#and i thought i was done with the constant arguing every fucking day

[the-kneesbees]

.

#my dad made it painfully fucking clear that he hated me from the age of like 12-14 #and he always blamed it on my age #yk 'teenage girls are sooo difficult to raise' #and it took a handful of really big arguments #and countless smaller ones #for him to decide that hey maybe i actually want to have a decent relationship with my daughter #and acts like ive grown as a oerson and all our arguments before were all my fault #but now ive changed and we dont butt heads as much anymore #even though i havent really changed much at all #i just decided that my mental health was more important to me than the man who said to my face that he wishes i was never born #i changed nothing #i just decided to just say ok fine whatever you can be right if that makes you feel better #and move on #and i thought i was done with the constant arguing every fucking day #i mean we still dont gt along that well all the time but i thought i would at least be able to fucking breathe #except now my brother at that age #where hes constantly arguing with my dad #its an everyday thing #and its just been getting worse #and idk i guess im a really emotional person so anytime my dad so much as raises his voice #at literally anyone #im a fucking mess #i guess the difference between me and my brother #my brother wont cry in front in front of our dad #and he'll just let him say whatever he wants he wont protest or anything #he just says ok #but i always cry when my dad yells at me #and i also always yell back #idk which is more draining though. idk im just a mess im so tired #i thought i was done but now its gonna be like this till i move out.

[holybibly]

ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕫𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 | 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: smut, idol!Au, s2l, fragment of life

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 12,9k

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Seven times you've been lucky, on the eighth Song Mingi from Ateez shows you a side of himself that his fans will probably never get to know.

𝕎𝔸ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾: Pervert Idol! Mingi, Unprotected sex, stomach bulge, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, somnophilia, multiple orgasms, сreampie, sexual audio recording, rough sex, praise kink and more.

𝔸/ℕ: Wrote this overnight, it's really crazy. Gosh, I am so excited to show you the handsome Mingi who has become a favourite for an overnight train ride poll. I hope it lives up to your expectations. This is one of the 4 pieces I've been working on. It brings us closer to a tender and sensual smut with Seonghwa (I'm still suffering from the idea).

I'll make a masterlist this weekend.

Comments, reblogs and questions are always welcome. I'm completely open to communication, so don't be shy bunnies. We have a safe space here.

Lots of love to you all. Have fun on your night train ride with Mingi.

dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

"Take care, darling; you never know what may happen. Especially in the night." Asa's voice was soft, but with a note of insistence.

"Asa, you don't have to worry so much. It's just a night train; I've done it a thousand times." You sigh tiredly, knowing it was pointless to argue with Asa, and yet, in a way, she was right. You never know what might happen at any given moment in your life.

"There's always a first time, Y/N. Take care, and be sure to text me when you get on the train."

"Sure, I will see you soon." You pull the sleeves of your shortened jumper tighter as you press the call disconnect button.

The night air is cool and fresh, dancing on your skin like a light breeze, crawling under the hem of your short skirt, tickling the soft, milky skin of your bare thighs. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you begin to regret your choice of clothing. It's too open and too revealing, both for the time of day and for the situation.

But it doesn't matter; the train is warm and cosy in its own way, and soon you'll be relaxing on the soft seats of the dark compartment under the peaceful rhythmic rocking, but most importantly, you'll be alone without the noise and bustle. Travelling to Tokyo is great, and you enjoy every second, but the crowds get tiring and the incessant noise starts to stress you out.

That is why an overnight train journey is a nice and relaxing change of pace.

It's a spontaneous trip to another city, just for a few days—a place quieter and more secluded than the never-sleeping Tokyo. Asa is waiting for you to finally join her, having travelled there the day before yesterday. Rumour has it that this is also the town where you're most likely to find the most Korean idols, who have come to relax in the luxurious hot springs.

They always come here to spend their long-awaited holidays without the constant camera surveillance and screaming fans. You didn't care if you met any of the celebrities there. Seeing a pretty face here and there was a nice bonus, but the main purpose of your trip was the hot springs and a few gourmet restaurants with high user ratings.

It's not that you were totally ignorant of idols; you were aware of many groups thanks to Asa and her crush on pretty boys, but you were a realist, and it was just stupid to have rosy dreams for a guy who had never seen you in his life, and if he had, he probably wouldn't remember you. That's why it didn't matter to you at all whether or not you met any of the pretty idols along the way.

You always thought night trains were the best way to travel. Travelling during the day is too hectic, too noisy, and too impractical. Instead of sitting in a stuffy metal box on wheels and wasting precious time, you could be doing something useful. There's always the chance of a night's rest, even if it's just for a few hours, and the next morning you'll be somewhere else, full of energy and good humour.

This was the seventh time you'd travelled by overnight train, and so far you'd considered yourself lucky. You were so grateful that you'd never had to share the confined space of your compartment with anyone else. The prospect of sleeping next to a stranger wasn't the most appealing one, and it would no doubt make you very nervous.

You cross your fingers in the hope that your luck will hold this time around. As you walk down the aisle of the train, you shift your gaze from your ticket to the small numbers on the tightly closed compartment doors. You try to find your seat. When you finally find it, you exhale with relief and push open the heavy sliding door. You are glad to be able to sit down and stretch your legs, taking off the most uncomfortable shoes in the world. It's first-class. The door opens silently and smoothly, allowing a thin strip of light from the narrow corridor into the secluded compartment, illuminating it with a bright yellow glow.

You've never thought about sharing your space with anyone else because you're so used to being alone. Except for a few passengers who seem to share your point of view, most people prefer to travel during the day, so the night trains are usually almost empty. Once your eyes get used to the changing light, you can't help but gasp at what you see.

"Oh!"

You're not alone. There's someone else in the semi-darkness of your compartment.

Someone from whom it seems impossible to take your eyes off, no matter how rude it might be of you to do so. There's a man sitting on the seat directly in front of you, with his legs spread wide open and his mobile phone held loosely in one hand. He is an incredibly attractive guy. You quickly look away, embarrassed that you're openly checking him out, as your eyes slide down his body. He's dressed in a black suit that hugs his thick thighs. God, this is embarrassing. His jacket is folded beside him, leaving him wearing a single black shirt and a few buttons undone on his chest, contrasting beautifully with his smooth golden skin.

For the second time that night, your eyes met his, and you gasped. You somehow know who those eyes belong to, and who doesn't? Two puddles of melted milk chocolate, the soft, sugary look of puppy dog eyes—Song Mingi, a gorgeous, cheeky rapper from Ateez. Oh, boy.

You swallow loudly at the realisation that your eyes aren't the only ones analysing the stranger in front of you.

"Good evening." You bow and lower your head as you realise that you've clearly been staring at the idol all this time. Suddenly, you feel so ashamed that you can't even imagine meeting his gaze again. In return, you get a small hum of approval from him and a polite nod of the head from him.

You finally decide to go inside and close the door behind you after a few seconds of awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot. The lights inside are rather dim, a bit of a nuisance despite the fact that they hardly illuminate your compartment at all, and you wonder if he would mind if you asked him to turn them off completely at some point. Eventually, it starts to make your sensitive eyes ache, but you don't want to make Mingi feel uncomfortable by asking for it.

The atmosphere was already awkward and strange, and you didn't want to make it worse. He must have decided to take the night train for the same reasons you did. And here you are, the two of you, strangers, although can you really call a guy the whole world knows a stranger? In the semi-darkness of a night compartment, without prying eyes or cameras.

The situation seemed to be stressful, and that's why you were so grateful that up until now you hadn't had to share your space with anyone else on overnight journeys. Even so, there was something strangely intoxicating and exhilarating about the whole thing.

Does it look like your luck has run out, or have you managed to grab it by the tail?

You take your bag off your shoulder and tiptoe up to put it on the luggage rack with your back to him. Unfortunately for you, you can't get to it. Right now you're cursing your short stature for looking utterly ridiculous in front of a good-looking guy, and not just any guy, but Song Mingi himself. You can feel the muscles in your legs tense up in pain as you try to stretch yourself up, and you have the feeling that the bag in your hands is getting heavier and heavier the more you try to put it on the shelf. It's so embarrassing that you let out a muffled, awkward laugh.

"I'll give you a hand with that." The unexpected touch of the palm of your hand against your lower back upsets your balance, and your body jerks.

Your head jumps up, goose bumps running up your arms and creeping down your back as you realise that Mingi is now standing next to you, too close to be considered decent. The scent of his woody, tart perfume fills the small space between you, and you long to bury your face in his broad, muscular chest and take a deep breath of him.

He easily takes the bag from you and sets it on top of the top compartment, the touch of his other hand still palpable—hot, confident, and somehow possessive—as it slides down, almost to the curve of your butt. 

You look down and suddenly realise how far your skirt has been pulled up. It now exposes most of your milky thighs and barely covers your bottom. Trying to look as decent as possible, you pull down the hem of your skirt with a soft squeak to get your clothes back in place. Your cheeks are flushed with shame and embarrassment. Looking up again, you realise that Mingi is watching you intently, watching every move of yours.

"You're so tiny." He says this, tilting his head to one side and letting the corner of his soft, plump pink lips curve up in a smirk.

Your heart flutters at the thought, perhaps a little more than it should be doing. You would never have thought that you would feel a strange mixture of emotions—something between excitement and extreme embarrassment—over something so trivial, perhaps even offensive.

"Maybe you're the one that's too tall." You realise this and immediately feel sorry for yourself, desperately wanting to put your hand over your mouth. God, can't you just make yourself look even stupider in his eyes? You shouldn't have said that aloud.

In response to your words, Mingi hums and raises an eyebrow. There is a gleam of amusement in his beautiful brown eyes; your comment seems to amuse him. Your cheeks heat up from the blush that is spreading over them, but you're grateful for the playful reaction; it makes the situation a little less weird and awkward.

You really should sit back in your seat and shut up so you don't say too much, something along the lines of, "You look absolutely stunning in that suit; can I sit on your lap?".

Eventually, you turn your attention to the hand still on your hip, and the sight of his long fingers adorned with massive rings makes your knees tremble more than you'd like to admit.

When he pulls away, you find that the loss of his touch is making you feel as cold as ice. You quickly come to your senses and sit down on the opposite side of the idol, who follows your lead and settles down in his own seat.

You take out your phone and text Asa, as promised. God, you'll have so much to talk about when you meet. Awkwardly crumpling the hem of your skirt, you wait for the train to depart. For a long minute, there is silence in the compartment—an utterly awkward, embarrassing silence.

Every time you cast a quick glance towards Mingi, you notice that his eyes don't seem to leave you for a second. He presses the tip of his tongue lightly against the corner of his plump, beautiful lips, as if analysing your every move.

It makes you nervous to be in your own skin.

"I'm Mingi." Your ears perk up in an instant as soon as he starts to speak again.

