the ground, grinding it down with her boot. "lets go mutt, we have other scum to catch"

[fanficsformyfaves]

And I've Been Meaning To Tell You, I Think Your House Is Haunted

Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader

WARNING: ANGST, Emotionally and Physically Abusive Relationship with Father, Hurt to Comfort

PREFACE: After a fight with her dad, Reader runs back up to her room, when she hears someone at her window

A/N: Phone calls are Colored and in Bold!

Sidney and Billy aren't together and Billy and Stu are not a killers in this A/U!

"YOU'RE A SHIT DAD! YOU DRIVE MOM AWAY BY CHEATING ON HER AND NOW, YOU'RE TELLING ME YOU SOLD MY CAR?! FOR WHAT?! TO BUY MORE FUCKING BOOZE?!", I scream,

Shoving him backwards. Just then, my father slaps me across me the face, causing a gasp to escape me as a result. I hold the stinging hand mark on my cheek, as the ringing began to pick up in my ears.

"Bitch to someone that fucking cares", he spits,

Sitting back down and picking up another bottle.

"Kill yourself", I say under my breath,

Before storming back up to my room and slamming the door behind me.

My life was a living nightmare that I couldn't escape from. Ever since my mom left, everything went to shit. All my father ever did was turn to alcohol to fill that void and he used me as the punching bag to distract himself from his own misery.

I wanted to go with her, but she was already gone before I even knew what happened. The only reason I found out was by reading the note she left on the kitchen counter when I woke up that morning.

To say I was devastated would be an understatement.

As I sat on the foot of my bed, struggling to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill and remembering the pain I felt on the day day she left, I hear something rustle on the other side my window.

"What the fuck?", I mutter to myself,

Getting back up. I reluctantly make my way to the window and open it to look outside.

At first, I don't see anything, but then I feel a hand grab at my wrist, making me scream at the top of my lungs, as I pulled away.

"Hey...it's just me", Billy reassures,

"Billy? What the-"

"I'm sorry. Don't hate me", he interrupts,

While climbing through to the inside of my room.

"What are you doing here?", I question,

"I heard you screaming from down the street", he answers,

Dusting himself off.

Billy and I met during sophomore year and got together a few months later. Him and his friends were the only people I actually enjoyed hanging out with. My dad never cared about me, so it was nice to have people that did. Whenever another fight would happen, they'd always insist on me staying the night at one of theirs.

"It's fine", I sigh in defeat,

Sitting back down on my bed.

"Doesn't sound like it", he joins me,

Before taking my hand into his.

"Look, I ain't gonna make you tell me anything you don't want to...but I'm worried about you, kid", he caresses the back of my hand,

As I nervously chew at my bottom lip.

"You know I'm always here to listen"

"It just sucks, Billy. He fucked up things up with my mom and now he's fucking things up for me", I explained,

He shakes his head, tucking a rouge strand of hair behind my ear. It was just then he notices the hand mark on my cheek.

"What the fuck?", he exclaims,

"Billy-"

"Did he fucking hit you?", he cuts off,

"Yes, but, it doesn't matter-"

"Like hell, it doesn't!", he yells,

Getting off the bed and rushing towards my door, when I make a desperate attempt to stop him by wrapping my arms around his waist.

"Billy, please don't!", I shriek,

Not wanting to make things were.

"That son of a bitch can't just hurt you and get away with it!"

"Billy", I sob,

Unable to hold back the tears from spilling any longer. His body softens and he looks back at me from underneath his arm.

"It'll only make things worse, please", I pleaded,

Seeing how distraught I was, he takes a deep breath and turns to hold me tight in his arms.

"Okay, fine"

"He'll hurt you too. Just...please don't"

I would've never been able to forgive myself if something happened to Billy.

"Hey, look at me", he says,

Pulling away and holding my warm face in his hands.

"I'm not letting you stay here. My old man's out of town for the week, so you can stay at mine"

"I couldn't impose-"

"It's not imposing, if I ask"

"I'd make me feel a lot better to know you were fine and what better way to make sure of that, then to have you stay with me?"

"I don't know, Billy"

On one hand, my dad couldn't give less of a shit where I slept, but on the other, I hated feeling like a charity case.

"Look, we could invite the gang over and watch some scary movies. I know you're a sucker for those", he suggests,

Making me laugh to myself.

"We could even stop by the store and get you your favorite snacks, obviously, it's my treat", he added,

Taking my hands into his. I couldn't help but sigh contently at his sweet he was. Every time we were together, it felt like nothing else mattered, except us in that moment.

"So?"

I take a moment, before finally agreeing.

"That does sound nice"

"Yes! Alright, pack your shit and meet me outside. My car's parked down the street, so I need to get it", he exclaims excitedly,

Pressing his lips go mine, as I giggle at his eagerness.

"I'll call everyone and let them know we're meeting at yours"

"Sounds like a plan. See you in a minute", he says,

Hurrying out the window. I pick up the landline and dial up Tatum and Sidney first. A few rings go by and they both answer at the same time.

Sid: Hello?

Tate: Hey!

Me: Hey, so, impromptu movie sesh at Billy's. Are you girls' down?

Tate: Hell yeah!

Sid: I'd love to, but my dad would freak if I asked to go to Billy's house

Tate: Then, don't tell him? Just say you're staying at mine

Sid: I don't know-

Tate: We're going

Sid: Tate!

Tate: Oh, come on, Sidney, I'll pick you up!

Me: I really want you guys there. I'm inviting the guys too and I'd rather not drown in all that testosterone

Tate: Exactly! We can't just leave our girl to fend for herself!

Me: Pretty please with the juiciest cherries on top?!

Sid: *Sighs* Alright. I'm packing a bag

Tatum: Awesome! I'll be there in 10

Me: Kk, see you there! Just gotta call up Bert and Ernie

I joke, before hanging up and putting in their numbers in. As I waited, I began stuffing my backpack with pajamas, toiletries, my books for tomorrow and a change of clothes.

The moment I was done pulling up the zipper, Stu finally answered the call.

Stu: Hellooo

Me: Hey, Stu! Got a minute?

Stu: Oh, I've got all the time in the world for you, gorgeous

Me: *Scoffs*

Just then, Randy joins the call.

Randy: Hello?

Stu: Ugh, why'd you add rat-boy?

Randy: If I'm rat-boy, what the hell does that make you?

Stu: Incredibly sexy in comparison?

Randy: You know what-

Me: Jesus, could we please cut the biggest-dick-contest short?

Randy: He started it!

Stu: Oh, grow a pair!

Me: GUYS!

I scold, finally causing them to fall silent.

Me: I was just about to invite you for a movie night at Billy's, but if you two fucknuts can't get along-

Stu and Randy: No!

Stu: I mean...fine. We'll behave, Ms.(Y/L/N)

He promises in a sarcastic tone, making me roll my eyes.

Me: Just get to Billy's

I eventually hang up the phone, pick up my stuff and climbed out the window. Just as he promised, there Billy was, waiting for me in his car. I hop in and he turns up the music.

"You ready?"

I smile and kissed him once more.

"Hell yeah"

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 05

-> 05 - Girl Crush*

pairing; noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist; here | crossposted; ao3 | word count; 10.3k 😅

warnings; sad lol, dumb boys, mutual masturbation, p0rn, alcohol, peer pressure, vomiting, college!omens, jolly intro, gay panic & very mild gender confusion??, denial is a river in egypt, 18+ MDNI

REMINDER: this is an au where everyone is around the same age, follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

-NICHOLAS- 

It had been about a month since Noah moved out completely and was fully living with us. It wasn’t that difficult of a transition since he stayed with us most of the time anyway. He seemed to be finally settling in and getting comfortable, which I was happy about.

Him living in my house wasn’t the only thing that became comfortable - in fact maybe we’d gotten too comfortable. 

That first night weeks ago, where we took care of our morning wood next to each other, wasn’t the last time. It started as that one time thing, then an occasional thing, then finally, a casual thing. Neither one of us seemed to take it seriously, maybe to play off the implications of it. Because what else are you supposed to do when you jack off next to your best friend regularly?

It became so casual, sometimes as if the other wasn’t there.

--

My half-asleep ears fill with the faint sounds of moans, accompanied by restrained groans I recognize. The more I wake I feel movement behind me.

I stir a bit before turning around finding Noah pumping himself under the covers while holding his phone in the other. He jumps a little when I catch him but doesn’t stop. His actions only halt temporarily.

“Sorry if I woke you up.” He says bashfully, baby pink tinting his cheeks.

“It’s fine.” I gulp, my eyes drifting to the obscene noises coming from his phone. “Whatcha watching?”

He shrugs, tilting his phone to me, revealing the most generic looking porn I’ve ever seen. But porn is porn and it makes my already semi-hard dick twitch. “You wanna… watch too?”

My cheeks grow warm at the offer, “Oh, um, I mean, I don’t wanna intrude…” Though, I can’t help my eyes from being glued to the screen.

He shifts a bit and reaches over, setting the phone down between us propped up in a divot of comforter. In the clumsy process, the duvet slides off his lap revealing his cock.

My eyes widen at the sight of him but I immediately divert my attention so that he doesn’t catch me and assume something else.

“Oh sorry.” He blushes and goes to cover himself again but pauses, “Actually, do you mind? I just don’t wanna deal with the mess and-“

“I don’t mind.” I reply faster than intended. I shake my head, “I just don’t wanna… do that. But I don’t care if you do.”

“Cool.” He nods and returns to his previous position with his eyes locked on the screen.

There’s a panicky heartbeat lingering in my chest but the throbbing in my cock takes precedence. I relax a bit beside him and life the duvet higher up on my body, trying to cover as much of myself as possible.

I spit into my hand before dipping it beneath the covers and down around my member, working it out from my shorts. A hiss leaves my mouth at the coldness of my palm but it doesn’t take long for that discomfort to fade.

My eyes begin on the phone, to the blonde woman with large unnaturally perky breasts being railed by some strong man with a big dick, something you’d find on the first page of any porn site. Not my usual cup of tea but whatever, it’s doing something for me right now.

Naturally, my eyes drift and happen to fall on Noah’s cock. His large hand works up and down his member – he’s duo-toned darker at the base and lighter towards the tip, kind of like me just much pinker. I glance between him and the man in the video. He’s smaller than the man, but he’s definitely not small. The video is obviously emphasizing the man’s large size, but he’s still smaller than me, not by much but he is. It makes me wonder if Noah would be impressed by my size.

Why would I think that? What do I care if Noah’s impressed by my dick?

Noah’s probably not even looking at him like that, I’m just weird I guess.

As if on cue, Noah comments.

“I wish my dick was that big.”

Not wanting to stay uncomfortably silent, I nervously chuckle, “Yeah me too.”

“Well, how big are you?” He asks casually.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Surely, he doesn’t actually wanna know.

“Oh – oh, I don’t know, but I don’t wanna take the covers off because-“

Noah proposes a solution, “I could feel?”

“I uh – what do you mean?”

“Like, feel it under the covers. So, I can’t see it. That’s what you’re insecure about isn’t it?”

“Um, I, well,” I stutter, trying to think of any sort of appropriate response. I should say no. I shouldn’t want him to do that. But something in me screams that this might be the only time this could happen – not sure why that’s even important. “Um, sure.”

I scooch a little closer to him so it’s easier for him to reach. Unexpectedly, he brings his free hand up to his mouth and spits into it. My eyebrows furrow at the action, not quite understanding why that’s necessary. But when his arm snakes itself under the covers and his hand replaces mine, I’m suddenly not as confused.

My eyes round at the feeling of his hand around me and every muscle in my body tenses when he starts moving.

“Jesus, you’re pretty big.” He says before his hand even reaches my tip.

Suddenly, all the nerves in my body seem to flood to cock and I feel so sensitive under his fingertips. I should be watching the video, but my eyes bounce between his still working on himself and on his other one bobbing under the covers. I can’t tell fully, but it seems like he’s pumping himself faster than before.

His palm reaches the head then slowly slides back down. “You’re so much bigger than me.” His voice seeming casual, but there’s a hint of strain beneath it.

His words and his even faster movements on both of us only worsens the buzzing in my cock.

“Is this okay? I just, I’ve only ever felt my own dick so, I’ve only ever imagined what having a bigger one would feel like.”

“Yeah, yep. It’s fine.” I reply quickly, just trying to maintain my composure.

My chest rises and falls rapidly and my fingers curl into the sheets. A familiar knot forms in the pit of my tummy and the last thing I want to do is cum while he’s touching me. His hand moves on me at the same speed as on his own. His fingertips stride up and down the underside of my length, hitting the sensitive spot beneath my tip every time. My lips press flat together as I try to stave off my orgasm – I don’t want to cum while he’s touching me, but I also don’t want him to stop.

Thankfully he has less stamina than I do.

“Ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, working quickly on himself chasing his climax. “Fuck, fuck!” He whines desperately. His hand doesn’t stop on me while his hips buck up into his hand spurting milky white all over his exposed tummy.

The visual of his cock twitching and spilling cum all over his hand, combined with his high pitched moans and his hand on me catapults me over the edge. “F-Fuck.” I sputter out a strangled groan and scrunch my eyes closed. Before I have time to yank him off of me, my body goes rigid beneath him. The buzzing across my skin seems to all rush into my throbbing cock in Noah’s still moving hand. “O-Oh.” Slips from my mouth just above a whisper while every muscle in my abdomen tightens. I feel myself twitch and spill my own cum into the duvet and all over his hand.

The orgasm nearly blinds my vision and my heart beats so fast I can hear it thumping in my ears. Those couple seconds where it was just me, my racing heart and my throbbing cock, it was pure bliss. Possibly the hardest I’ve ever came before. 

It’s not until I begin to come down that I realize what just happened and that… he worked me fully through my high? 

My eyes shoot open the second I return to earth and feel his hand finally slip off my softening member. For a split second I contemplate if there’s a way for me to get out of this without even looking at him and god I wish there was. 

Fuck

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” I begin to profusely apologize before he cuts me off. 

He laughs, “It’s okay. I’m sure having someone else’s hand probably feels a lot better than your own. Even if it had been you I probably would’ve came even faster than normal… and you know I already don’t last long as it is.” He chuckles with a light peach tinting his cheeks.

One part of me feels bad that I hadn’t returned the favor, until I remember I didn’t really even want to do this to begin with. Then, another part of me wishes I had returned the favor, maybe I wanted to know the same thing he did - maybe I want to know what another cock would feel like in my hand too. 

“Yeah - um,” I swallow the little saliva I have left in my dry mouth. “Yeah it was nice.” 

He pulls his hand from beneath the covers. “So much for not making a mess.” He laughs. 

My eyes round when I see just how much I had spilt all over his hand. “Yeah, yeah sorry again, I just didn’t think that…” My eyes follow his stare on the milky white mess of mine on his hand. 

His coffee brown eyes snap up to mine and utters out the last words I ever thought he’d say. “Have you ever tasted your own cum?”

I blink blankly at him, completely devoid of words. 

What the fuck

“I-I um, no? Why would I?” 

“I don’t know, curiosity?”

“…Have you?”

“Well, yeah, I wanted to know.” He shrugs. “It was gross, bitter. But,” His eyes flutter back down to his hand. “I’ve obviously never tasted anyone else’s. I wonder if yours tastes different?”

My brain seems to glitch, not fully comprehending his statement. 

“I-I um, I mean, probably.”

“Would it be super weird if I tasted it?”

My brows shoot up at the question. 

But I reply before I’m even sure of my answer. “No, I um, don’t think it would be that weird?” 

And it wouldn’t be, right?

He’s just curious.

Just like he was about my cock. 

“Alright.” His tone much less confident than just seconds ago. 

His dark brown eyes drop to the puddle of my cum on his right hand, just above where his thumb meets his hand. He lifts it tentatively up to his mouth; my eyes can’t help but rotate between his face and his approaching hand. Hesitantly, he darts his pink tongue past his lips to dip the tip of it into the puddle. Unexpectedly, his eyes find mine, snapping me out of my gaze that was locked on his tongue. His mahogany eyes surprise me, with how round and soft they are - so puppy dog-like for a situation such as this. I blink at him and for some reason, seeing him flatten his tongue a bit on the remnants of me makes my cock twitch. He takes a scoop of my orgasm on his tongue and into his mouth. 

“Hm.” He hums, almost sounding pleased, like he was taste-testing wine. “You taste better than me. Sweeter. Must be all those bananas you eat.”

Sweeter

My brows join together, perturbed, “It can’t be that different?”

His boney shoulders raise into a shrug. “You can try mine if you want? To make it even or whatever.” He gestures his left hand up a bit to remind me that his mess remains on that hand too. 

“Oh - I - well -“ I watch his hand gesture towards me again. The turbulence in my tummy reminds me of when someone offers you a gift and out of politeness, you’re supposed to refuse it - but I don’t want to refuse. I want to know.

“Oh c’mon it’s only fair, it’s not that bad.” He urges me, only reaffirming my inability to voice a decline. 

I look down at the back of his hand covered in cloudy white rivers. My fingers gently take hold of his wrist and he lets me take control of his arm without a single ounce of resistance. I bring his hand to my lips and copy his actions - dart my tongue out and meet his eyes. His are just as intrigued as mine were, locked in my tongue. 

The second his cum meets my taste buds, my eyes flutter closed. I’m surprised at the taste, it’s bitter and salty, what I imagine battery acid must taste like. The texture is about what I imagined, thick and slimy. And yet, even with the immediate disgust of it, it makes my cock twitch again. There’s a tingle in my fingertips and on my tongue that urges me to lap up the rest of his orgasm but I fear if I did, I’d be completely hard again. I never thought something as rancid as battery acid would make me hard, but for some reason right now it’s threatening to. 

I’ve never been more grateful for anything more than the duvet on my body right now. 

I half-force a twist in my face at the taste as I pull back from his arm. “Augh, that’s disgusting.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh, “See! Told ya.” 

A nervous chuckle escapes me, “That you did…” 

-Next Day- 

Since landing an apprenticeship at a local tattoo parlor, I don’t see much of either Noah or Folio. While I’m at work after class, they’ve been hanging out at the library in a study group full of people I barely know - people from the frat party a couple weeks ago. 

Today though, I got off my shift early and I’m on a different mission. 

-

My tires screech and the weight of my entire body jerks forward as Stella makes another abrupt stop at a redlight. My hand lands on my dash as a reflex I had gotten far too familiar with.

My tongue passes between my lips before pressing them together and close my eyes through a deep breath. I consider myself a fairly patient person, but if there’s anyone on earth who could get me to snap, it is definitely my sister.

“I told you to start braking 5 million feet ago.” I exhaled with the hopes of Buddha himself coming down and bestowing me with a well-deserved medal of excellent patience.

“Whatever, we still stopped, didn’t we?” She sasses, as she continues to dance to whatever pop song pours through the speakers.

“Yeah, barely.” I grumble, crossing my arms in the passenger seat. “I have no idea how they let you pass your driver’s test.”

“You are so grouchy today.” She glares at me. “What, did the shop bully you again?”

My eyes roll so hard they could’ve fallen out. “No.” I clench my fingers into my palms and stretch them out as overlayed flashbacks of scrubbing every inch of the tattoo parlor flash across my mind. “No, I just cleaned a lot. Fumes. Headache.”

“Right.” She responds unconvinced.

The car takes a sharp turn into a plaza I’ve only ever driven past before and pulls into a parking spot right in front of the destination of my mission.

“We’re here!” She beams, turning the engine off.

We walk up to the small shop snuggled in the tiny strip. The walls look like they were once white, a long, long time ago. Now they’re stained a yellow-y beige with weeds and vines growing across the plaster.

“’Record Store. Plus repairs.’” I read off the giant red letters above the door. “How creative.”

Stella’s elbow sharply jabs into my ribcage. “Ow!” I hiss and recoil away from her. 

“Be nice. Be cool.” She scolds me in a hushed tone.

Whatever the fuck ‘nice and cool’ means to a teenage girl.

A bell trills sharply when she pushes open the glass door. A rush of cold AC blasts against our skin soon as we step into the foyer. 

At the tall reception desk stands a man with lengthy brown hair and a long face. He looks a couple years older than me, at least 23ish.

“Hi Jolly!” Perks Stella almost jumping the second her fingertips meet the glossy wood.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip in an attempt to stifle a giggle when I see the man noticeably deflate the moment he hears the shrill chirp of my sister’s 16-year old voice.

He sets down his pen on whatever paperwork he was working on and turns to us, “Hello Stella.” He greets flatly, with a hint of a foreign accent I can’t place yet.

It’s quite obvious that she comes in here often, more than she’s let on – enough for them to be on a first-name basis.

“Jolly, this is my brother Nick, Nick this is Jolly.” She beams at his name, completely smitten with the older boy. If it wasn’t so obvious that he’s irritated by her mere presence, I’d be more protective of her - but she’s perfectly fine. She’s made sure of that herself.  

“Hey.” I meekly wave at him.

He acknowledges me with a nod and looks back at her. “What’s up.”

“Well, we need your help!” She rocks up and down on her feet with her hands behind her back.

“Great. What is it you need help with?” His fingertips restlessly patter on the table top, impatiently waiting for her to deliver her pitch faster. 

“Go on Nick, show him.” She urges motioning her hand towards him.

I sigh and pull out my phone from my jean’s back pocket, then scroll to find a picture of Noah’s snapped guitar and hand it to the man.

“Could you fix that? Or know someone who could?” I inquire, already feeling as though the trip was hopeless.

His brows pull together as he inspects the picture then uses two fingers to zoom in on the instrument. “Whoever did this really did a number on it.”

“Yeah.” I mumble, scratching the back of my neck. “So, do you think you could fix it?”

“Hmm.” He hums, pulling down his thick-rimmed glasses down his nose. “I can’t say for sure, you’d have to bring it in.”