When he says his name, his voice sounds so soft, soothing, and confident. You can't remember the last time you've been so attracted to another man's voice. It makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter, and maybe, just maybe, it makes you squeeze your thighs a little harder than you should.

 

This is messed up.

"I know." You answer quietly. This is a fucking embarrassment. You decide you've humiliated yourself enough in front of him, so after a moment, you add. "Y/N, nice to meet you."

"Ah, so you know, eh?" He smiles brightly, and you somehow melt. "And here I was thinking' we were just strangers to each other. That's not a problem for you, Y/N, is it?" The way he says your name takes your breath away from you. It's something in his nature—a hidden but imposing dominance, so deep with a quiet note of authority. There were darker layers lurking beneath that image of sweet charm.

You have no idea why he has such an effect on you, but it's safe to say the overwhelming feeling is not entirely unwelcome.

"No, no, it's fine." You wave your hands in an awkward manner. "It should have been my turn to ask if it was OK. At a time like this, I guess you didn't expect anyone else to be using the train." Your cheeks flushed, and you nervously bit your lower lip.

"How cute."

You bring your hand up to your face and press it against your hot cheeks, trying to cool them down a little. Cute! It's a real miracle that you manage to stop yourself from squealing enthusiastically.

"Are you going travelling, Y/N?" He tilts his head to the side in an interested way, like a curious puppy, and you can't help but smile in response to that.

.

"Yes, to the hot springs." Looking anywhere but at Mingi, you reply humbly.

"Ah, I see. Takayu Onsen?"

"Tamagawa Onsen, actually."

At your words, the idol nods understandingly, and a dazzling smile appears on his lips. God, can he get any more handsome?

"Of course it's Tamagawa. Somehow I can't imagine you anywhere else; this place is your kind of place. Then you're stuck with me. I'm going there too; the boys and I have to spend a few days there before the concerts." He says it in such an easy and casual way. As if you've known each other for a long time.

"Um, it's quite a long trip. Are you sure you'll be comfortable?" You ask Mingi, vaguely hoping that you'll be able to sneak away from him and find yourself comfortably alone again. For some reason, his presence makes you feel very uncomfortable and makes you tingle. There's something special about him, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"It's fine. Really, don't worry." Mingi settled himself more comfortably in his seat and spread his long legs a little further apart, causing the tight fabric of his suit trousers to stretch and outline the contours of his gorgeous, muscular thighs. His whole posture seemed to say, "You're not getting rid of me that easily." "Actually, I'm the one who should be asking if your boyfriend is upset that you will spent the night with another man." There is something about the way he says it that makes you tense up inside, but you ignore it completely and answer quietly instead, crossing your legs shyly.

"I've no boyfriend." And without knowing it, you give him exactly the answer that Mingi wanted. "I'm just on a road trip with a friend." Shying away from making full eye contact with him, his gaze so intense and focused, your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as you speak.

When he speaks again, you can almost hear the smile in Mingi's deep voice.

"Then I hope you'll enjoy it fully."

Silence falls over you once more. You keep looking at your shoes, desperately wanting to take them off and curl up on the soft seat. But Mingi's presence prevents you from relaxing completely. As the train sets in motion, you give a slight jerk. Midnight, it's now. It will take about eight hours to get to Tamagawa, and you should arrive at the station in the morning.

You let your eyes slide down from your shoes to Mingi's legs in stealth. His thighs are so muscular and strong that he could probably squeeze you between them, and you wouldn't be able to move an inch, trapped as you were under his tall, strong body. You feel warm between your legs, and you bite your lower lip, hoping Mingi is too busy phoning to notice you're staring at his thighs. And you have to push away the thought of how nice it would be to ride one of those beautiful, thick thighs and rub your pussy against it.

"This is a beautiful pendant. It looks good on you." The sound of Mingi's voice makes you jerk, and you raise your eyes to him fearfully.

Instinctively, you press your fingers against the gleaming heart of crystal that sits on your chest. It's massive—heavy on your chest, glimmering cold, hard to miss.

"Thanks; it's my favourite too." The compliment takes you completely by surprise, but at the same time, it brings a slight, sweet pout to your lips.

Mingi can't help but think about what that pendant is going to look like between your naked tits while you're being scolded like there's no tomorrow. He can bet that it's going to be fucking amazing. His plump lips curl up in a smirk.

"Do you always wear it?" Contextual question: When you get fucked, do you take it off?

"Yes. It's my lucky charm." As if to warm it up, your fingers wrap around the large crystal, rubbing it a little. "It always brings me good luck."

"How appropriate." Mingi observes, chuckling grimly.

For an idol, Mingi seems inordinately interested in learning more about you, but you naively chalk it up to a trivial lack of social contact and a limited opportunity to see the world without the constant scrutiny of managers and the attention of cameras.

You're too enamoured with his sweet, playful personality, reminiscent of a big, soft puppy. You'll fancy yourself under his scrutiny and answer all his questions, even the ones that make you blink in confusion or blush hotly. Mingi is a real sweetheart, and you can totally agree with his fans: He's such a nice, nice guy. Little do you know about him...

He does it almost mechanically, moving his hands so you can't take your eyes off them, twirling the massive silver rings on his long phalanges, touching his plush, juicy lips with his fingertips, and noticing the beautiful gel on his nails. Your body reacts to his every move; your lower abdomen feels pleasantly tight, and you can feel a faint throbbing between your legs every time he smiles at you, making you squeeze your thighs together and squirm nervously in your seat.

"Sorry for asking so many questions. You know it's not always easy to talk to someone." He lowers his eyes shyly and bites his plump lip. You immediately try to put his concern at ease.

"I get it; being an idol must be hard, having to be in control all the time."

Damn, you were so right; you'd run away from him as soon as you opened the door to the compartment if you only knew what dirty, lustful thoughts he's having about you and how his sweet smile hides a passionate desire to push you into the padded seat and fuck you so hard you can't think or walk.

But Mingi was good at it. He could control his face and body very well, thanks to Seonghwa's great example. He had taught him only the best.

"You must be tired; if you want, we can turn off the light and you can go to bed." Mingi said, noticing that you were rubbing your eyes more and more, stumbling over your own words, and yawning all the time. "You can trust me; I'll take care of you, Y/N." The tone is so sweet, too sweet, to hide the true meaning of what he's saying: Sweetheart, I want to jerk off to your sleepy, pretty face as you relax in my presence—so seductive and vulnerable.

That deep, honeyed tone inevitably makes your thighs clench, but with it comes a flood of guilt as you feel your panties get wet, and dirty thoughts put you in such an uncomfortable position that you have to fidget awkwardly on the seat, praying by all that is holy that your embarrassing arousal goes unnoticed and you don't leave a wet spot on the seat.

"Are you sure?" You're terribly tired from the day. The offer is so tempting, and Mingi is so charming and respectful. A real gentleman.

Mingi smiles softly, but it is a smile that looks a little predatory at the edges as his big, hot palm comes down on your bare knee. It sends a shiver down the length of your skin.

"Sure, go to bed, doll."

You feel yourself blushing again, but you can't tell why—the heavy, hot touch of his hand against your skin or the caressing nickname. God, this guy is a threat. You give a slow nod and turn your gaze to the dimly lit wall sconce on the wall. Mingi follows your eyes and reaches up to turn it off, plunging the entire compartment into a pleasant darkness. The faint, diffused light of the moon through the window is the only source of light that allows you to see each other's faces. A smile of gratitude is on your face in response to his actions.

"Thanks, I had no idea how much my eyes were hurting."

"You're welcome, doll."

You try to ignore the way his voice seems to sink lower. It takes on such a velvety, dark tone that it makes you even wetter between your legs. You pull back. Mingi has been so sweet and polite to you all this time; you should be ashamed of these feelings.

As you lean back in the empty seat beside you and close your heavy eyelids, the touch of his hand fades. You feel a strange comfort in Mingi's company, despite your earlier apprehension at being so vulnerable in the company of a stranger. Despite being a world-famous star and just a damn gorgeous man, he really is so kind and attentive to you. You do not dare to doubt what he says. Mingi has promised to take care of you, and you are strangely comforted by the thought. In fact, he really is a very caring man. You begin to suspect that this is true for all of them.

Before you close your eyes again, you look at Mingi. His dark gaze is fixed on you, and there is something raw in the depths of those chocolate-coloured irises of his. The moonlight falling on him makes his chiselled face look sharper and sexier, and there is no longer the sweet smile and adorable puppy-dog expression on his handsome features. It makes you take a sharp breath before your fluttering eyelids stay closed, weighed down by sleep. Your whole body relaxes, and you let yourself drift off to sleep, lulled by the peaceful rocking of the train and the calm presence of Mingi.

Mingi just can't take his eyes off you. You look so tiny, so soft and juicy with your plump arse and the most delicious pair of tits he's ever seen. They're perfect to hold in his hands and his hands are just itching to squeeze them into his palms, feel their weight, pull on those pink nipples until you start wriggling and sobbing. Oh, how he wants to hear the sweet sounds you make as he fills you with his cock, or even better, as you moan out his name.

For tonight at least, he just wants to have you. Mingi isn't at all picky about where he wants to get laid; a night train isn't the worst option. He's been fucked in more uncomfortable places than this. But that wouldn't be very nice of him. Would it? He said he'd look after you while you slept so innocently in front of him in that seductive little skirt. He wonders if you're wearing lace or silk knickers. It's probably silk, because you look as if you're enjoying the light and soft touch of the silk fabric against your sweet pussy. You must also be very sensitive.

Y/N. He is absolutely mesmerised by you. Everything about you is so enticing. The way your round cheeks blush, the beautiful way you smile, and especially the way you squeeze your thighs together every time he turns to you. You are a little slut. Mingi is absolutely delighted with how he's making you feel. He makes you nervous. He wants nothing more than to get under your skin even more.

But if Mingi has learned anything by now, it's that despite your best efforts, you're not a very subtle person. In fact, you're easy to read. Your petite body gives you away all the time. Your teeth bite your plump lower lip until it's swollen and red. Your eyes never leave his hands as he deliberately plays with his rings, causing you to lose your train of thought. You're probably thinking about him using his fingers to stretch your tight hole or using his fingers to fuck your soft, wet mouth. Mingi's sure he'll have to spend enough time getting you to take three fingers in your cunt before lowering you on his cock, and maybe you'll even let him play with your virgin arse. Hell, he'll beg you if he must. Fuck his pride at the prospect of being the first to fuck your plump arse. He's going to have to make a video of himself fucking you so stupid and so deep. San is going to go mad when he sees your juicy arse blushing under the palms of his hands and and jiggling seductively every time he enters you up to your balls.

You are definitely something special.

That's what Mingi tells himself over and over and over again. He's just reaching out to you. Nothing more than that.