Air escapes my throat with another sigh, that’s the last thing I wanted to hear. “Okay. I’ll get it in as soon as I can.” Even though I have no idea how I’ll be able to do that without Noah noticing.

He hands me back my phone, “That’s a really rough break.”

“Trust me, I know. Thanks for looking.” My tone suddenly lacking optimism. “And sorry about…” When I turn to point at Stella, I realize she’s not beside me anymore, now shuffling through the various wooden crates of records. “Her.”

He taps his pen against the counter and glances over at her. “It’s fine. She brings friends in. They buy records. Sales are sales.” He shrugs before going back to whatever he was working on before we interrupted him.

Stella doesn’t seem to want to leave anytime soon so I let myself roam around the shop. The majority of the small store is made up of boxes full of records, a mix of old and new. A small, separated section has various instruments strewn about, most of them looking refurbished. The air is pungent with the smell of sandalwood incense, some kind of chemical-y polish, and stale wood.

“Okay! Ready to go!” Stella calls from behind me and when I turn to her she’s holding a record that I recognize.

“Since when do you listen to Nine Inch Nails?” My brow arches up, seeing as she’s only ever been a Taylor Swift type of girl.

She giggles, “Jolly suggested them.”

I take two fingers and pinch the bridge of my nose with a deep sigh, “Okay, whatever, let’s go.”

--

Stella and I walk into the house and my ears are immediately unsettled by the sounds that fill the house. They’re giggles, some I recognize to be Noah’s but the other is quite … feminine. 

The edges of Stella’s lip curl into a mischievous grin, “Oooooh Noah snuck a girl innnn.” She snickers in a sing-song tone.

“Go to your room Stella.” I order, mostly because her tone irritated me but also because I don’t want her to see what’s behind the cracked door.

She gives me a glare, “You’re just jealous that he’s getting some and you’re not.”

“Go. To. Your. Room.” I repeat sternly through gritted teeth.

“Fine, whatever. Be the party pooper you always are.” She huffs before turning down the hall and slamming the door behind her when gets to her room.

I blink at the doorknob as her words sear into my chest. I question even interrupting until another giggle pierces my eardrums.

I’m precarious with the way I approach the cracked door and peer in. Noah and the girl from the party, Kassidy, next to each other on the bed with open textbooks and notebooks littered about. They’re laughing at something but all I can focus on is her hand on his thigh. An odd twist forms in my abdomen, somewhere between my ribs and my gut. It makes me feel sick, like I ate some gas station sushi.

My knuckle taps on the door and creaks it open. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey Nick!” Noah seems surprised to see me but not necessarily upset by my presence, which for some reason eases the knot in my chest. “I heard a door slam did-”

It’s not until the blonde waves at me with the hand that’s not glued to Noah’s thigh that I realize the anger staining my fingertips.

“Noah, can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask through a fake smile.

“Sure.” He nods, “Be right back, Kass.”

Once the bedroom door clicks behind him, I feel myself begin to unravel.

“Does my mom know you’re bringing girls home?” I question, my voice coming out much harsher than intended.

“No…?” He answers. “I figured I would just do what we always did with each other? Sneak in.”

“Okay well, I don’t appreciate you bringing girls into my room. Please tell me you guys didn’t do anything in my bed.” The words shoot from me, quick and sharp, like acid bullets.

His face falls and I see the light behind his warm eyes dim.

My

Fuck

I regret the words the second I realize my mistake. Though I suppose on some level, deep down, I knew that the word choice would hurt him, but I said it anyway.

I said it anyway.

I was so upset that I said it anyway.

“No?” He replies sounding a bit offended at the accusation, even though it’s not out of the realm of possibility. “I wouldn’t do that in your bed.”

The impulse to lash back is there, bubbling just under my skin, but I have no reason to be angry. No valid, explainable reason. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lie.

“Right.” Noah says softly but with a slight edge. “Well, I” He thumbs over his shoulder. “Um, she was just about to leave so.”

“Okay.” I reply quietly, suddenly overwhelmed with an odd mixture of anger and guilt.

-

While Noah escorts the girl out to say goodbye, I begin tidying up the room. Noah is pretty clean thankfully, so the room itself is clean, but I can’t shake the feeling of something oddly foreign within the four walls. The room suddenly feels so dirty and the taste on my tongue is sour like expired milk. My eyes land on the bed sheets and my stomach feels like I had drank expired milk – maybe 3 whole gallons of it. My mind struggles to account for the food I had eaten today but fails. Surely that is the reason for my abrupt nausea.

Before I can even process my actions, my fingers hungrily latch onto the bed sheets, snapping each fitted corner off the mattress. Heavy textbooks and pens hit the floor with a loud crash.

Despite having just washed them, I’m absolutely positive that they’re filthy.

Maybe they smelled too much like stagnant laundry this morning

Maybe they were making me itchy last night

Maybe I developed an allergy to our detergent

Maybe it’s been too warm and I soaked them in sweat

Or maybe I just want to clean the fucking sheets.

“Oh,” Noah’s gentle voice startles me from the doorway. His eyes trail up from the mess on the floor to the balled-up sheets beneath my palms. “Um, did I accidentally get highlighter on them or something?”

“Nope.” I’m quick to answer. “Just wanna wash ‘em.”

His brows furrow still looking at where my hands keep the shape of the large sphere of material. “Oh. Um, well. I just washed them like 2 or 3 days ago?”

“It’s fine, I just want to wash them again.” I respond shortly.

“Okay… well, let me do it then.” He crosses the space between us going for the sheets but I pull away.

“No. I got them, thanks.” I avoid him by swerving around his thin body and head towards the door.

 “Well, what can I do? I could mop again or… reorganize the fridge? Or…” He trails off, not being able to come up with much else.

“No, Noah. It’s Stella’s turn to mop and who the fuck offers to reorganize a fridge?” I snap at him from the doorway, “You don’t need to be cleaning the house 24/7, okay?”

His eyes falter but he nods “Oh, sorry, I um, I just wanna be doing my part. You know… earn my keep and all that? I just… wanna help.”

My face softens and the tight muscles in my shoulders ease. I feel guilt all over again. 

I sigh. “I’m sorry – I just - I just had a bad week with school and with the shop and,” I pause. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, okay?”

He nods and the edges of his mouth upturn ever so slightly into a tight-lipped smile. “Okay.” He pauses, fidgeting with his fingers. “Sorry about Kassidy. I should’ve asked.” He says quietly while his eyes drop to his anxious hands.

The tips of my fingers curl into the sheets a bit, a stream of… frustration maybe?  shoots through my veins. “It’s okay. I just don’t want my mom to get mad.”

A half lie.

“Right.”

When I turn to leave, he stops me, “Oh – I wanted to ask you something?”

My eyes widen while still turned away from him. A chill rolls up my spine at the realization that we’ve barely spoken since yesterday morning, when his hand was around my cock.

“Um sure, what’s up?” I turn back to him cautiously.

“Well, the fair is in town this weekend, I thought we could go? You know, me, you and Folio?”

I smile at him, relieved it wasn’t about something else. “Sure, sounds fun.”

-Friday Night-

When Folio comes to pick us up, I immediately regret agreeing to carpool. The passenger side door flings open with yet another blonde in the front seat. This one a bit more of a natural, darker blonde and not nearly as bobblehead-like. She looks vaguely familiar, maybe she was one of the wannabe sorority girls from the frat party.

I sigh when I glance over to my busted blue car that’s been acting up every morning since the cold weather’s been getting closer.

The girl smiles wide at us and gets out so we can fold her chair to get to the backseat.

We squeeze our way to the back and naturally, Noah’s mile-long limbs take up most of the room.

The thick distinctive stench of paper-wrapped nicotine coats the cracking plastic of his car doors and the pungent aroma of $10-per-gram weed oozes from the stained beige seats.

Even though Nick brought his ‘friend’, I feel decent about the fair tonight. I mean these are the things we should be doing, right? Going out is what college kids do.

The girl hands back a plastic bottle wrapped in brown paper and Noah hungrily takes it.

“Vodka.” She says simply with a dazed smile.

“Cool.” Noah grins, though I know he’s never tasted pure vodka in his life.

He puts the bottle to his lips and tips it back, immediately scrunching his face in disgust at the taste. If it was just us, I know he would’ve spit it out.

He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, “Not bad.” He lies straight through his teeth.

Noah tips the bottle offering it to me. I shake my head and wave it off, “No, I’m good thanks.”

“Oh, c’mooonn Nick, don’t be a wuss.” Noah whines.

“Yeah Nick, loosen up! Have some fun!” Folio perks up from the driver's seat and watches me in the rearview mirror.

The last time he told me to “loosen up”, he ended up floundering in a lake so it hardly has an enticing ring to it.

“No really.” I reaffirm. “Not for me.”

Noah tsk’s and rolls his eyes, “You’re no fun.”

The words hit me square in the chest and my ribs mold around the letters like playdoh.

You’re no fun.

They’re simple words. Logically, I know they’re mostly a joke. Yet, they burn like a lit match colliding with white paper.

You’re no fun.

We’ve been friends for a long time. Long enough to sit in boring silence scrolling on our phones comfortably for hours. But now I’m no fun because I won’t drink out of a foreign bottle?

The searing in my lungs forces my hand to reach and snatch the bottle from him abruptly. I don’t think, I just do. I take the bottle to my lips and tilt my head back with scrunched-closed eyes. I chug, better he did and better than the girl, until the scorching of my throat gets too much.

I shove the bottle back at him, now an extra quarter empty. His face and every other face in the car seem shocked, eyes wide with slightly dropped jaws.

“What?” I hiss and let out a vodka-singed burp. “You told me to have fun.”

--

Nick’s wheels roll to a halt in the dirt of the fair’s extended parking. The crowded car disperses faster than I anticipated, leaving me alone in the empty car. I stumble out of my seat and precariously steady myself in the dirt to scan the parking lot for the group. The four of them are already ahead of me, nearly halfway to the entrance. Their laughter carries in the wind all the way back over to me. 

Once I catch up, I trail behind them quietly. My hands stuffed in my pockets and my Vans kicking up dry dirt, just trying to focus on walking in a straight line. 

As we approach the ticketing office, my heart plummets to my stomach when I see two familiar girls standing at the gate waiting for us. 

I should’ve known.

“Nicholas, you remember Brooke, right?” Noah grins and gestures to the carbon copy of every other sorority girl on campus.

“Yeah. Hey.”

That’s when I notice the delay in my words and the lag between my fingertips as I wave to her. And as we buy our tickets and make our way into the fair, I catch the warmth all over my skin and the growing numbness in my lips.

I think I’m drunk. Really drunk. 

 --

We make a solid lap around the entire park – picking up random snacks here and there, some fried oreos, a shared funnel cake, slushees, and more I can’t even remember. All the fried food mixed with the couple spin-y rides and the alcohol sloshing in my stomach, I was more than ready for an actual meal. I convinced everyone on hotdogs since it’s the cheapest food here and I’d already spent a good chunk of my tip money on ride tickets and overpriced junk food.