Just like he promised, he'll take care of you. You'll feel good, and getting his dick wet will be a nice bonus for him.

He takes another good look at your beautiful face as he leans forward in his seat. Your lips are wet, plump and parted, and he can't help but imagine how beautiful they would look stretched around his big cock. You're going to have to practise getting yourself to swallow his dick whole, you probably won't get more than a quarter of him the first time. The thought of it is the cause of the salivation in his mouth. 

Your eyelashes are touching the top of your cheeks, your soft dark hair is beautifully curled up in ringlets, and Mingi wants to mess it up and pull it out. You look absolutely angelic. A real doll. Mingi has never seen an angel before. He can't be blamed for his desire to have a touch and to defile.

Idol or not, Mingi is just a man. 

It all begins with a small movement of his fingers over the kneecap of his knee to the top of his thigh. He can feel how his touch raises the goose bumps on your skin. Mingi feels bolder and lowers his palm all the way down to your thigh, letting it rest gently on your body, and then gently reaches up to the inside of your thigh, making you shiver. At the sight, Mingi licks his lips. It would be easier if he came closer. Would it?

As he kneels down, he places his other hand on your leg, now touching both of your thighs. Your skirt rises with each touch of Mingi's eager hands, lifting the fabric higher and higher each time. He glances over your voluptuous body, his gaze lingering on the spot where your sweater has risen, exposing the soft skin of your stomach and the peeking lower half of your bra. Fuck. He can't quite make out what it is in the dark, but he knows it must be the creamy silk that covers your full breasts. That makes him dig his fingertips harder into your skin.

You move in your sleep, shifting until you're on your back, giving Mingy full access without even wanting it. It's as if you want to make it even easier for his dirty hands to touch your chaste, tantalised body. When he sees an opportunity, Mingy never says no. Carefully, he slides one hand under your skirt while the other continues to massage your thigh in a soothing way. Confirming his earlier thought, his fingers are impatient and run briefly over your panties. They're silk, and they're wet as hell. You're soaked through, and he's already decided that he's definitely taking your panties with him. He'll be sure to jerk off in them when he has a bit of free time later.

"Oh, dolly, you're so damn wet." Mingi moans hoarsely as his fingers slowly slide over the wet material, rubbing it. The furrowed brow quickly disappeared, and the doll's lips parted in a perfect 'o', a short sob escaping from them. "Precious little one."

Your legs twitch in an attempt to squeeze Mingi's forearm, but he quickly calms you, spreading your thighs with his free hand and smiling carnivorously at the soft squeal that escapes your lips as you feel long fingers play with your plump clit through your underwear. If the fans knew what their adored idol was doing, they'd be going crazy. But they probably already knew. Considering the number of female fans they've fucked over the years, the information has leaked out somewhere in the tight circle of their fandom.

Mingi decides he doesn't like the silk barrier. He slides his hand under the silk of your panties and touches the wet warmth of your cunt, making his trousers suddenly feel too tight around his crotch.

As if he'd just discovered a new toy that he wanted to touch and explore before playing with it, he let himself explore the wetness. You are soaking wet, and Mingi can feel that he is gradually losing all self-control and all control over himself. He wants to taste you; he wants to feel you on his tongue; he doesn't even mind rubbing his face against you like a dog. The pressure of his thumb against your throbbing clit finally seems to wake you up. You gasp and begin to open your sleepy eyes. You look around in confusion. Then you let out a startled cry as you noticed Mingi crouching beside you, one hand between your thighs.

"Shhhh." As your legs begin to convulse, Mingi quickly reassures you. "It's all right, doll; it's just me. You can go back to sleeping if you want to. I'll take care of the rest." He whispers it in a velvety, soothing voice, as if he were trying to lure a kitten into his arms.

You still seem to be very disoriented; your eyes are not quite open, and you are whimpering in despair and shame at finding yourself in a situation for which you were totally unprepared. Mingi kneels before you. Song Mingi is kneeling before you with his hand pressed against your pussy. 

It is Mingi's wish that he could do away with all your worries and nerves. He knows he could, if only you would stop squeezing your legs so tightly around his hand.

"M-Mingi, what..." There's a sharp exhale from you at last, as if you're coming to terms with the situation. "What are you doing?"

The idol gives you a seductive smile.

"You looked like you needed help, doll. So needy and restless. Let me help you, huh? Let me take care of you, Y/N." Mingi leans down on your thigh to plant a wet, open-mouthed kiss on it. When he lifts his eyes up to you, they're bright and languorous, but with that adorable puppy-dog expression that's so well known to his fans.

"I'm going to take good care of you."

You resist, still stunned by the sight and situation you woke up from, and bring your hands to your chest, unconsciously wrapping your arms around the heart-shaped pendant for reassurance. Mingi allows her fingers to continue doing what they were doing before, slowly circling over your clit, causing you to catch your breath. Your small hand reaches out for Mingi's palm, which is still gripping your thigh tightly, the nails digging into his skin.   "Y-you shouldn't do that. You...you can't act that way; what  if?"You sob in a convulsive manner, your glassy eyes meeting Mingi's. Sexy, gorgeous, and lecherous Mingi, the sweet image of him completely shattered, towers over you even in this position. Despite your words, your body has its own opinion: your lower lip is caught between your teeth, and your breasts are rising and falling rapidly. The way your thighs are still trying to squeeze together and the way more and more moisture is dripping onto Mingi's fingers is a clear sign of approval for his actions to continue.

You're so easy to read. Mingi loves it. He's always liked the more responsive and sensitive type better. For him, what a pleasure it is to fuck them, dumb and docile.

"And why shouldn't I be, huh?" Mingi says as he intertwines his fingers with yours and leans forward to run his nose along your thigh, too close to your pussy. He takes a deep breath. Fuck, you smell delicious and his drool starts to flow. "Because I'm an idol? Is it because I have to be good and obedient? Or is it because you don't want me to, because it seems like that's all you ever think about? Have you had a dirty dream about me? You used to moan so much in your sleep, Y/N."

You hesitate, closing your slanted cat eyes and letting the feel of Mingi's touch envelop you, your lips pressed together to hold back a loud moan. He can already feel you giving in, even though you haven't answered him.

He's good at cajoling. Again, thank Seonghwa for that.

"We shouldn't..." You whine as one of Mingi's long fingers teases at your wet entrance, and the thought of that finger plunging into you makes you shudder. 

"We can do what we want to do, or don't you want to do that? Don't you want me?" He purses his lips, pretending to offend. "You like me. Don't you? I'm your favourite boy, right?"

You nod, feeling more depressed by the second, unable to form a coherent thought. How could that have been the case? You must be dreaming. Dreaming that Mingi of Ateez is kneeling before you.

Oh my God!

"Use your words, doll. Say, "I want you." Speak my name." The idol continues to coax you, and you give in, much to the delight of the Mingi.

"I want you, Mingi." You do your best to keep your eyes on Mingi as you speak, but his gaze is too intense and too strong, and you feel terribly embarrassed. He looks almost predatorily.

Mingi grins fiercely and slowly licks his lips. His finger slides lightly into your wet cunt. In response to this, he hears an intermittent sigh of pleasure from you.

"What a good girl."

You sound so precious as he bends his finger inside you, feeling your velvety walls. Wetness drips down his massive silver rings to the base of his fingers. Mingi wants to record your sweet sounds and include them in the next track so everyone can hear how well he pleases you. He should do it, damned. Hongjoong will be burning with envy when he hears about you. The captain has a weakness for sweet little girls who moan and groan. Fucking pervert.

Mingi lets go of your hand to pick up his forgotten phone from the floor, still finger-fucking you. He quickly opens the audio recording application, hits the 'record' button, and drops the phone on the floor next to him, giving his full attention back to you.

You are so in need of his touch. You can't deny your desire for him. Your body speaks for itself.

"Come on, baby, moan for me. Let everyone hear what a dirty girl you are. Come on. What do you say we put some of your beautiful moans and groans on our new track? Mmm, you're going to hear it all over the place; every time you will remember how good it felt when I fucked your little, tight cunt."

"Oh God, that's... You can't say that." You whimper.

"Don't be embarrassed, gorgeous. Let's get you out of those pretty little knickers so you can sing even more sweetly for me." You nod impatiently, breathing heavily as Mingi helps you to lift your hips and pull your knickers off, quickly slipping them into his pocket. He was quite serious when he said that he wanted to take them with him.

Now that your pussy is fully exposed, Mingi takes the liberty of spreading your legs wide open and stares intently at the clear liquid that oozes out of your hole, causing you to whimper and cover your face in shame. He leans down to leave a hot scarlet and purple hickey on the inside of your thigh.

"Look at how wet you are, fuck." Mingi moans in a guttural voice as his fingers push your folds apart so that they are completely covered in your slick, glistening juices. "You've had a dirty dream, haven't you, baby?"

Your eyes are closed, and your long lashes are fluttering. Your plump lower lip is trapped between your front teeth. You're such a spectacle; oh, how he wants to fuck your brains out. In response to his question, you nod your head shyly.

"Y-yes."

Your embarrassment excites Mingi even more as he slaps your pussy, finally giving in to his perverted desires and feeling the moisture splash against his palm. You let out a shrill squeal, your hips shaking uncontrollably.

"Must have been something fucking satisfying, getting your little cunt that wet, huh?" He grins lecherously as he looks at you. You look tasty enough to make him want to eat you alive.

He should really thank the manager for getting him a ticket on that special train.

Your legs twitched, trying to close, but Mingi's hand stiffly stopped them before letting them close around his forearm. You're so overwhelmed by all the sensations, but you're not at all ready for them to stop.

"I... I don't remember. Maybe I was thinking of you. Or maybe someone else." Having heard from Asa about the jealous nature of the group, you say this deliberately. All of the members were very possessive of their fans and very aggressive towards them. Why should they look to anyone else when they are right here, ready to make all their fans' dreams come true?

Mingi bristled. Sinking his teeth into your thigh and forcing his finger into you, making his ring stick to the sensitive rim of your used hole. Fuck. The pain and the pleasure mix together and turn your thoughts into mush.

"With my fingers fucking you like this, don't you fucking dare say that." He growls, the deep sound of it vibrating against your skin. Mingi slides a second finger inside of you, the two of them gliding through the wetness with ease and a loud slurping sound. "You will think only of me all the time. There is no one who can be better than me, doll."

You throw your head back, your chest rising and falling in a quick motion. The velvety walls of your pussy clench around Mingi's fingers. The sound of your moaning rises as the idol runs his fingers along the plush and tantalising walls of your vagina. They seem to just suck him in. You're so tiny all over, and he wonders if you can take all his cock.

"It's only you, Mingi." The way you howl out his name is all the answer that Mingi needs to hear.