When we reach the window of the hotdog stand we’re met with a familiar face.

“Bryan!” Exclaims Folio, excited to see his fraternity mentor.

As always, Bryan looks about as thrilled as a mother of toddler triplets after a candy bender.

“Trout.” He replies unenthusiastically with his monotone cadence matching the deep sleep-deprived purple beneath his eyes.

Normally I would’ve giggled at Folio’s ridiculous nickname but my body was too focused on sustenance.  

“Two hotdogs and fries please.” I skip past the rest of the indecisive group.

“We’re out of fries.” He replies flatly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He just shrugs, unbothered.

“Fine. Just the hotdogs then.” I huff.

“Coming right up.” He feigns enthusiasm.

The rest of the group place their orders and I can’t help but find amusement in how comical Bryan looks. He’s uniformed in a hotdog themed apron and a silly hotdog visor.

We finally make our way to a painted blue picnic table that sits off to the side away from the busy crowd. I’m grateful for the small respite from the overwhelming, overstimulating chatter.

I fucking hate hotdogs. Usually.

But the minute that meat and bread combo meets my tastebuds, it is as though heaven itself found home in my mouth.

The rest of table fades out as I devour my food and it is only when I’ve finished my 2nd dog that start regaining consciousness. I glance over at the boys who are in the midst of telling some story that’s got all the girls laughing.

My eyes land on Kassidy. She’s giggling at every single thing Noah says and he’s looking at her like she hung the moon. 

No matter how tacky or annoying she is, she’s still objectively beautiful – beautiful in a way I could never be.

The way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, makes me want long blonde hair too. When she bats her fake lashes at him, it makes me wish mine were longer. Her nails adorned with white tips suddenly make my nailbeds feel bare. The foundation caked on her face reminds me of the breakout I have on my cheek and the stubble growing beneath my nostrils. All at once I’m disappointed with every bit of myself that isn’t like her.

A fleeting moment of curiosity passes pondering if this is what it feels like to question your gender. It had never crossed my mind to be anything other than male, nothing else I ever desired. I’ve never felt like I was in the wrong body or anything of the sort – so, I don’t quite think that’s what I’m feeling now.

Maybe I just envy her existence or how confident she is. Maybe I find her attractive? It’d be kinda shitty if I found her attractive, seeing as she’s Noah’s date and I’m here with Brooke. I don’t think it’s that either, since I can barely tolerate either of them.

Perhaps I’m just drunk and confused.

I must just be drunk and confused.

Once the food settles in my tummy, I feel significantly better, a little nauseous still but better nonetheless. My buzz has fizzled, but the tips of my fingers still tingle and words are still hard.

I quietly use a leftover bun to move around a glob of ketchup as entertainment. Noah’s always been the social one, he’s always been the connections, the glue. So, it’s no surprise that he’s captured the attention of the whole table, filling the air with collective drunken giggles. Normally though, he helps nudge me gently into conversations. He helps me not stay silent like I am now. It’s fine though, I don’t have much to contribute since they have all these inside jokes from their study group.

I snap out of my daze when I hear Folio crunch a coke can in his hand as he gets up from the table. There’s an emptiness beside me I hadn’t felt til now – Brooke is gone.

My gaze follows the group as they get up from the table to bring their trash to the overflowing garbage can.

“Where did Brooke go?” I ask to the general conglomerate, most of which pay no mind to me.

“She left to go meet up with some other friends.” Noah replies, his tone suggests that he’s downplaying the situation. I’m sure she wasn’t having fun with a half-drunk silent boy.

‘You’re no fun’ rings in my head from earlier in the car.

2 things I’ve learned from tonight are:

1 – eat hotdogs when drunk.

2 – pretending to be “fun” is really fucking exhausting.

“Oh.” I say quietly, matching their actions by tossing my flimsy paper plate and Dr. Pepper can into the trash.

“We’re heading towards the bigger rides, if you want to come.” He turns and follows the rest of the group through some carnival game tents.

‘If you want to’ I mimic him in my head.

No I don’t fucking want to but I was driven here and I’m stranded.

“Yeah.” I mumble and quickly jog to meet them ahead of me.

--

The others made their way to the short ferris wheel line after I insisted it was okay to leave me behind. I sure as fuck didn’t want to sit in a pod alone or 3rd wheel on one of their’s.

I watch Noah and Kassidy’s pod reach and stop at the peak of the small ferris wheel, I don’t know why I’m watching but my body is rooted where I stand. Upon it’s a slow descent down, I see it.

His hand cupping her face. Their lips locked.

It’s not a decision I make until their pod locks at the gate and they’re being let out. My foot swivels in the dirt, kicking up dying grass as I try to dip around various family-owned booths for cover. As feared, I hear him calling from behind. I knew I had messed up by making a run for it so late.

“Nicholas!”

His calling only makes my legs move faster – I’m not sure exactly why I’m running or what good it’ll do, just that I need to get as far away from him as possible.

He catches up to me faster than I was prepared for. Fall leaves crunch beneath his worn-out Converse. “Where are you going?” He asks and before I even turn around to see him, I know the look on his face. The same look that I can’t seem to ever say no to – the one that breaks my back just to make me bend to him.

I sigh and turn to him. “Noah, I’m going home.”

“What! Why?”

And there it was. Big, round, puppy dog eyes full of decadent chocolate so sweet it could rot the teeth right out of your skull - paired with pouted lips that demand pity and restitution.

“I’m not having fun. I don’t want to be here.”

“What? You told me you wanted to go to the fair?” He questions with curved eyebrows.

“No. I didn’t. You invited me. You told me that I wanted to go. You tricked me into being on a triple date I didn’t want to be on.” My arm gesturing towards the fair.

“Well, c’mon we can still make it fun! We can just get some more ride tickets and-” He grabs the sleeve of my flannel and tugs at it towards the fair.

I yank my arm back so hard it nearly pulls him back with it, “No you’re not listening to me Noah. I don’t want to be here. Why do you continue to bring me places that you KNOW I won’t like?”

“We’ve been to the fair a million times, Nick.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah! With just us! Not with three random fucking girls!” The churning in my chest begins to spit drunken thoughts out without filters.

His brows knit together in confusion. “They’re not random girls Nicholas, and I really thought you’d hit it off with Brooke-”

“Oh my god, why the fuck would you think I’d get along with her? Just because she’s got tits and ass? Sorry, I’m not you, I need a little more than that.” I scoff.

“Well, I-I don’t know just thought you’d want-”

“Augh!” I groan and pace a tiny lap around the grass. “Can you stop assuming you know what I do or don’t want?”

“So, let me get this straight. You don’t want to go to parties, or the fair, or hang out with girls… normal college stuff, you don’t want?”

My heart pounds hard against my eardrums and my fingers burn with frustration. My fists tighten at my sides and my jaw clenches, digging each row of teeth into the other. Molten lava threatens to spill from my throat.

“No, Noah. I guess I don’t want ‘normal college stuff’, I don’t fucking like alcohol and I don’t even know if I like girls!”

My yelled words tumbled from my mouth so easily I didn’t even realize I said anything that odd until Noah’s eyes widen.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

“What?” Noah asks softly and genuinely with his head tilted slightly.

“I-I,” I stumble back, accidentally hitting an oak tree behind me. “I’m- I just need to go home.”

“Nick.” His hands stretch out to grab my arm as I turn to leave but he’s a millisecond too late. “Nick!” He calls after me.

Every bit of adrenaline available in my body propels me forward, past all the booths, all the rides, and through all the neighboring forest. When my feet finally find asphalt, my head feels like a basketball on a player’s fingertip. My eyes widen at a sharp turn in my stomach. I analyze my surroundings in a split second, running towards a lamp post for support. The moment my palm touches the cold metal, I double over and empty the contents of my stomach onto the concrete. The funnel cake, the cotton candy, the fried Oreos, the slushees, and the goddamn fucking hotdogs all found home the sidewalk.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

Why would I say that?

Is that true?

Do I not like girls?

Of course, I like girls.

I wobble over to a bench and sit on the cool wood. The weather’s a lot colder now that the sun has set, and I regret not bringing a proper jacket.

I like girls. I know I like girls. Right?

I mean, I’ve been jerking off to girls… this whole time? So, if I didn’t like girls, why would I do that?

I like girls.

Only.

I like girls.

Right?

I shake my head of the thoughts spinning faster than I can even grasp.

The dim light of the street lamp flickers and it occurs to me that it’s almost 10 pm and I have no idea where I am or how to get home.

Fuck.

Pulling my location up in my Maps app tells me that I’m still fairly close to the fair, which unfortunately means I’m pretty far from home. Tears begin prickling in my eyes and a tight knot forms in my throat.

The weight of the night crashes down onto me all at once.

The “you’re no fun”

The fucking hot dogs

The “she went to meet other friends”

The “if you want to”

The ferris wheel

The “I don’t even know if I like girls”

“Fuck.” My voice cracks as tears take hostage of my cheeks.

My body doubles over, folding in on itself to bury my face in my hands.

I’m drunk, I had a shit night, I left my best friends at the fair and now I’m stranded on some random street.

Even through my own heaving, a brief pang of guilt shoots in my stomach for leaving Noah behind.

He wanted to have a good night, perhaps I ruined it. 

In the past, I would’ve stayed feeling guilty because I knew for a fact that if the roles were reversed, he’d come back to find me. But now, I’m not so sure. I don’t think he’d leave Kassidy for anyone or anything.

Not even me.

My palms try to stave off the tears by digging into my eye sockets.

“Fuck, okay. I need to get it together.” I say out loud to myself, letting out a deep exhale. “What the fuck am I gonna do.”

Both of my only friends are still at the fair.

Mom is at work.

So that leaves me with…

Stella.

“Shit.”

I unwillingly pull myself from the bench and begin to pace back and forth taking fast but deep breaths. I ring out my hands out, trying to expel any sort of panic from them. The last thing I need is for her to see me like this.

Finally, once I’ve composed myself, I dig my phone out of my pocket and click her contact name “Snot”.

It rings for a little bit too long and I almost hang up just before she answers.

“Hello?” She asks a little louder than necessary, shortly after I hear a flood of giggles in the background. Her sleepover.

“Hey.” I barely get out without my voice cracking.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asks with concern lacing her voice. There’s the sound of a door closing behind her, shutting out the chatter.

“Oh um-“ My tone pitched up and I feel tears welling up in my eyes again. If the rest of tonight’s events weren’t enough, here I am making a fool out of myself to my little sister. “I forgot about your sleepover. It's fine – I’ll just walk home or something.”

“Walk home? Where are you?”

I swallow the knot in my throat trying to keep my voice level, normal and calm but my pause is long and loud.

“I-I,” My eyes squeeze shut pushing as much of my tears out. “I don’t know.”

“Did you drink?”

The back of my hand roughly wipes my nose. “Yes.”

“Are you with Noah?” Her voice is gentle and kind and reminds me of how our mother would talk to us when we scraped our knees.

I sniffle and my voice threatens to break once more. “No.”

“Okay.” She states as if she just got handed a checklist of effortless tasks. “The girls were just about to go home.” I know that’s a lie. “Drop me a pin and I’ll come get you.”

“Thanks Stell.” I reply quietly.

“Of course.”

--

It took about 20 minutes for Stella to pick me up in my own car.

My arms wrap around my shivering body and my head rests on the window as I watch the streetlights zoom past us. Her speed is inconsistent, fast in short bursts then slow in long drags. Her stops are jerky and her turns wide. If this was an early Tuesday school morning, she wouldn’t be able to stop my mouth from rambling off critiques. But tonight, opening my mouth seems more dangerous than her driving.

“So. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” She cuts through the silence unapologetically, like opening a crisp can of Coke in a dead, silent room.

I shake my head.

“C’mon. You can’t really expect me to pick you up in the middle of nowhere at midnight without any context?” She patters her fingertips on the steering wheel and glances over at me. “Did something happen with Noah? Did you get into a fight?”

“Something like that.” I mutter.

She squints her eyes and kind of tilts her head to the side. “You guys never fight?”

“Well.” I reply bluntly. “Things change, I guess.” The fabric of the seat cover stretches as I shift. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

The gears spin in her head, I can almost see them. “Weird.” She mumbles under her breath. “Was it about a girl?”

“I said I’m done answering questions.”

“Sheesh, okay.” She says defensively.

Silence fills every empty space in the car. I’m not sure I’ve ever been uncomfortable around my sister before, but I certainly am now. It’s a new feeling, something I want to run and hide from. My knee bounces nervously as my mind cycles through everything that happened tonight. Regardless of anxiety and confusion twisting my organs into pretzels, I fear that if I don’t say what’s chanting in my head right now, I could explode.

“I told Noah that I don’t even know if I like girls.” I blurt out with extreme urgency, as if I didn’t get it out now, I never would.

Her eyes widen a bit but they stay focused on the road. My heart thumps hard against my chest threatening to jump right out.

“Okay.” She says calmly but cautiously. “And why did you say that?”

“I-I don’t know.” I let the weight of my body finally relax and sink into the seat. “You’ve known me my whole life. Do you think that I… might not only like girls?”

She turns to me at a red light and the face she gives me reminds me of when she was 4 and I was 7, when I speculated that Santa might not be real. Without a second thought she replied, “Of course he’s not real, silly.”

Even at 4 years old she was smarter than me.

“I think that might be a question you have to figure out yourself, Nick. I can’t tell you what you do or don’t like.”

I huff, suddenly frustrated that I couldn’t hand off such a complex task onto someone else – that I couldn’t have someone else give me a quick, solid, factual answer.

“I guess you’re right.” I mumble. 

She returns her focus to the road and lets out a little sigh. “Do you remember when we were little? And we liked Power Rangers?”

“…Yeah?” I reply confused as to what exactly Power Rangers has to do with my sexuality.

“Well, I remember the first time we watched it - and you thought it was so stupid.”

“No I didn’t? I loved Power Rangers?” 

“No.” She corrects me. “At first, when it was just us, you thought it was dumb. But then all your friends started liking it and suddenly you did too. You even wanted to be the red one for the group costume that Halloween, remember?”

“Okay… and? What are you getting at?”

“I can’t tell you what you are or aren’t, Nick. But you’re right - I have known you my whole life. And I know that sometimes you change things about yourself to, I don’t know… not make waves? Not stand out? To fit in? I don’t know your reasoning and I don’t know if that’s what you did with this. But… just something to think about I guess?”

My fingers tap at my knee in thought. I don’t really remember that specific component, only that I had Power Ranger shirts and bedsheets. I remember playing with the figures on the playground with friends and running around the neighborhood with them on Halloween as the Red Ranger. If I was having fun, does it really matter if I didn’t actually like Power Rangers? 

“Yeah… I guess it’s something to think about.” I let out a deep sigh. “How’d you get so smart anyway?”

She shoots me a smile, “I learned from the best.”

“Nope, definitely not me. That was all Mom.”

“Who did you think I meant?” She smirks.

“Ha-ha so funny.” I roll my eyes with a toothy grin, finally feeling the tiniest sliver of ease enter my body.

The relaxation slipped from me as quickly as it arrived. “Please don’t um, tell her…or anyone that we talked about this – especially Noah.”

“You got it. I would never.”

I somehow feel relieved yet terrified of what I’ve just divulged to her.

“Do you wanna get donuts from that 24-hour place? And maybe some water for your inevitable hangover?”

“God yes please.” My thumbs rub circles into my throbbing temples. “And a burger please, jesus I need a burger. And fries, I need fries more than air right now.”

“Fiiine, McDonalds too, I guess.”

“Thanks, Stell.” I say soft and genuine.

“Of course, Nick.”

I smile kindly at her. Tomorrow I’ll probably regret everything I said and did tonight but right now, I’m getting junk food with my sister at midnight and the world is quiet. Everything feels okay, even if it only lasts until the end of my Mcdonald’s.

I wave Stella goodnight as she walks into her room. With a twist of my doorknob, I open my door and my feet halt in their tracks. My swollen eyes widen at the last thing I expected to be in my room.

“What are you doing here?” I question before I can even really gauge my own reaction.

Noah sits on the edge of the bed still in the same outfit from the fair.

“I went looking for you.” His brown eyes find mine and it makes my chest ache the same way it did earlier on the bench.

“You did?” My square shoulders soften briefly before straightening back up again. “And why would you do that?” I snap at him.

The space between his brows burrows slightly, seemingly confused by my harsh response. “Well, I-I,” He presses his lips together while his fingers pick at his nails. “I was worried about you.”

My eyes dart down to the carpet and try to ignore the way my heart swells at his words. I swallow hard and curl my fists at my sides. “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Oh okay…” He trails off and lets his gaze drop to his fiddling hands and bouncy leg. “I just wanted to make sure, I guess.”

“Okay well, you’ve made sure. Now I really just wanna go to bed, if that’s okay with you.” I cross all of the two feet from the doorway to my dresser and forcefully yank the top drawer open.

He carefully lifts from the bed and meets me where I dig for clothes. “Nicholas.” His voice is gentle and full of concern, but no matter how much it should comfort me it just fans the flames of my resentment.

“What now, Noah.” I sigh harshly and turn to him.

“What did you mean at the fair?”

After the food adventures I had with Stella, it had almost erased what I had said from my memory. Too bad it couldn’t have done that to him too. I was really banking on him being too drunk to even remember. But I should know better than that – Noah and his very selective memory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feign confidence and turn back away from him to focus on finding PJs. My chest and limbs fill with a feeling similar to sitting in the waiting room of a principal’s office. Suddenly, I’m small and the room triples in size while the oxygen rapidly depletes.

“You know what I’m talking about Nick.” His fingers gently grab my arm to turn my attention to him again. “Do you… not like girls? Do you think you’re-”

“Gah! No!” I all but spit out. The thought of what he was about to say makes me want to vomit all over again. “No, I’m not…that.”

“O-oh, okay…but if you were, you know you could tell me, right? You know you can tell me anything, like we’ve always done.” His voice is quiet and tender, even through the vodka I can still smell on his breath.

“Oh my god Noah.” I grasp at the air in frustration. “No. I just said it to, to throw you off. So you’d let me go, so you’d leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh.” His hand slips from my arm and he takes a step away from me.

If this was any other night, after any other event, I would apologize, minimize it, and say that I’m just having a bad night. But it’s not any other night and I don’t have enough energy in my entire body to make more excuses.

My fingers dig into the bundle of PJs I hold, and my stare stays straight on his chest. “I just, want to take a shower and go to bed. Okay?”

“Right.” He sucks his teeth and nods. “Okay, enjoy your shower then.”

“I will, thanks.” I reply blandly, shoving the overflowing drawer closed.

-

The world seems much lighter now that the thick layer of carnival muck, the remnants of alcohol and vomit were washed down the drain. I scrunch my hair with a terry cloth towel while I walk to my room from the shower.

I’m confused to find my door cracked open with the big light still shining through the door. I spent almost an hour trying to get all the grime off and let the water ease the pulsing in my head. Surely, Noah wouldn’t still be up, it’s almost 3 am.

I quietly creak the door open to find the bed empty.

“Huh?” I whisper to myself and make my way over to the disheveled bed. Noah’s nowhere to be found, but instead there’s a plushy on his pillow. I hook my finger through the plastic carabiner attached to it and lift it to my eyeline. It’s a stuffed tuxedo cat with sunglasses that look similar to the knockoff RayBans I usually wear.

I look back at the pillow and notice there was a note beneath it. I pick it up and unfold it with the cat dangling on my pinky. 

‘Saw this at the fair and thought of you. 

Went to stay over at Kassidy’s so, you can have your room back for the night.

-N’

The breath that escapes from deep in my torso seems to deflate me completely. I knew the slip of up of my words the other day hurt him, more than I thought. A vine of thorns wraps around my throat, each guilt-drenched spike digs into my windpipe. He left because of me.

I take a precarious seat on the edge of the bed, holding each item in each hand. My palm aches to crush the note in my fingers but my eyes burn with salty tears too. All while the cat swells my chest in the saddest way possible. How could someone feel so many things at once? 

I have no screams, no yells, no sobs left in me and my body begs for rest. I can’t let myself wallow in whatever this is, how could I make sense of it now? When my brain is so hazy and my eyes are so sleepy. 

I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tiny bit of tears left in my eyes and set the note and the stuffed kitty on my bedside table. The bed creaks when I bury my knee into the mattress and let myself fall to the middle. 

The bed feels colder and emptier without him in it, but right now I’m not sure this is where I want him to be. 

I reach up to tug the lamp light off and pull the duvet around my shivering body. 

After about 20 mins of stirring with no hope of falling asleep, I give in and just stare into the stillness of the room. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness and start making a sort of mental inventory list counting all of the items scattered around my room that aren’t mine. I try to remember what the room looked like before he moved in, but I can’t.

While there are growing pains, I can’t imagine my room without him in it anymore. He’s tangled himself into the very essence of the space. 

Drawing my gaze across the room, I land on the kitty he’d gotten for me at the fair. I reach across the space and bring it to the bed, placing it in his spot. 

It fills a tiny void in the vast emptiness of the bed and for about 15 minutes I cling to the minor comfort it brings, believing it might help me fall asleep. 

I let out a frustrated sigh. The heaviness of the night drops onto my shoulder blades and finds refuge beneath my eyes. Once again a venomous coil tightens itself around my ribs.

It is mostly confusion that I feel, the only factor I can distinctly pick out. 

The only other one I can somewhat recognize is, loneliness. 

I glance back over to the cat and it dawns on me the possible reason I can't fall asleep. My fingertips tap rhythmically against the mattress cycling through my options until I find one. 

I wrap my thick duvet around my body and grab my pillow before shuffling down the hall. I gently tap my knuckle against her door then crack it open just a bit.

“Stella.” I whisper-yell into her room. “Stella.”