The idol can't resist the temptation to lean forward and put his face between your thighs. His lust takes over; the sight is too exciting. All he had to do was find out if you tasted as sweet as you looked. The reaction is immediate: his tongue is licking a flat line from your slit to your clit, which he is circling greedily in between his plump lips. Your soft thighs tremble, your breath gets stuck in your throat along with a long moan, and your little hands cling to his shoulders.

"Oh, oh, God!" You let out a gasp, a barely audible whimper, your nails digging into the hard flesh beneath your tight-fitting shirt. Mingi is hoping that you are going to scratch him to a bloody pulp. Hell, he's in need of it.

You drive him crazy with your cuteness. Your juices are flowing in abundance all over his tongue. It tastes amazing, just the way he imagined it would, and Mingi thinks that he could get drunk on you. Fuck, he'll be bragging about you for days to come, rubbing it in the faces of the members. What a sweet thing he's managed to get his hands on. He could probably sit there and do that for hours, even days, licking that pretty little cunt of yours until his jaw hurts and his whole face is wet. He may have oral fixation, but that's not something he's going to want to put on his profile.

He sucks furiously on your swollen clit as his fingers begin to penetrate your tight hole, the wet, squelching sounds drowning out the sound of a train rumbling down the tracks. You're just perfect—too perfect for Mingi to ignore and not fuck. You literally taste heaven, and your voice sounds like sin—hot moans of uncontrollable pleasure.

"I...will...ahhh...M-Mingi..." You whimper, pressing your hand to your own mouth, and Mingi passionately wants to stop you and tell you that there's no better sound for his ears than your moaning. But the rational part of his brain, which sounds strangely like Seonghwa, tells him that it's for the best and that it's wise not to attract the attention of outsiders. "Please!"

You beg, and it's beautiful, your words muffled by the small palm of your hand but still clearly audible to him. Your back arched as you pushed your hips forward, forcing Mingi's fingers to dig deeper into you. You squeeze them so hard that the idol can barely move them inside of you at all. You squeeze them so hard that Mingi's chest vibrates with a rather low purr, which only drives you more wildly and adds to the pleasure, finally taking you to an unexpected peak as you cum profusely on Mingi's waiting tongue and fingers. You are flowing everywhere, and Mingi is greedily drinking it all in, insatiable in his quest to bring you to yet another orgasm, to make you so silly and submissive in his hands. He will take it all and more from you.

Mingi is so hungry for you, and you are so juicy and ripe, perfect for eating.

The second orgasm makes your whole body shake, and the stimulation is almost painful. Your hips jerk in Mingi's tight grip as he digs his fingertips into the plush, creamy skin. He simply can't get enough of you. He marvels at how dishevelled you look, lifting his dark gaze. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed, your skirt is pulled up high over your hips, and your cropped sweater almost completely exposes your bra. But it is your sweet mouth that beckons him to you completely. Beautiful, plump lips, slick with saliva and bite marks. They have been opened to let out gorgeous moans of his name and heavy, puffed-up sighs. He will crawl up your body like a predator until his face, soaked with your juices, is hanging over you.

Mingi is a big man—tall, strong, and nicely pumped up—his stunning figure completely covering you and trapping you underneath him.

You gasp for breath, still in a hazy post-orgasmic stupor, your glazed eyes meeting Mingi's, and you whimper as big, rough hands slide down your sides. He easily encompasses your boobs with ease, squeezing them with a force that causes them to fall out from under your bra.

"What big, juicy tits you have. Mmm, you can't be a better doll." Your embarrassed squeal is swallowed whole as Mingi kisses you passionately. Your tongues meet in an exchange of saliva and heavy breathing. On his lips, you can taste your own slime. It's rough, but you like it that way.

He slides his hands under your bra and massages your breasts, pinching your nipples with his fingers in a teasing way that makes you moan loudly into his mouth.

"The most beautiful and seductive pair of tits, so soft and heavy in my hands, I could just fuck them, couldn't I? Would you like that doll?" He whispers as he bites down on your lips and sinks his teeth into the soft, tender flesh. To be honest, he'd like to tear your lips into a bloody mess, but that's probably for another time.

Right now, he wants to use you. He wants to finally get his cock inside you and fuck you into a stupor. As if you could read his mind, your trembling hands reach out for his crotch.

"You want my cock, darling?" He moves his hips gently, and you feel his huge, hard cock pressing against you through the fabric of his trousers.

"Yes, yes, I want your cock so badly, Mingy." You're not as shy as you used to be; your desires are overpowering your modesty. And you don't have to ask twice as Mingi leans back and quickly unbuckles his belt, and you reach out for it, drawn to his sensual lips. 

You would never admit it, but his lips were driving you crazy—those gorgeous, plump lips—moist and inviting, making you want to suck on them like a leech and never let go. You wanted to feel them all over your body.

Mingi quickly unbuttoned his trousers. Your tiny hands grabbed his shirt collar, trying to pull him as close as possible, and you licked his neck with your soft tongue. He's never met anyone so desperate to be touched. The way you whimper into his neck, kiss him randomly, and smear saliva over his lips and chin drives him wild. You're definitely his favourite—the best girl he's ever fucked in recent times, if maybe ever. He should tell the members about you; he should let them hear your beautiful, needy moans with the endless repetition of his name; he'll shove your wet panties right in their faces, damn it.

With one firm hand, Mingi holds you by the waist while the other pulls his boxers down until they are low enough for him to pull out his thick, aching cock. Running his thumb over the swollen, wet head, he squeezes the heavy length into his palm. You whimper and look up at him with your eyes wide open as his fingers grab your chin and pull you away from his neck. So perfect you look—dishevelled, tits bulging from your bra, skirt crumpled, and gathered around your hips as you desperately grab his shirt, trying to pull him as close as possible.

Mingi's desire is to destroy you completely.

"On your knees, dolly."

You are so relentless in your desire to please the man who is in front of you. As you obediently lower yourself to the carpeted floor—rough enough for your delicate knees—Mingi's hands run through your hair. You're too mesmerised by the sight in front of you—a gorgeous man, a world-famous idol, by the way—stroking his big cock lazily, looking too amazing to remain indifferent.

"Do you want to try it?" You drool. The only answer you can give is an impatient moan that tells Mingi all he needs to know.   You're so desperate; you've never wanted to take someone's cock in the mouth so much. It would probably be so hard on your tongue because Mingi looks so big.

You're not quite sure if you can take the whole thing or just half of it. You know it'll bulge out of your throat if you do. You're so focused on thinking about it that you only come when the hot head of Mingi's cock begins to circle your smooth, swollen lips. He lets out a deep, low moan and the sound is pure porn. You can bet your bottom dollar that Mingi can make an entire concert hall cum at once just by moaning into the microphone. Fuck, their concerts must be wild.

Your mouth falls open in impatience as you look up at him with your eyes glazed over.

"You are such a good girl." Mingi whispers, holding back a moan as your tongue sticks out to lick the drop of pre-cum that is leaking from the head of his cock. He's sure that you've only been made for sucking his cock.

It's so easy to lead you; you're docile, submissive, eager for pleasure, and desperate for the praise that comes with it. The further your mouth descends onto his cock, the bigger and brighter your eyes become, full of pleading as you look up at Mingy, watching how he reacts, wanting to know if you're doing well. Mingi knows that if he were to send your picture to the members right now, it would cause a universal heart attack. They're absolute wimps for obedient little girls that they can scold and use at will.

"Look at you." He takes a sharp breath and runs his thumbs over your pouting cheeks. You look wickedly adorable, and perhaps Mingi is tempted to shove his cock even deeper down your throat, so that you choke on it and begin to sob. "You bruised your knees just so you could suck my cock. How did I get to be so lucky?"

The stifled moan that you let out is accompanied by a thrust of your hips that makes you feel like you are starting to choke. You try your best to relax your jaw as much as possible, holding back the coughing that starts to bubble up in your throat and forcing yourself to calm down. You look at Mingi through the protruding tears and blink your eyes slowly, waiting for the idol to start to fuck you down your throat. He takes no more than a second to realise what you're proposing.

"Want me to fuck your mouth, baby?" Your strangled moan stops momentarily as Mingi moves his hips again, pushing further into the enveloping wet heat, throwing your head back as you accept his heavy, massive length without complaining. "Damn beautiful, such a pretty cock slut."

Your lips tingle around the suggestive girth, and your cheeks are warm from the praise and effort you've put into his pleasure. You look so dishevelled right now, saliva dripping from your chin down your neck and between your heavy tits falling out of your bra. Your knees are red from rubbing against the rough carpet, your eyes are wet and red from unshed tears, and a small puddle of your secretions is also collecting underneath you, dripping freely from your quivering cunt. You haven't even been fucked yet, and you probably look as fucked as you feel. Even though you have every hope that you will be soon.

When Mingi suddenly yanks you by the hair and pulls you away from his cock, you make a half-squeaky sound and look at him with a crying, hurt look on your face, as if your favourite toy has just been taken away from you. Mingi leans down and pulls you to him for a dirty kiss, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and licking it from the inside to the outside as he tastes himself. 

It may be disgusting, but your moans are enthusiastic, and you enjoy every second of it.

"You're so beautiful, dolly. What am I going to do with you?" His words are breathed in through searing kisses, the lips sliding together at random, smearing saliva and mucus all over. Damn, this is unrealistically hot—all of his fantasies coming to life in a beautiful girl who just happens to be sharing a compartment with him on the night train. "Maybe I should have you with me for an introduction to the other members? How would you like it if I were to fuck that obliging mouth of yours off in front of the whole group?"

Enjoying his praise and such a tantalising prospect, you whimper again. Being their whore isn't such a bad option, to be honest; as long as you're fed and well fucked, it's enough to have fun.

"I can't seem to keep my hands off of you, sweetheart. You're literally a pollination." Mingi's deep, velvety whisper tickles your ears. He reaches out to take the palm of your hand and cradle it against his cock. 

It's a heavy, hot length, resting perfectly in the palm of your hand, and you long to feel it inside of you. It's big, big enough to send you to heaven with every thrust, and the big head hits you right on the cervix with every thrust of those skilled hips. God bless his dancing skills, because, as you know, dancers can fuck like gods.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" You gasp as Mingi's big hand glides over yours, both of them sliding up and down his hard cock in a confident manner. "With your beautiful eyes and the beauty of your face, Perfect, sweet lips, perfect for the sucking of my cock." He bites down on the torn lower lip you have bitten and kissed and pulls it into his mouth, then pulls back to give you a chaste kiss on your swollen mouth. "All of this is just for me."

Leaning completely on Mingi in front of you, your weak legs have long since stopped supporting you. Your beautiful mouth is open a little, a small whimper escaping from the depths of your throat as you savour the praise that is pouring down upon you. It makes you feel so damn good.