She shifts in her bed and cracks one eye open at me. “Hm?” She groans sleepily.

I let myself in and scuffle across the carpet to her bedside. “Can I sleep on your floor?” I request in a hush. 

“What? Why?” Her brows knit together with her eyes barely open. “What’s wrong with your bed?”

I chew on my bottom lip searching my brain for an answer that makes any sense but there’s only one. 

“It’s empty.” 

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @concretenoah @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

[pepsiboyy]

starboy part 3

P1 P2 P3

pairing: y/n x chris sturniolo

summary: y/n, born and raised in los angeles, moves across the country to boston. when she feels like she has nobody, she makes some new friends at her new job. she grows particularly close with the sturniolo triplets, where she finds a lot in common with one of them.

warnings: some fluff and some angst :c and possibly cursing?

lowercase intentional!!!

author's note: HELLOWWW i hope this is good i have a lot of ideas for this series but i am having a moment where i have so many ideas that i dont know what to do RHSGHAHAH anyway enjoy

i stared at myself in the mirror with a soft hum as i brushed my teeth, dancing subtly as i blasted music into my earbuds.

i spit out the toothpaste and hummed to the music before immediately shuttering at the sound of my phone vibrating beside me. the smile that spread across my face was indescribable as i read his name.

from: chris⭐ heyy, matt and i are gonna watch a movie together while nick is at work and i figured i'd invite you from: chris⭐ wanna tag along?

i smiled softly and typed away, slowly making my way to my closet as my eyes didn't leave the screen.

from: me i'd love to, what time?

i reached into my closet and grabbed a white long sleeve that fit me a little more snug, then pulled a baggy navy blue shirt over it. i slipped on some baggy ripped jeans and a belt, before whining as i messed with my hair in the mirror. bad hair day, i thought to myself. i sighed and grabbed a black beanie, slipping it onto my head and looking at myself.

bzzt.

i turned and gripped my phone.

from: chris⭐ probably within the next like 15 min, be ready

i smiled and reacted to his message with a thumbs up, making my way down the stairs.

-

my parents turned to me as i entered the kitchen. "hey," i breathed, opening the fridge to get a drink. they looked at me with a look of confusion.

"where you headed?" my mom questioned, and i shrugged. "my coworkers invited me over to watch a movie.." i grabbed a bottle of water before shutting the fridge and sitting at the table to slip on my socks and shoes, deciding to wear air forces today.

"what coworkers?" my dad asked, turning to me and i swallowed. "umm... matt and chris... there's nick too, but he works the first half of the day. they're triplets." i chuckled. my dad raised his eyebrows. "yeah, i had the same reaction." i replied, smiling softly at the thought of the three and how helpful they had been to me with the move and adjusting to the new job.

"what time will you be home?" my mom questioned, and i shrugged. "are they picking you up?"

i nodded and smiled, stretching. "yeah, matt is picking me up. and im assuming chris will be with him." i mumbled, humming softly as i checked my phone.

i heard a few honks outside before i smiled at my parents. "sounds like they're here!" i began walking out of the room. "bye, love you both!" i shouted, and my mom seemed to follow me to the door.

"keep me posted," she whispered, and i smiled as i lightly hit her arm.

"i will," i replied and gave her a soft side hug before heading out the door.

with a few steps to the car, i felt a wave of happiness rush over me. "thanks for picking me up," i mumbled as soon as i slid open the back door, smiling to myself and shutting it behind me.

"anytime," matt replied, turning to me to make sure i was buckled before he faced the front and began driving. "how was your morning?"

"did you sleep well?" chris quickly asked after matt, turning at me and smiling softly.

i smiled softly back and shrugged. "in all honesty, i woke up and then got your text, so it was okay! looking forward to today," i started, "and i slept really well. i actually feel very well rested today." i finished and smiled, looking out the window to look around. a thought came to my mind as i smiled at the two. "how did fortnite go?" i asked, resulting in matt and chris both looking at each other with a knowing glance.

"we did alright," matt started, but chris quickly interrupted him. "no, actually, if matt knew how to play the game we would have done better." he spat, resulting in matt giving him a shocked gasp. "are you kidding? i got more elims than you could even could on your hands," he responded.

i listened mindlessly to their banter as i watched matt pull into the driveway of where i assumed was their home.

chris unbuckled and got up, moving to quickly get out and open the door for me. i furrowed my eyebrows and smiled softly at him. "thanks," i breathed and followed chris to their front door.

"mom, we brought home a friend," matt stated a bit louder as we walked through the door. who i assumed was their mother, stepped out from the kitchen and smiled warmly at me.

"hi, y/n is it?" she asked and carefully set her hands on the sides of my arms. she smiled brightly, and i smiled softly back.

she seemed super sweet, like an amazing mom to the triplets.

"yeah, y/n," i mumbled back and smiled. "so great to meet you, thanks for having me and stuff," i chuckled and her smile only seemed to widen if possible.

"oh, don't worry about it, sweetheart. you're welcome always. i'm mary-lou, their mom." she stated, motioning her head to the two boys behind us. i smiled softly and nodded before chris and matt lead me to their room where they typically hung out.

i looked around and smiled warmly at the posters on the wall of things they liked, the cleanliness of the room, and the things that piqued my interest just as much as theirs.

"i made chris rid of all the soda cans sitting around, so it would be clean for you," matt mumbled to himself, which rewarded him a smack in the arm from chris.

"hey, some of them were yours too. and you didn't have to mention the mess," he seemed to lower his voice in the last part, glancing at me.

"don't worry. before i moved, i was kind of the same way," i replied and smiled. i stood awkwardly at the doorway, unsure if i should sit or where to sit.

chris gently pat beside him. "here, wanna sit?" he offered, and i nodded softly. i carefully sat beside him on the couch in the room, a comfortable distance from him. matt was setting up the tv before he moved to sit beside chris.

"what do you wanna watch, y/n?" he asked, and i sat in thought.

"ugh, i don't know," i mumbled and stared at their wall in thought. my mind wandered. "i really like comedies, some action movies and sometimes horror or sci-fi," i mumbled, looking between the two.

"okay," matt began, "i asked for a movie, not every genre," he joked, and i scoffed. "at least you aren't picky." he mumbled and leaned back, going through movies.

i watched mindlessly as he scrolled through a bunch of movies, but one in particular made me jump to my seat.

"mean girls?"

they both turned to me, and i felt my face grow hot.

"sorry, i know it's cliche, but it's a good movie.. and a classic," i started to defend myself, and they both shrugged.

"nick talks about it a lot, but i'm not sure matt and i have actually seen it," chris replied as he moved an arm to rest on the back of the couch in my direction.

"mean girls it is." matt stated and put on the movie. he leaned back after adjusting the volume, a content smile on his face as he kept his space and even kicked his feet up on the couch.

chris glanced at me and smiled softly, before looking around and back at me. "do you want a blanket or anything?" he questioned, and i blinked a few times before shrugging.

"i mean, if you're offering-" i replied with a soft giggle.

he just watched before smiling warmly. "i'll grab it for you," he mumbled as he sat up and went to grab a blanket that was nicely folded in his room.

i watched as he left, looking at matt and shooting him a soft smile before focusing on the movie.

chris came back a few moments later with a blanket and unfolded it, carefully draping it over me. i blushed softly and smiled at him as he sat back down beside me. "thanks," i breathed, and he nodded softly.

i felt warm. not because of the blanket, but more because of the feeling of chris being so close beside me. i knew i liked him, i had established that. i was just nervous. i leaned back into the couch, my head accidentally touching his arm that was resting on the back. i glanced at him and mouthed a quick apology to him, before turning back to the tv.

god, anyone would have to be out of their mind if they thought i knew what was going on in this movie right now. i had seen it a million times, yet for some reason every word felt so unfamiliar and it was probably because this blanket was drowning me in chris's scent. i blinked a few times before i slouched against the couch, trying to focus more on the movie to avoid any awkward interactions.

-

the movie was almost over, almost at the fun and dramatic ending when matt got a call on the phone.

"hello? oh, yeah we're upstairs. oh sick... sounds about right. yeah, i'll be right there. bye," matt pulled his phone from his ear as he stood up and smiled at chris and i. "i'm gonna go help nick with groceries. nick said he called you like seven times, but you're hopeless." matt smirked as he stood up. "i'll be back in a bit, pause it?" matt asked, and i smiled at him.

"of course, it only gets better.." i mumbled and paused the movie, leaning back.

chris scoffed as he whipped out his phone, looking to check his missed calls. matt had left the room at this point. i glanced at chris's phone screen to see if there were as many missed calls as matt had mentioned, but i almost felt like i was intruding by doing so.

chris seemed to notice this though, and smiled as he scoot over. he carefully wrapped an arm around me and motioned his phone towards me, indicating it was okay to look.

i blushed deeply as i stared at chris, blinking a few times.

"is this okay?" he asked softly, his voice a bit raspy now from focusing on the movie for so long.

i quickly nodded and smiled shyly, leaning into his embrace. i looked at his phone as he pulled up tiktok, scrolling through a few of them.

chris carefully leaned his head against the top of mine, and i kept my focus on his for you page, which resulted in a few laughs from both of us.

should i do it? should i speak up and tell him how i feel? and maybe get somewhere? i mean, he wouldn't hug me like this for no reason right? my mind wandered. i took in a breath and opened my mouth to speak, but his phone dinged. and i turned to it, assuming it would be his brothers texting him.

maeve Heyy Chris❤️

maeve You work tmrw?

my heart sank. i blinked a few times as i watched chris almost immediately swipe away both notifications. i visibly tensed before shooting up after a few moments, standing up and looking directly at chris, who now looked puzzled. "where's your bathroom?" i mumbled at lightning speed, and he blinked as he also stood up.

"it's.. it's right down the hall, first door on the left," he started, but gently took my arm. "are you okay?" he asked, and i smiled and nodded quickly before stepping back.

"yup, just reaally have to pee!" i mumbled again, spinning on my heel and heading towards the bathroom where i closed the door and locked it behind me.

deep breaths, y/n.

it's really probably no big deal right? right.

i couldn't believe that for a second, unfortunately. chris is incredibly attractive, and maeve is a pretty blonde. i would have been stupid to think she wouldn't go after him. and what reason does he have not to go after her?

i let out a breathy sigh as i stared at myself in their mirror. why did i feel like crying? i just met this guy. but we had so much in common and such a connection because of it. i bit my lip. this sucked. a lot. but i guess it was too good to be true. i carefully moved towards the door and opened it.

matt was standing in the room with nick and chris, where all three of them now turned to you with a slight look of confusion.

"hey, y/n," nick smiled and waved, and i bit my lip and waved back.

"you okay?" matt asked, and i quickly nodded.

"yeah, i um. need to go home. now." i breathed and bit my lip. "don't worry, my mom is... getting me," i lied, and smiled softly at them as i waved and quickly left.

on my way out, i saw mary-lou and smiled softly, waving. "i'm leaving, but thank you so much for having me," i breathed, and she seemed a bit confused at my hurriedness, but nodded and waved nonetheless.