"You are such a delicious girl." Mingi moans as he bites down hard on one of your lips. He turns you around and pushes you in front of him until you find yourself pressing your face first against the fogged-up window. You look out, eyes wide open. There is nothing on the road, just wide fields whizzing by in a fast, blurred image. But something about the thought of somehow seeing how Mingi is fucking you stupid in front of windows makes you wet. Your pussy clenches against nothing. You arch your back and your plump, soft arse, trying to rub against Mingi's cock.

His commanding hand pulls one of your buttocks back to reveal your wet cunt and virgin anal opening. Fuck, you look so delicious. He thinks about pushing his face into your pussy once more and licking you until the morning comes. Next time, he says to himself, shaking his head in the hope that the urge will go away. His hair is falling down over his eyes, giving him that same vicious look that makes their fans go crazy for them. 

"I'm going to fuck you like this." Mingi whispers, clenching the lobe of your ear with his teeth. "You'll be a good girl, and you'll be quiet for me so that nobody else can hear how good and how deep I'm fucking you. Do you understand me?"

The rough, big palm slapping your mouth muffled the impatient moan you made as the head of Mingi's cock pushed your sticky folds apart from behind.

"What I told you, doll. If you want to feel me inside you, you need to hear it. I can tease you all night long and play with your lusty little pussy if you are naughty." His words are disapproving and you do a quick nod of understanding. You're going to be good for him. You know you can. You will do everything Mingi asks of you and fulfil his every wish.

Mingi continues to tease you, enjoying the stuttering moans that are muffled by his hand as his cock slides between your folds, rubbing against your clit but never penetrating you. The bulging head of his cock clings to the edge of your throbbing hole and you want to start begging for it. It's agonising, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration at how much you want to feel the thick, long Mingi's cock inside you.

"Have I upset you, doll?" Mingi cooed at the sound of your sobs. "You want my cock so badly. Don't you?" Confirming his words, you nodded mindlessly. "Baby, you know how much I love you; I can't upset my fans." One second you're empty, needy, and throbbing with anticipation, and the next Mingi's thick cock is shoved deep inside you, your oozing hole struggling to get used to his massive size.

A wheeze bursts from your lungs at the intensity of the thrust, your breasts pressed against the window. Your nipples are hardening from the cold of the glass and are becoming even more sensitive than they were before. It's so painful and so good that you're on the verge of tears.

"So perfect, if only you could see the way your beautiful cunt is taking my cock in. I thought you'd have to be stretched for that, but what a pleasant surprise; you don't need it." The sultry purr makes you roll your eyes. His voice is a damned aphrodisiac, making you dumber and wetter, your juices squirting around his cock with every sinful move he make of his hips. Mingi fucks like a god; you were right about him.

You whimper weakly as your nipples rub against the cold glass of the window. Rationality has left you completely. Drool flows freely into Mingi's palm, which is still clamped over your mouth. Your legs turn to jelly as Mingi holds you with a strong arm around your waist, sliding hard in and out of your wet cunt, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Somewhere far away, your mind is foggy. All it can think about is how good you feel and how much you want this to never end. It's like you're addicted to a drug and you need more Mingi—more, more, and more.

The narrow, velvety walls of your vagina close in over Mingi's dick, pulling him inside and holding him in what feels like a soft vice. Mingi's low, deep moans, the slapping against skin, and the loud, rhythmic squelching echo around you. It's so damned loud, even when he's holding back, and you can't help imagining what it would sound like elsewhere. This must be in their dorm; the rooms are soundproof because he's a terribly loud, whining, moaning mess.Two long fingers slide into your mouth and onto your tongue. You gurgle around them, sucking hard, the cold of the rings burning you, and it's so erotic.

"The best for me." That's all Mingi has to say to you before his thrusts get faster and faster, becoming almost aggressive as he presses you up against the window, his muscular thighs slapping against your plump arse.

All you can do is take what you're given and lick his fingers deep into your mouth as his massive cock fucks the life out of you. You throb and whip your juices around him. As your orgasm hits you, you rest your head on Mingi's shoulder. You arch up and shake with your whole body. Mingi's cock is still thrusting into you. He is having a hard time moving because you are squeezing him so hard. He doesn't stop hitting you, he moves his hips in a calculated way, hitting that special spot that makes you want to see the stars. It's almost mocking. The intense stimulation is searing, almost maddening, as if you're stuck somewhere between heaven and hell.

"That's it, doll. You look so beautiful when you cum so hard. Maybe I should fuck you on stage before all the fans, so they can see what a pretty face you make when my cock is so deep inside you." Teeth sink into your shoulder, and you give a weak whimper. "Or maybe you want me to film it so that I can jerk off any time I feel like it? Tonight I'm going to watch you cum over and over and over again."

Mingi seems to really mean what he says, because it's pretty clear from the way he keeps moving inside of you that he won't be satisfied until he's gotten a few more out of you. His endurance is something rabbits would envy. Mingi fucks like an animal, but it's fucking splendidly.

You squeal in overexcitement and run your hands over the window in front of you, leaving a trail of fingerprints all over the glass. You moan loudly as Mingi comes out of you, your used-up, reddened hole shrinking in the emptiness as you instinctively try to close around the hot, massive length. He has literally broken all the men in your life. How the hell are you going to be able to have sex with anyone else after this?

You'll be in need of rehab for the rest of your life.

He pulls you by your waist like a real doll. You find yourself on the lap of a cheeky idol. Your hips are shaking, and you are trying to hold on to him, clutching at Mingi's broad, muscular shoulders with your hands. He stares at you with a lustful, wet gaze, his eyes gliding over every curve and every mark he's left on you. And Mingi isn't finished with you yet.

"Now let's plant you properly, baby." As he pushes you onto his cock, his hands grab your arse and spread your cheeks. The squelching sound is loud and sickening as you sink down onto him completely. Mingi presses his hand on your belly as the head of his cock protrudes from under the thin skin of yours. "That's right, you take me so well. Your cunt is the perfect place for the warmth of my cock to be. Don't you think so, dolly?" He's almost purring like a fucking cat, and you're not thinking anything; you're just mindlessly nodding along to everything he says.   You moan longingly as he circles your hips, and you settle comfortably on his cock. You're so full that he presses against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp for air. With Mingi's help, you begin to rise and fall, slapping your arse against his muscular thighs, your mouth ajar, your eyelashes fluttering, and your chubby cheeks wet and hot. You're pure sin. Your legs are too weak to ride Mingi properly, but the idol doesn't care; he's doing fine on his own, guiding your hips as he pleases and driving his cock into you with powerful, deep thrusts.

As he hits you in all the right places, making your toes curl, you see stars behind your closed eyes. You sob openly, your slippery lips pressing against Mingi's neck in an attempt to muffle your moans. You whimper about how good it feels, how deep it goes, and how he never wants to stop. With each thrust, the round, wet head comes to rest against your cervix.

You shudder and squirm in his hands as Mingi presses his fingers against your swollen clit. You can feel it; you're so damn wet. You're flowing like a waterfall, all the way down the length of Mingi and probably all the way down to your balls, forming a puddle on the seat beneath you. You don't want this moment to end; you feel so full and satisfied.

He can collar you and drag you all over the world if he wants to, just so you can keep feeling that gorgeous cock inside you.

"Now! I'm going to cum now, Mingi!" You squeal, pressing your hand to your mouth and bouncing up and down in spite of the tension in your thighs, your tits jiggling with every move you make. Aydol leans forward and catches one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his hot, silky tongue around it as he licks it. Are all rappers that good with their tongues, or is it just something that Mingi does? So you come for the third time that night, your head thrown back and your muscles burning as you continue to be fucked mercilessly. You contract and throb relentlessly all over the thick length that has been pushed deep inside you.

It's a lot, so damn much, but Mingi is still insatiable. To be honest, you wonder where all this sexual appetite comes from with such a constant workload. He could probably go at it with you the whole night through, changing position after position until you pass out.   Mingi isn't enough; he isn't full enough to be finished with you.

He turns you over on your back, and you slam your back into the uncomfortable seat. Mingi is still so hard; the head of his cock is a fierce shade of red; his balls are throbbing; one more orgasm from you, and maybe he'll finally let himself come and make a real mess of you. The prospect of flooding you with his cum would be heavenly for him; you would look so beautiful with thick white jets of cum flowing all over your face. It was definitely an unforgettable sight.

Your walls are on fire as Mingi's cock struggles to get back into the nice velvety warmth, and you shake your head underneath it, visibly shaking your whole body and letting out the most beautiful wet sobs.

"It's too much; I can't! God, Mingi, I can't." Mingi kisses you lovingly to calm you down, and you breathe heavily, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"That's OK, baby; you're OK. You can give me another one, right? I know you can, beautiful doll. Come on, make me cum."

"Just one more time." Your voice is barely a whisper.

"Yes, just one. And you can get some rest. I promise." It's something between a promise and an assurance; the words are little more than reassurance, but you're in agreement.

If you had another member with you, you can't even imagine what it would have been like. You wouldn't have survived. And you wonder how fans keep referring to the idols as cute prince charmers with big innocent eyes. Never again.

Mingi squeezes your plump breasts in her hands and bends her head down so that she can take one of your nipples in her mouth. You're too sensitive right now, and even this action makes your hips tremble slightly. Her tongue swirls around the hard bud until Mingi begins to suck tangibly. You tangle your fingers in the surprisingly soft hair, your breasts rising and falling rapidly as you slowly recover from the hypersensitivity of your last orgasm. Mingi's cock is still warm deep inside you.

His hips begin to move gently, in a slow, erotic rhythm, as his teeth graze your nipple, making you whimper. It is this kind of change that almost gives you whiplash. You wrap your legs around Mingi's slender waist and scratch his back with your nails; it hurts, but in a good way. Deep down, you always knew you were a bit of a masochist.

"Look, baby, you're doing so well. You look amazing." The deep, gentle movements of his hips hit the right spot in you. You jump, and you see white spots in front of your eyes. "You need this, don't you? You need to be fucked until you can't take it any more, you little slut."

You nod desperately. It's exactly what you've always needed. A fuck on the edge of your life is exactly what you need after a string of unsatisfying, disappointing partners, after work and endless errands, after the weariness of the day and the noise of the crowd. And it seems that Mingi does too.

You never expected to intentionally meet an idol, and you certainly didn't expect him to remember your face, let alone your name, but here you are with Mingi's cock from Ateez deep inside you, and to be honest, it's the best thing that's ever happened to you in your whole life.

You're so lucky.

Your eyes are closed, your mouth is open in a silent moan, and your breasts are shaking with every thrust. And just as Mingi expected, the crystal pendant looks amazing between your bare tits.