"it was great meeting you, y/n. have a great night, come again soon!" she smiled, and i felt almost hurt.

i went outside and bit my lip as i sent my location to my mother, sitting against the curb. i pulled my hood over my head and wrapped my arms around my knees, fighting the urge to cry.

this was stupid. i should have known.

the hot guy would be with the hot girl, and the new girl who moved into town would be the new girl. that was all.

after some time of music blasting in my ears, which this time was some hotel ugly, i heard tires roll up against the asphalt. i quickly opened the door and sat in the car before my mom started driving.

"what happened?" she questioned, moving to set a hand on my shoulder, but i shrugged it off.

"i don't.. really want to talk about it right now," i breathed. i looked down at my phone, where i had a few texts now from chris. my heart ached.

from: chris⭐ hey, i hope everything is ok

from: chris⭐ i had a really great time, thx 4 comin

i bit my lip and turned my phone over, leaving him on opened.

and to think i had to face him tomorrow at work.

hi guys, let me know what you think of this !!! <33

taglist;; @mysterioussmae :) thanks for being the first !!

[jeysmullet]

「 ✦ jeysmullet ✦ 」 presents

chapter 2.

Joshua Fatu.

I woke up to the sound of knocking on a door. I went to sit up before feeling the weight of somebody on my arm, i looked beside me seeing Janae still fast asleep. I slowly moved her off of my arm before getting up and walking to the door.

I unlocked it then twisted the handle to allow the door to open. I saw Jon standing there with his hands squeezed into his pockets.

“Wassup,” I spoke before stepping out , not wanting to wake Janae.

“Wassup, Trin wanted me to come tell y’all, that we already ate breakfast. She wanted to know if y’all could ride home together?”

I look back into the room towards Janae before nodding.

“Yeah, i’m sure she’s gonna be fine with it, i’ll ask though.”

“Ight but Josh, you know you not fooling anybody.”

“What you mean?” I chuckled.

“Me and Trin asked Hunter for y’all’s storyline. We knew you were too much of a pussy to do something yourself. We didn’t think he was actually gon do it though. We were shocked when he called us this morning and told us.” Jon spoke while slightly laughing.

“What? Man, y’all crazy.”

“Maybe, but i know you Josh. I know how you look at somebody when you like them. I also see how tense you get when Ya’Mari is around.”

I huffed before rolling my eyes at the mere mention of Janae’s longtime boyfriend.

“My point exactly.” Jon said before holding his hand out to dap me up.

I smacked my hand against Jon’s before speaking once more.

“Bye Jon.”

I watched as Jon walked away before going back into the room and shutting the door.

I walked over to Janae before placing my hand on her shoulder , shaking her slightly.

I saw her eyes flutter before fully opening, looking at me.

“Trinity and Jon already had breakfast, so we gon have breakfast together before we leave.” I spoke as i made sure everything was together in our suitcases.

I saw her in the corner of my eye as she stretched her arms out before standing up.

I let my eyes wander down her body before snapping back to reality.

“I’m gonna freshen up right quick,” Janae spoke softly before grabbing the clothes she had set out before walking to the bathroom, closing the door.

Janae Mccray.

I walked into the bathroom, shutting the door, before placing my clothes down. I turned on the sink, placing my cupped hands under the water before bringing my face down and splashing the water onto myself.

I turned the sink off before blindly grabbing a towel, drying my face off. I grabbed my toothbrush out of my toiletry bag, running it under water before placing a thick line of toothpaste on it. I brought the toothbrush to my mouth, brushing my teeth mindlessly.

After 5 minutes, i spit the excess minty paste out of my mouth, before also brushing my tongue, spitting that out as well.

I placed my hands under the faucet once more before bringing the water in my hands towards my mouth. I swished it around for a minute, spitting it out when i felt like I was good.

I wiped around my mouth, placing the towel down, before stripping from my night clothes.

I grabbed the leggings i had brought with me, stepping into them, before grabbing the hoodie and bringing it over my head, placing it on myself. I grabbed my dirty clothes before walking over to the door opening it.

I saw Josh sitting on the bed while tapping away on his phone. I grabbed the bag that i placed my dirty clothes in and placed my other pair of dirty clothes in there.

I grabbed my black and grey jordan 4’s and a pair of socks before sitting on the bed.

i placed my socks on and then slipped in my shoes.

“You ready?” I heard Josh speak up.

“Yeah,” i spoke while standing up from the couch.

Josh grabbed the two suitcases, leaving me with a book bag and my purse.

「 ✦ timeskip ✦ 」

“oh my goddd, i’m so full,” i spoke while laughing.

“I mean you ate four pancakes and 2 smoothies,” Josh laughed.

“Shhh, we don’t speak of that. My trainer will kill me.” I groaned knowing i’m going to have to train extra after breakfast.

“I won’t tell your trainer, if you don’t tell mine,” Josh brought his pinky up.

I giggled before wrapping my pinky around his.

We finally made our way back to the car. I sat in the passengers seat as Josh climbed into the drivers seat.

“You wanna be on aux?” Josh asked me holding the cord.

I nodded grabbing the cord before placing the end into my phone. I swiped onto my music app, turning on one of my playlists. A few seconds passed before the beginning beat of, Lovers and Friends by Usher, started playing.

Me and Josh laughed before we both started singing the song off key.

This continues for multiple songs before one of them was interrupted by my phone ringing.

I stopped singing and looked down seeing my boyfriend’s contact pop up.

“Sorry,” I told Josh before answering the call, still on aux. I might’ve been tweaking but i swear Josh looked upset just now. I ignored it turning my attention back to my phone.

“Wassup Mari,” I smiled while talking to my boyfriend.

“Don’t act all happy now,” I heard Ya’Mari mumble.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about twitter blowing up with pictures of you with some dude. Is you cheating on me, Janae?”

“What no, that’s Josh. You know Josh,” I softly told him, trying to not escalate the situation.

“I don’t give a fuck if i know him. You making me look fucking stupid.” Ya’Mari raised his voice.

I felt Josh’s eyes burning into the side of my head as we sat at a red light.

“How am i making you look stupid, Ya’Mari? Josh is my sisters brother-in-law. I’ve known him for years.” I said slightly upset.

I felt the car start moving again as the light turned green.

“Why are even alone with him.”

“Because Jon and Trin already left, so we have to ride home together.”

“Nah, you just wanna be a whore.”

I felt myself go forward in my seat as Josh slams on the break.

“Sorry.” Josh mumbles as he slowly starts driving again.

His face had gotten red as hell. Almost like he was mad.

“Ya’Mari, why is you calling me out my name?” My frustration evident.

“Because Janae, you tryna act all innocent but you over here hanging out with a dude by yourself. Shit y’all probably done fucked by now. You know you easy.”

I felt my eyes well up with tears and my throat starting to burn as i try to hold them from falling down.

“Hang up Janae.” Josh spoke firmly from beside me as he pulled into an empty parking lot.

I sat still as i tried to process what Ya’Mari just said.

Josh leaned over and grabbed my phone before ending the call. He placed my phone in the cup holder before pulling me over to him, wrapping his arms around me.

I let the tears fall as i sat in Josh’s arms.

“You don’t need that, Nae. You need to leave him.”

“Bu-“

“No buts, you deserve better than that.”

i just cried more as i thought about what Josh said.

“Hey hey hey, calm down Janae. You need to calm down.” Josh stroked my hair as he hugged me tighter.

I took deep breathes as i tried to focus on something else. The first thing i noticed was Josh’s heartbeat and his breathing.

I listened to his breathing and tried to match it. I did that for 5 minutes and eventually calmed down.

“Here take a nap until we get there.” Josh said as he slowly let me go.

I wiped my eyes as i laid back into the seat, before closing my eyes.

「 ✦ timeskip ✦ 」

Joshua Fatu.

I pulled into the driveway of Janae’s house. I sighed knowing i’m gonna have to wake her up.

I reached beside me and slowly shook her awake.

“Nae, we’re here.”

Her eyes fluttered open before she stretched. We both unbuckled our seatbelts before opening the doors of the car.

I walked to the trunk, opening it, grabbing her bags. I walked up to where she was standing and waited on her to open the door. She unlocked the door and walked in before holding the door open for me.

“You can just leave em downstairs. I’ll take em up later.” She told me before plopping down on the couch.

I stood there for a minute.

“Well uhm, i’ll see you later Nae. Call me if you get upset again.”

I was reaching for the door before she called my name.

“Uhm Josh, can you actually stay?”

I looked at her somewhat shocked.

“uh yeah, of course. if that’s what you want.”

I walked over to the couch sitting down beside her. I fell as she placed her head on my lap.

“Thank you.” She sleepily spoke before falling back asleep.

I smiled down at her.

“You’re welcome.”

「 ✦ the end ✦ 」

SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG.

tags: @secret89sblog @trashbin-nie @ethicbratt @blacst4r @bebesobrielo @wrestlingprincess80 @solefae @reci1996 @paigereeder @yana3sworld @nbanenefrmdao

if your name is in bold , it wouldn’t let me tag you !!!

[emitheduck]

Hostage Situation (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A/N: keep in mind, I’m on S1 right now. He is still soft baby boy, and nothing bad has happened (and i KNOW stuff is gonna happen)

T/W: guns, shooting, hostage situation, death, bad guy is on drugs MASTERLIST -

When he woke up this morning, Spencer Reid’s first thought was not that he would be stuck in the middle of a hostage situation. His usual routine was the same; wake up, get ready, stop in at a local coffee shop for some coffee, then head to work. Today was different, and he noticed it the second he walked into the shop. 

Before he could even get in line to order, a man was cursing and yelling at someone behind the counter. He was just about to tell the man to take it outside to cool off, and then he pulled out his gun and shot the worker behind the counter dead. 

Panic ensued, and just as he was about to jump over the counter, the man yelled for everyone in the coffee shop to sit down so he could barricade the door. This man looked crazy, and he was not about to set him off–sending one quick text to Hotch with his location and a 9-1-1 ping was all he needed. 

The cops and the BAU were on the scene before he could blink. The only downside, this man was threatening to shoot someone else if they tried to get in the building–and he left his gun back at the office. 

“Really not how I expected my morning. So much for treating myself.” A soft voice said from next to him, and he looked at the woman sitting next to him. Her legs were pulled up to her chest, and she had silent tears running tracks down her cheeks; but even so, she was breathtakingly beautiful. 

“Did you know that only about 12 percent of hostage situations a year. In all honesty, 90 percent of them are resolved successfully. I’m betting that we’ll be okay.” He told her calmly, trying his best to keep watch as the man continued to move couches over to block the front door. “How long was he yelling earlier?”

She wiped at her cheeks before answering him. “I’d say a good 10 minutes. It seemed like he was talking nonsense though. Hate to say it, but I thought it was drugs.”

Spencer nodded. “Usually there are 4 types of hostage situations. A ‘mentally disturbed’ person, criminals trapped during the mission, prisoners revolting, or political terror. I feel like he might be the first option with the way he’s acting.” He told her, watching as the man seemed to get into an argument with himself. 

“Do you normally spit facts at random or are you just making all of this up?” She asked him, watching as the corner of his lip twitched up in a smile. 

“I have an eidetic memory. I can see things once and remember them for, who knows, nothing’s gone away yet.” He told her, watching as she processed the information. “You could really ask me anything, and I could more than likely tell you something about it.”

“My name is (Y/n).” She told him, eyes quickly snapping to the man who was holding them hostage as he started yelling. 

He was yelling at everyone in the room; telling them all to be quiet so he could concentrate. That’s then the phone on the wall started to ring. “You! I want you to answer that!” He yelled, pointing the gun at (Y/n), eyes never actually leaving from his make-shift barricade. 

(Y/n) slowly got up off the floor, going behind the counter and holding back a sob as she had to step over the dead barista to get to the phone. “Hello?”

The room was silent, trying to hear what was going on at the other end of the phone call. “Well? What is it?” The man yelled, turing to (Y/n) to shout at her, waving his gun in the air. 

“It’s a call from an Agent Hotch over at the BAU. He’s saying that you need to talk to him.” She told him, handing him the phone over the counter.

The man snatched the phone off the counter, listening intensely to what the other man was saying on the other line. That was until the got mad, and threw the phone back at (Y/n), hitting her in the forehead before he turned back to hiding behind the couch. 

“(Y/n)!” Spencer whispered, going over the counter and rushing to her side. The hit didn’t knock her down, but she was sitting on the ground, silently sobbing while a cut on her forehead was bleeding and running down her temple. 

“He threw it so hard, I’m just so lucky I didn’t get shot.” She told him, reaching up trying to use her sleeve to stop the bleeding. 

Spencer grabbed the phone off the ground, checking for any damage before he held it up to his ear. “Hotch? Are you there?”

“Reid? We got your message. This man is Gary Turner. Low level criminal, a few arrest records but nothing serious that caught our attention on the first look. Then Garcia found that the barista used to be his dealer–this man is addicted to methamphetamine and is most likely high, provoking him to shoot.”

“On average, a high can last anywhere from 4 to 16 hours depending on the strength and timing of taking the drug. That’s not even counting the initial rush of taking the drug which can last 14 hours max.” He paused, looking over to (Y/n) who was staring at him like he was crazy. “What should I do?”

“My advice is to just hang tight and wait for us to figure out an approach to getting inside. Last thing we want to do is spook him; it could provoke an attack.” Hotch told him, then let out a sigh. “If you get someone to talk him down, you could try to take him down when he’s not watching.”

Spencer nodded and then put the phone down, making sure to not hang up as the ringing could provoke the man further. “We can either wait, or try to take him down.”

(Y/n)’s eyes went wide and she shook her head. “Both of those ideas sound crazy, are you kidding me?”

“I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself earlier. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, and I work for the BAU. I work for the FBI, and the man you spoke to on the phone is my boss.” He told her, watching as she processed the information. “You can ask me as many questions as you want, right after we’re not being held hostage.”

“What do you need me to do?” She asked, watching as he seemed to stop and think. 

“Either way, it poses a risk for one of us to get shot. One of us could get shot talking to him, and one of us could get shot trying to stop him. He’s using the gun frantically, firing out of fear. It looks like he’s holding a Glock 17, which means it holds about 17 shots–16 now that he’s fired one. But we have no idea how many he actually loaded into the gun in the first place.” 

(Y/n) dried under her eyes quickly, before slowly standing up from behind the counter, grabbing the phone. “Agent Hotchner said he wanted to talk to you again. Something about more questions?” She said, giving Spencer a quick nudge with her foot as a sign to start moving. 

“Can’t he take the damn hint! I don’t want to talk!” The man–Gary–yelled as he stood up, pointing his gun at (Y/n) chest as he walked over and grabbed the phone. “Can’t you all understand! This wasn’t meant to go down like this! One more time asking me stupid questions, and this girl gets shot and it’s all your fault! All of this, it’s not my fault!” He yelled into the phone, waiting to hear what the man on the other end of the line had to say.

As he was yelling, Spencer slowly slid out from behind the counter, telling the other patrons inside the coffee shop to stay quiet as he worked to sneak up behind Gary, who was still yelling into the phone. 

(Y/n) tried her hardest to not glance over at Spencer as he was moving; knowing if her eyes darted to him, the man in front of her would get suspicious and start to panic. “I’m sorry, he was speaking into the phone and wanted me to give it to you again.” She told him as he slammed the phone down on the counter.

“You give me this damn phone, one more damn time, I’m gonna make sure that you regret that decision.” Was all Gary could say before Spencer got to him, quickly snatching the gun from his hands and taking him down; holding his arms behind his back as he tackled him to the floor. 

(Y/n) grabbed the phone. “He’s down. Spencer took him down.” Was all she had to say before a police officer burst in through the window. Different police officers rushing in to help the other victims leave the building while (Y/n) stayed by Spencer’s side. “I can’t believe you took him down.”

“Personally, I can’t believe it either.” Someone said as he walked up. She didn’t even have to ask. This was Hotch, the man she had spoken to on the phone–the man who told her Spencer was going to find a way out. “Nice work Reid. And I’d have to say, wonderful work (Y/n).” He told her, taking Spencer’s place so he could handcuff Gary before dragging him out of the building.

Spencer gave her a slight smile as he brushed himself off. “It was pretty amazing that you kept talking to him even when you could see me coming, even when you had a gun pointed at you. It took a lot of agents years of training for that level of calm.”

“I’m just as surprised as you are.” She told him with a sigh. “How do I go back to my normal day after this?” She asked him with a breathy laugh. 

“Honestly? I really don’t know how you can. This is just a fraction of my everyday life, and I still can’t believe it happened when I wasn’t at work.” He told her, frowning when he remembered that she had a cut on her forehead from where Gary had struck her with the phone. “Why don’t we try to get you cleaned up before you head on your way?”

(Y/n) nodded, looking up at him before she started to cry. “I just wanted to say, thank you.” She wasted no time, quickly throwing her arms around the other man, not helping all the emotions that rushed to the surface. “I can’t thank you enough, because I honestly don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t there.”

Spencer was trying not to blush, still feeling his entire body ignite in flames. “It was nothing, honest.” This was one of the very few times in his life he seemed to be at a loss for words. “Would you be okay if gave you my phone number? Y-You know, to call me in case you start to experience any symptoms of PTSD? Those could be anxiety, nightmares, fear, flashbacks–”

“Spencer, would it be too forward to just ask if you wanted to go out with me sometime?” She asked him, smiling up at him. “I won’t say no to your number though, you know, just in case.” (Y/n) told him, leaning up and pressing a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

He was blushing like an idiot, grinning down at her as his hand reached up to touch his cheek where she had kissed him, the spot feeling almost electric. “Anytime.”

–

“I’m telling you, she asked me out!” Spencer yelled as he stirred sugar into his coffee.

“And I’m telling you. I need to meet this girl and find out what’s wrong with her to see why she asked you out in the first place.” Morgan smirked, loving the reaction he was getting out of the younger man. “And all this happened because of some hostage situation?”

“You can even ask Hotch, he was there and everything.” He emphasized, watching as Hotch was walking by, a perfect opportunity to ask him a question. “Hotch, did the girl at the shooter situation not ask for my number, kiss me, then ask me out?

Hotch paused, his expression unmoving. “Reid asked if he could give her his number, she did in fact ask him out, but he only ended up with a kiss on the cheek. Too chicken to actually press one to her lips.” He told the two men before walking away.

“You know, for someone so smart, it’s a wonder how you didn’t get the hint she wanted to kiss you. You better kiss her when you take her out on a date.” Morgan told Spencer, giving him a firm pat on the back.

He nodded, processing the information as Morgan started to walk away. “Wait! How do I even ask her out!”

MASTERLIST

[greazyfloz]

Can you do 17 and 21 angst prompt list with Mark?

Angst: “You’re pregnant?” “I don’t want it” & 21. “You're sleeping on the couch” w/ Mark Estapa

note: it's been a week since I've posted anything, so my writing is a little rough!!

Couch

Mark was out with some of his friends tonight, while I hung back at the house. I wasn't expecting Mark to be back while I was still awake, because typically the boys will stay out until the early hours of the morning.

Around 10:30pm, I heard the front door open and close followed by footsteps heading up to Mark and I's room before our door swung open. I smile at Mark looking slightly confused but he looks a little stressed.

"You're back early" I say and he looks away slightly before shooting his head right back at me.

"You're pregnant?" he asks me and I look back at him stunned.

"No?"

"I heard at the bar that-" he starts but I cut him off

"Well it's a rumour. I can take a test if you don't believe me"

"No, it's fine. I believe you" He says laughing slightly, "But good"

"Good?" I ask him

"Yeah, it's a good thing right? I know I don't want it."

Although I don't want a child, his delivery hurt my feelings. I squint my eyes at him and try to process my feelings before speaking but he stands.

"Well, I'm going to head back now" he says awkwardly

"What the fuck?"

"What?"

"You come home to make sure I wasn't pregnant then tell me you don't want a baby with me and then you just get up and just leave?"

"Wait-" he says but I interrupt

"Actually you didn't ask me, you accused me"

"I did not accuse you" he says rolling his eyes at me

"Whatever, fuck off Mark. Go have fun at the bar. I'm SO glad you came all the way home just to make sure I wasn't pregnant"

"Y/n, come on..."

"Stop acting like I shouldn't be mad" i spit back

"Well you shouldn't!" he yells back, finally having enough

"Well, what if I was pregnant?" I ask him and the room went silent as he tries to think of the right thing to say. He continues to think as I get impatient with him staring at me. "Just leave Mark" I say

Mark doesn't say anything but walks towards the door. Boys are so stupid sometimes.

"Don't bother coming up to bed tonight, you're sleeping on the couch!" I say as he walks out in the hall. I stand from the bed and quickly slam the bedroom door, then listen as he makes his way back out the door.

The rest of the night, I walked back and forth around the room kind of regretting being so hard on him. He didn't know how to react, hell, I wouldn't have either. I thought with all of the thoughts running through my head I'd be up all night but when I finally settled down on the bed, I immediately fell asleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I headed downstairs and found Mark sleeping on the couch. I sat on the cushion in front of his stomach and ran my finger through his hair to wake him. He groaned as his eyes fluttered open to see me.

"Hi" I smile apologetically at him

"Hi" he says in the same tone, "I'm s-"

"No" I interrupt, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did.

"No, don't be sorry. I hurt your feelings, I deserved the couch" he says still sleepily. I don't reply to him but instead lower myself to lay in his arms, as they welcome me into his chest. I look up at him and he kisses my lips, "and I do want to have a baby with you, just not at this time" he says after pulling away

"I know" I smile, "I guess I was a little upset you went all the way back instead of just staying with me"

"I know, I'm sorry for that too. I realized I shouldn't have done that either after I left" he tells me and I just cuddle into his arms a little more.