You are being fucked so well that you can't find the right words to describe it. The contrast between you and Mingi is striking: you're completely dishevelled, shattered in every sense of the word, shivering, your clothes half hanging off your body, while Mingi has only drops of sweat on his forehead with long strands of fringes clinging to them, his trousers still on his hips, unbuttoned just so his cock can slip out, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his hair slightly dishevelled.

In a selfish desire to cum, you are pressed mercilessly into the seat, fucking the rest of your life out of you.

"Cum inside." You whisper, barely coherent. "Please, Mingi."

Mingi growls at this request, losing all self-control at the thought of him filling you with his cum, forcing you to keep it inside you so that all you can think about is him. Feeling him inside you with every step you take. He rubs your swollen clit hard with his thumb, making sure he squeezes the last orgasm out of you. His hips set a frantic, jagged rhythm as he enters your pussy that still flows around him, wet squelches and slaps echoing between you.   It's the final orgasm that finally brings Mingi to his own release. He lets his head drop low as he bites the back of your neck to stifle a loud, prolonged moan, both of you lost in their own pleasure. Mingi's orgasm is so intense that you can feel his cum running down the sides of your cunt, filling you to the brim. The intensity causes him to go blind for a few seconds, and it takes him a while to come to.

This is new. Even for him.

Mingi finally pulls back to look at you. He coos softly as he notices how broken and completely fucked you look.

"That's my girl. You did great, doll." He whispers in a low voice and leaves soft kisses on your bitten skin. His lips are like soft, fluffy clouds—very soft and delicate.

Your vision is blurred and your mind is a mess, and you don't seem to be able to function properly anytime soon, but the only thing you're sure of is how content and satisfied you feel right now. You whimper pitifully as Mingi comes out of you, trying to squeeze your hole to keep the cum from leaking out. But it's inevitable; a small amount leaks out of you anyway in a thick, creamy mass.

"Let's get you cleaned up, doll, so you can get some rest afterwards."

Despite the sperm leaking out of you, your head tilts helplessly to the side as Mingi helps you put your clothes back on. He seems to be enjoying the sight, making no effort to wipe it off. Disgusting, yes. He doesn't give a fuck. Nobody ever said he was a nice boy.

You cringe at the sensation. But the knowledge that it's Mingi's cum gives you endless perverse pleasure. You're tired, too exhausted to want anything more than to sleep. You still have hours of travel ahead of you; you must rest before Asa meets you at the train station.

Mingi notices your condition. He has already straightened your clothes and picked up your mobile phone from the floor. The recording is safely stored in a private folder. It is protected by a complex, multi-digit password.

"Y/N, you can sleep now. I'll keep an eye on you." He laughs as he says that, because that's exactly what he said before he started fingering you. But this time, he really means what he says.

"Whatever you want to say." You reply with a smile and finally take off your shoes, which are uncomfortable as hell, and curl up into a ball. "I think, thank you, Mingi. You know, for the sex."

"Don't thank me; I'm kind of totally into you."

"Good night, then."

"Dream about me, Y/N."

By the time you wake up, the train has already arrived at Tamagawa Station. As you would expect, Mingi is nowhere in sight, but your duffel bag is on his seat opposite you. He's not a complete bastard, after all. You pack quickly and fly off the train, straight into Asa's warm embrace.

"Hey girl, you're finally here. God, you look tired and exhausted." If she only had a clue...

"Long night," you reply simply with a shrug of your shoulders.

"Well, let's go. The hot springs are waiting for us, and I hear there's a famous group staying at this resort right now. Maybe we'll meet some of the idols." Asa is terribly excited and is dragging you by the hand in the direction of her car.

You vaguely remember what Mingi had said about him and the boys coming here to relax before their concerts. But you don't even know if they stay here or not, and this is a big resort. What are the chances?

When you get into the car, the only thing you can think about is Mingi's dried semen on your thighs and where the hell your knickers have gone. 

On the next day.

"This is it; I can't stand it any longer. How can you stand it??"Asa whined as she climbed out of the big hot tub with the bubbling hot water. She was all flushed, the pretty pink bathing suit clinging to her body like a second skin, until she changed into a fluffy white dressing gown.

"It's hot springs, Asa. That's the point.."You rest your head on the padded side and laugh at her pained expression. It's a beautiful resort, after all. "Go on. I'm going to be here for a while."

"Yes, don't get boiled alive; there's no one to save you. We're the last ones here tonight; you can sit here alone all night." You realise that Asa has already left, her voice coming from somewhere far away.

The hot water relaxes you, and you feel so good, warm, and comfortable. While enjoying your own moment, you close your eyes.

The next time you open your eyes, there will be a piece of fabric dangling in front of your face, or rather, is it a pair of panties? Cream-coloured silk with a delicate ruffle around the edge—it's definitely a pair of panties. It's your panties! Oh, shit. You turn sharply around and sail away from the edge to look into a face full of a seductive grin and the most gorgeous cat-like features.

"These are yours, aren't they?" The voice sticks to your skin like a kiss of love, so honeyed and sweet. Shocked by the situation, you nod your head stupidly, not knowing how to choose your words. "Oh, I finally found you. You know, Mingi has told us a lot about you, y/n." The man slips easily into the hot tub, unfastening his white dressing gown, revealing a chiselled, gorgeous body. For your taste, too close. He corners you unceremoniously, putting his hands on either side of your face, his wide shouders completely blocking you from seeing. "I'm San. But you already know that, don't you, baby?" He literally whispers the last word in your ear, sending a shiver down your entire body and hardening your nipples, even though the water is warm. "You know, we're resting here before the concerts start. It would be really nice to have a pretty kitty like you to keep us company."

Belatedly, especially when San's lips begin to trace a light path down your neck, you understand the meaning of his words.

"Us? I don't understand." You give him a slight push away from you, but he doesn't move an inch.

"To us, of course, you silly kitty - Ateez. You see, our leader is very interested in making a personal record of all your cute little sounds." He leans over to you and whispers in your ear in a conspiratorial manner. "We had a lot of fun listening to how you cum, kitty."

This is a big resort. You remind yourself. What a possibility, you say. You see a satisfied, anticipatory smile on Yunho's lips as he waves sweetly at you from the other side of the hot tub. He is such a sweet boy. Yeah sure, you absolutely believe it.

Looks like you got lucky. After all, what are the chances of getting to meet not just Mingi, but the whole of his group?

#ateez #ateez smut #mingi x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #kpop smut #ateez mingi #mingi #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez fanfiction #ateez hard hours #atz smut #song mingi #mingi smut #ateez fic #ateez ot8 #ateez hard thoughts #ateez san #san smut #san x reader #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong #choi san smut #yunho x reader #yunho smut #jeong yunho

[harryslittlefreakk]

arrogant s.o.b

summary: based on this request - grumpy/mean Harry and readers first fight and he says something really harsh/yells and makes her cry? And then feels really bad after like grumpyxsunshine vibes?

warnings: angst

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: thank you to the anon who sent in this request!! 🥰💖 sorry it took me a while to get around to it. please let me know if this isn’t quite what you wanted, i don’t know if I’m 100% happy with it so im more than willing to tweak and rewrite!!!

my masterlist!! please feel free to send me more requests 💓 happy reading

“I miss you, Harry.”

You knew you were pushing it, he was already working himself to breaking point. But you couldn’t help it, you missed your boyfriend. His break was meant to be about finding time for himself again, spending time with his loved ones. And you thought that meant being with you, not spending every day confined to the four walls of a recording studio.

“I can’t delay my entire album because you miss me.”

“I’m not asking you to delay the entire album. Just take a day off, just once.”

“Why?! For what?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Now you were both pissed off. You didn’t understand why Harry couldn’t just slow down. You’d only been able to see him in Italy for a few days, your work schedule unexpectedly busy. Part of you thought he was ‘punishing’ you for that, the sane part of you knew that his summer in Italy was his rest, and now he was back in London he needed to work. Harry’s work ethic was one of the things you admired most about him, and now you were arguing with him over it.

“Clearly it does matter.” He was stood by the door, keys in his hand, a dark scowl printed on his face.

“It’s fine, just go. Have a good day.” The hurt was evident in your voice, but you didn’t even want Harry to stay now with the atmosphere you’d created.

He hesitated for a moment, torn between wanting to stay and needing to leave. Finally, he sighed and turned to walk out the door without another word. The sound of the door swinging shut behind him echoed through the silent room, leaving you alone in your thoughts.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you sank into the sofa. You’d pushed him away when all you wanted was for him to stay. You knew you’d always come second to his career, he prioritised you over almost everything in his life but his music was so important to him. But once he finished recording, there would be interviews and appearances, then a tour, and then you’d be back here again. It was constant, unrelenting, and if he couldn’t even sacrifice one day for you, how could you expect him to slow down?

—

Harry stood frozen on the other side of the door, still stuck between needing to come back in and wanting to go. It never usually got to this point, one of you would back down before someone got hurt. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it worked for you. He hated fighting, hated seeing you upset. But he was only now realising that it was usually you that compromised. He knew you well, and for you to actually speak up and ask him to stay despite knowing how important his work is to him? He’d fucked up.

He leaned against the door, his hand gripping the handle tightly as he closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. Guilt washed over him as he replayed the conversation in his mind. He knew he needed to find a balance between his work and his relationship, but it was easier said than done.

His hand fell from the door handle as he turned on his heel, dragging his feet away from the house. If he was going to make it right, he needed to be armed with all of your favourite things.

—

Harry replayed the morning in his head the entire time he was out. You’d woken up to his alarm as always, rolling over in his arms to wake him up with soft kisses. “Why do you set alarms if you know you can’t wake up for them?” you laughed, tapping at his nose as his eyes fluttered open. “Because you wake up and I get morning kisses,” he smiled, pulling you tighter to his chest.

He remembered how the morning light hit you at just the right angle, illuminating your puffy eyes and blushed cheeks. He’d caught himself wishing he could have five more minutes in bed with you, time to savour waking up next to his love. But he’d rolled out of bed in the same way as always, slipping out from under you just as you tried to curl your body around his.

You’d followed him to the bathroom silently, lingering in the doorway as you rubbed your tired eyes. “Wish I got to see you more,” you’d mumbled, eyes following his through the mirror. “You see me every day, kitten,” he’d replied, poking his tongue out when he saw you watching. He’d noticed your face fall slightly, a misty kind of sadness replace the natural glint in your eye. He cringed as he thought back, but he’d purposely ignored it to save himself the trouble.

“I see you when I wake up and just before bed,” you’d pouted, eyes glued to your suddenly fidgety hands. “I cant help that right now, pet. You know I can’t,” he’d tried to reason with you, and looking back, Harry thought maybe he was trying to convince himself. “Just a morning or an afternoon at home would be nice. Not even a full day,” you’d told him, voice cracking as you looked back up at him.

“I can’t have this conversation right now,” he’d muttered, kicking at the door until it swung closed in front of you.

And there he was now, heart struck with guilt at the thought of how badly he had neglected you.

—

As he heard your keys jingle outside the door, Harry finished rearranging his purchases across the bed. He gave one final look to the flowers on your windowsill, the beautiful blush pink roses he knew you loved. It was perfect, he just hoped it would be enough.

“Hi darling,” he smiled sheepishly as he walked down the stairs.

“Hi, H,” you replied, brows knitted as you stared at him. “What are you doing?”

“Come,” Harry murmured, reaching out a hand for you to take. You dropped your bag by door and took it, fingers tangling with his as he lead you back to the bedroom.

He stopped outside the bedroom door, pulling you into his arms. “M’sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “Didn’t think about what it’s like for you. I need time with you just as much as you need it w’me.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you told him, cuddling into his chest. “Nothing to be sorry for, pet.”

“Shouldn’t have pushed you like that,” you murmured, eyes closed as you breathed in his musky aftershave.

“Gave me the push I needed. M’not good at taking time off.”

“Don’t have to tell me that,” you laughed, stepping away from him as he turned to open the bedroom door.

“Got you your perfect day,” he smiled, stepping out of the way so you could see his creation.

All your favourite snacks were laid out on the bed, your matching pyjamas folded on the corner. The most beautiful flowers you’d ever seen in your favourite vase on the windowsill, candles lit on your nightstand and a cheesy rom com loaded on the tv.

“You did all of this?” you cooed, a grin spreading across your face as your gaze turned to Harry. He nodded, pulling his t-shirt off.

“Nuh uh,” you swatted his hand away as he reached to pick up the pyjama top. “Only my perfect day if you’re topless,” you smirked, quickly peeling your clothes off to throw the pyjamas on.

You climbed into bed next to Harry, pulling the duvet up to your chin before wrapping your body around his, your head at home on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, arms wrapped right around you.

“Made a few calls. Gonna start only doing three days at a time in the studio, then three days off,” he whispered, grinning when you immediately whipped round to look at him. “Don’t have to do that for me baby,” you gasped, brows furrowed.

“It’s the right call. Just gonna be longer days but worth it all if it means more time with you,” Harry winked, his hand caressing the curve of your waist.

You shifted upwards, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” you smiled. “And congratulations.”

Harry returned your kiss, his lips lingering just a second longer than yours had. His touch and his kisses felt like home to you, his smile your lifeblood. “To me? For what?”

“To us. For our first fight,” you giggled, holding out a hand to high-five Harry. He grabbed a hold of your hand, using it to pull you even closer to him, until your faces were only centimetres apart.

“Here’s to our first and last fight,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. His teeth latched onto your bottom lip as he went in for another kiss, the rocky waves in your stomach turning to butterflies as his tongue moved around yours.

You pulled away after a minute, settling back into his arms with a smile so bright it could have lit up the room.

“Can’t believe we started the day with you thinking your album is more important than me,” you mumbled, a mischievous sparkle in your eye as you tangled your fingers between Harry’s.

“Millions of adoring fans who’d do anything for me versus one woman? I know who I’m picking,” he teased, laughing as you smacked his thigh with your free hand.

“Maybe they were right,” you whispered, peering up at him.

“Hm?”

“About you being an arrogant son of a bitch.”

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever

#harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #Harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harryslittlefreakk

[dilfl0v3rss]

poly basketball player ony and aran

YES

having two very successful professional athletes as your boyfriends was a blessing and a curse. they were caring, smart, passionate about what they were doing, and gave you everything you could ever dream of having. there hasn’t been a day where you felt any less of the queen you already are and from the outside looking in, these men were calm and delicate when it came to you. always around to keep you safe and happy. you were as happy as can be with them, but every relationship has their issues. the main one in yours was their competitiveness.

“i won nigga get off the sticks and go wash the dishes” aran yelled, pointing to the kitchen where you were standing. you had told them an hour ago to wash the dishes and instead of just doing it, they decided to bet a game of 2k on it. the yelling and screaming coming from the living room irritated you so much that you washed them on your own to try to drown out the noise. as ony walked up to you, his tall figure already saw over your head that the dishes were done. a remorseful look on his face as he leaned down to give you a kiss on the cheek. “my fault mama, thank you” you rolled your eyes, ignoring him before walking towards your room.

this was a constant thing in your house whether it be who dressed better, who was smarter, who should get the bigger plate during breakfast, and the most common, who loved you more.

“i love her so much, i bought her a plane when her flight got delayed” ony smirked as he talked, his big hands rubbing on your back as you laid your stomach on his thighs, the rest of your body laying on aran’s lap. his big hands rubbing all over you ass while he replied. “that ain’t nun nigga. i love her so much, i bought her a house in every state so she don’t ever gotta worry about sleeping in a hotel when my matches are far away” ony rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, giving him a “duhh” look before replying. “how you think she be getting to the houses nigga? she takes the plane….dumbass” aran looked away, an embarrassed look on his face as he thought about what ony just said.

“well my dick is bigger nigga, now what?” the dark skin male laughed, his hand leaving your back to cop a feel of aran's manhood. he gave him a knowing look. “be furreal nigga y'know my shit bigger. that was cute tho” you rolled your eyes, sighing loudly as you got up from the both of them. “ohh my goddd do y'all ever just shut up?” you spit before walking away to your room. before you reached the door a small smirk graced your features as you came up with an idea to help them get along. “both of y'all dicks is little so ion even know why y'all arguing furreal”your words brought a mix of confusion and anger to both of their faces before ony and aran turned to look towards each other. silently communicating there next actions before getting up and making their way towards you. “we gon see about that”

your boyfriends argued almost everyday, using there bantering as a way to show their love for each other. you knew they'd never downplay each others love for you for real, always in the others defense in the media when different blogs would try to put them against each other. they always saved their arguing for when they were in private or in the comfort of their home and when at home there was only one way to shut them up.

“mhmm i know ma” aran mumbled as he listened to your pretty whines. his big hands outstretched on your ass while you made out with ony. all three of you sat on your knees as aran fucked you from behind and you stroked ony's dick in front go you with your pretty hand, your other hand on ony's his shoulder to keep yourself from falling over. “how she feel baby?”he moaned as he felt your hand tighten around him. aran matched his boyfriends moan with one of his own. “good...fuck...real good da” his dick twitched inside of your wet walls as he watched his the darkskin male tightly grip your neck before giving you a sloppy kiss. ony's eyes never left aran's as he let his tongue slide in and out of your wet mouth.

aran knew was ony was doing, purposely teasing him to bring him closer to his orgasm, but he had just the thing for that. his big brown hands gripped your hips before he started deepening his strokes, his pace increasing to get you to moan into ony's mouth just the way he loved. "aauughh fuck papa m'finna cum" you whined, your hand slowing to a stop on ony's dick as you felt your orgasm approaching. before you knew it, there was a hard slap brought to your ass by aran, his thrusts never faltering as he spoke. “don't stop touching him mama, daddy gotta cum too” a smirk grew on ony's face at the interaction, his dick twitching in delight at your obedience when you brought your hand back to him.

you were enjoying every minute of this. letting the men you love take control over your body and bring you to some of the best orgasms you'll ever received. ony squeezed your neck, pulling you from your thoughts as he brought his lips to your ear. “throw that shit back mama, make em feel real good so he can fill you up. you want papa to fill you up right?” you quickly nodded your head, listening to his command instantly. the feeling of your ass meeting his thrusts made aran moan, his release getting closer and closer as he felt your arousal begin to drip to the sheets. your walls fluttered repeatedly as you felt your orgasm begin to rush through you. "m'cummin oh my god m'cumminnn" your pretty cry brought ony to his orgasm as well, his dick pushing out thick streams of cum that rolled down his tip and onto your hand.

aran began to deepen his thrusts, using your release as lubricant to move quicker inside you. “fuck mama ima give you all this nut, hold still f'me” you tried your best to listen, stilling you body from shaking in overstimulation as you felt all of his inches move in and out of you. as aran fucked you, you watched ony make his way to his side, letting you fall to the bed before giving aran a sloppy kiss on the lips. his hand rubbed up and down aran's chest just the way he liked as he continued to let his tongue dance inside his mouth. in no time he was cumming, his thick load shooting into you had he slowed his thrusts. “thank you da” aran sighed as he caught his breath. ony gave him another slow kiss on the lips, his hand still on his chest as he spoke. “of course baby”

as they brought their attention to you, they noticed that you were already asleep. chuckles flew from both of them as they got off the bed to clean up. “where you goin?” aran asked as he watched ony begin to carry your towards the bathroom. “we finna take a bath while you clean the sheets” the brownskin man sucked his teeth before walking towards your sleeping form in his boyfriends arms. “you took a bath wit her last time, you said you was gon take a shower wit me this time after we bathe her together” ony rolled his eyes, before turning back around to go in the bathroom. “that was before you made me wash your dishes nigga” aran opened his mouth to argue but was cut off by your sleepy, annoyed voice. "if y'all don't shut up y'all gon be together on the couch" the two men looked at each other, silently communicating that they did't want to have to share a couch between their big tall bodies.

“my fault ma”

#aot x black reader #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black!reader #aot smut #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon x black!reader #aot onyankopon x black reader #aot onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon smut #aran smut #aran ojiro x black reader #aran x black reader #aran ojiro smut #aran ojiro x black!reader #aran ojiro x black y/n #aran x black!reader #aran x black y/n #aran ojiro x onyankopon #aran x onyankopon #onyankopon x aran #onyankopon x aran ojiro

[elliesstrapon]

Swan princess

!Asshole Ellie Williams x Princess Reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧˚ · . Summary: Your parents had you to be wedded by the time you each turned 20, they had you meet every summer until then, but you just couldn't stand her.

✧˚ · . Warnings: Ellie is a douch bag, rough sex, enemies to lovers, slow burn, erranged marriage, drinking, swearing, oral, over stimulation, eventual genuine wedding, Soulmates, Ellie hates you up until your both adults, major flashback, readers bipolar but i feel like this was me projecting, sorry 😭, NOT proofread.

I need all you to know this is pretty fucking long, feel free to take your time or skip <3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Your first summer out of the castle when you'd turned 5. Your father held onto your hand reassuringly, pointing out at all the wonderful things you had yet to experience. His words you so vividly remembered along the lines of, "one day, this will all be yours to take care of" so sadly, the frown on his face one of the worst parts from those core memories. The rays of light hit your pearl pink dress, the sparkles shifting as you rode on the horse through what now had been the forest. "Papa, where are we going?" Your head turned back up to look at him, a cheerful smile upon your lips, your teeth crooked and white. "We, my dear daughter, are going to meet the one you shall marry one day." His eyes focused on the muddy path way, as you held onto your perfect dress so tightly in fear of it getting ruined by nature's mishaps. The memory had stopped, where what begun was the hatred between you and Ellie Williams.

For you remembered the look on her face when she'd met you. Your father pushed you towards the tall man with the girl behind him, urging you to say hello. The man'd done the same, an overjoyed toothy grin flashing on his face. "Who might this lovely young lady be?" Your dad inquired, just as happy as the man infront of you, "young princess Ellie, no doubt " He urged you again. You furrowed your brows at him angrily, taking the slightest step forward to the taller little girl who stood infront of you. "I'm Y/n" You gritted through your teeth, biting your bottom lip upsettingly, curtseying at everyone disposal. "It's a pleasure to meet you." You finished, a fake smile plastered on your face, pleading eyes for your father to take you back home. Ellie eyed you disgustingly, uninterested rolling her eyes back, the taller man pushing her forward closer. "Go on" he said angrily. "Joel!" She yelped. "Ellie." He eyed her. She scoffed, her attitude already unbearable. "It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.. Princess Y/n.... Ellie" she said poorly, introducing herself, her pinky finger digging in her ear, eyeing at it like it was all she had left to do. She turned back before the man flipped her around, roughly shoving her closer, his patience limited now. She sighed, going back to grab your hand, gently, something you hadn't expected from her insignificantly terrible mannerisms, her finger tips soft, she kissed the back of your hand, your heart had fluttered, from what you remembered, only for a slight second before she pulled away, sticking her tongue out and wiping her mouth, "Ugh, gross!" She cried. You rolled your eyes, the moment of whatever romance that'd be destined to start, passing like the speed of light.

The two of you stood there, your father's smiling at the "perfect match." all you could think about was how unpleasant she was, how she wouldn't understand you, how you absolutely despised her existence. The summer growing to be what you thought was the worst of your life span, the constant bickering and her heavy insults. You ran through the halls of her castle. Joel and your father having not understood nor notice the two of you constantly at eachothers throats. Your dress getting caught in the doors, and tripping over your slippers when she'd attacked you. "You're such a goody-two shoes!" She argued, your cheeks burning red from the running. "Shut it, Ellie" you spit at her. Your dress torn at the hem and your pink slippers stained with shoe marks on them from tripping over your feet. The rest of the summer lasted the exact same, every little thing she said annoying you, and every action you took, she wanted to intervene.

Soon enough more winters and summers went by before you were 12, hiding at the top of the tower, in your room dreading this summer. "Y/n! We can't keep Princess Ellie waiting any longer!" Your father called from the carriage at the bottom of the castle. "Ugh, please, she's barley even a princess!" You shouted angrily, eyeing him from the window, your hair tied into a braid and your nightgown hadn't changed. "I haven't even washed my hair nor changed"you gestured to your hair and clothes. "Gives you all the more reason to hurry" you heard the grin in his voice, causing you to smile the slightest. You redid your braid, finishing it off with a blue ribbon at the end, and quickly slipping on one of you're too many owned dresses. You pranced through the long historic hallways, waving small goodbyes to the servants who'd helped around the castle, leaving out the door to the garden. "Are you ready to leave?" Your father asked. "Yes" you sighed sadly, having to see Ellie again making you feel as if the world were ending. "I don't get why you dislike her so much, she's really such a lovely young lady." He frowned, entering the carriage with you. "Sure, if lovelys the word you wanna use." You groaned, "half the time the only thing she's doing is jumping at me every chance she gets to make my life horrible." Your dad smiled at you, saying you were over doing it. The ride to the neighboring kingdom was joyful, the sound of your laughter echoing through the windows. Once you'd arrived, you'd seen Ellie once more, no better than the previous summers, still as horrid as you remembered. "Hello, princess" she rolled her eyes, whispering into the ear of another girl beside her, it so clearly about you. "Princess Ellie." You gritted. "And who's this?" Your father smiled, Ellie's attitude being replaced with the innocent act she'd always put up to make you seem as if the bad guy. "This, is the friend I made last winter" she grinned. "Dina" she introduced her. You nervously waved at her, not earning much in return but a dirty look from Ellie, you clutched your dress, suddenly feeling very self conscious. "Well, what're we waitin' for? Les go!" Joel said with his thick accent, following him back to the all too familiar grand castle, lifting your dress as you walked over the muddy ground. You followed Ellie around the rest of the day, the two girls continuesly looking back at you as you acted like a dog, scolded if you sat out in the permanent room you had here during the summer. The sun reflected your shadows ever so often, "does she have to follow us around?" Dina turned around suddenly, weirdly annoyed with your presence, her red dress swaying with her hips as she turned. Ellie looked back, her ill-fitted dress steady as her shoes stepped on the hems. Tearing it like colored paper. "I wish she didn't, it's a shame I have to marry her" she said angrily, grabbing Dina's hand, pulling her along to show her the tree house that was supposedly in the field behind the castle, whispering about it as if you couldn't hear them.

You followed them to the tree house, far behind, you almost didn't wanna go into the tree house, till you saw it, it hadn't been there last summer. You ran softly on the grass, attempting to catch up to the girls, finally getting to the ladder, it began to float up, realizing the girl with a dark haired messy ponytail was pulling it up. She darted her eyes at you. "Snowflakes aren't allowed up in this treehouse" she said distinctively. "Oh, fuck you!" You yelled. Giving them the finger you walked off annoyed. "What's her problem?" Dina raised her brow at Ellie, "Dunno, she's like short tempered or whatever" Ellie chuckled, watching you storm off.

When you turned 17, you had your first royal ball, "Ellie!" You called, walking to her room at the very end of the hallway on the very last floor of the castle, you turned the door knob, opening the door aggressively to see her in her loose dress as it'd always been, practicing her archery on an ill drawing of you from when you were 10. "Oh, real mature" you said angrily. "Yeah whatever." She stuck her tongue out at you, you walked towards the target of you, your blue and fancy ruffley dress following closely behind you as your heels clicked hollowly against the old floors of the castle. Your hair effortlessly soft. You ripped it off the wall. "Hey!! What the hell's your problem?!" She spat. "You're a fucking child is my problem." You rolled your eyes tearing it. "What do you even want?" She got up angrily. "The ball" you muttered. "That's tonight?" She gasped. "Yes, everyone knew that" you fixed the straps of her dress unconciously, her breath hitched, suddenly flinching your hand away "get out, I'll fix it myself, I wasn't even gonna wear this" she muttered. "Jeez fine, the one time I try being nice and all you ever do is be a total douche." You outed the room, flattening the lacey blue ruffles of your dress, adjusting your gold heart shaped locket and your finished hair. You walked down the hall once more, waiting for your fiance to open her eyes and act like the princess she really was whether she liked it or not. You found yourself at the entrance of the castle, a strongly built woman guarding the gate. "Strong arms, huh?" You smirked up at her, her face flushing, "Princess." She averted her eyes, meanwhile Ellie watching from afar with Dina. "God she's always flirting with those damned guards" she huffed, the giggling of you and the guard filling the room. "Why care so much? What, you like her?" Dina said, brushing the lose strands of hair from her face. "God no" she said annoyed, fixing her new suit. "Sure seems like it" Dina scoffed. "She can flirt with who she wants" Dina defended you. "Whatever" you turned to see the girls eyeing you warily for you had no clue as to why. You brushed your hand off the guards arm, kissing her cheek. "Guys let's go, we'll be late." You waved your arm at them, calling them over as they obeyed. "Alright Papa! We can go" you shouted to the topless carriage outside. "Perfect, darling!" He smiled, patiently waiting, you carefully lifted your dress running to the cart. Leaving Ellie behind. "You like her" Dina teased. "Oh fuck off, I've hated that ‘ Little Ms. Perfect ’ since I was 5, thats not about to change now just because she went from some annoying ugly duckling to a fucking goddess...or.. whatever." Dina chuckled, "like a swan?" She pressed. "Yeah whatever you wanna call it." She walked to the cart quickly behind you now to catch up, smiling at your father. "Took you long enough" you said. "Shut up" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "We're already to leave!" Your dad called to the people in front, controlling the horses.

You drove up to your palace, the towns people, hundreds, of them cheerfully smiling, waving, throwing flowers from their own gardens, you couldn't help but flash a toothy smile, waving back and holding the hands of the little children being held upon shoulders of their parents, a few sending weird stares at you as Ellie stuck up her two fingers behind your head, mocking you, making some of the kids laugh. "Hey!" You turned, arms over your chest, "will you quit it?! God your frustrating" you sighed, melting back into the leather seats of the carriage.

Soon you'd pulled up at the gates of your castle, the horses in the stable causing a racket, and the ball gowns visible from the windows you'd seen from outside. The dim lights romantic, Ellie exited the carriage after your father, Joel waiting for Ellie to turn and help you down, she ran her hands through her hair annoyedly, grabbing your hand gently helping you down. Your heart fluttering the same the day you'd met when she kissed your hand, despite the hatred you had towards her, your locket glistened under the moon light, and the pins in your hair reflecting the moon itself. "Thank you, but I could've done it myself" you pushed her hand away. Walking alone to the entrance, walking in as the guards at the door opened it for you, you winked at them, the beads of sweat rolling down their heads. "Such a beautiful young women she's becoming" Joel smiled, Ellie turning her head from your direction, the poof of your dress following the move of your hips. "Indeed she is" your dad agreed.

As you entered the ball room, royal families you'd thought close to you came to greet you, compliments being thrown from every direction, the colours of the gowns bright and warming. "So... you and Ellie, huh?" A girl in green said. "Not as charming as everyone thinks" you rolled your eyes. "She's absolutely horrid." Your hands rested in your hips, suddenly warm breath tickling your neck. "Horrid my ass," she came from behind you, aggressively whispering in your ear her complaints. "Attitude problems I tell ya' " she pushed you aside gently. "You would think someone as pretty as her has a pretty personality too, but wasn't raised right... clearly " she sheepishly smiled at you. Your hands fisting the fabric of your dress in the palm of your hand as the girls gawked at her disrespect towards you, throwing shame at your name. "Fuck you" you mouthed to her, walking away annoyed.

You found yourself flirting with the princesses of every country, each one of them better than the last much like the last glass of wine you drank unsupervised. The shawl on your shoulders slipping off, the freckles and goosebumps appearing so clearly. "Look.. I'd give anything to sleep with you, but aren't you betrothed to her excellency, Ellie?" The girl respectfully asked concerned. "Who cares, everyone knows it won't work out." You grabbed her slim waist, suddenly your father tapping your shoulder. "The slow dance, dear." He grabbed your available hand, you measly let go of the girls pink dress, a look of dismay on her face. You internally yelling inside your head at the thought of marrying this woman. Your dad helped you your way to Ellie, her tall muscular build in the center of the room, standing there dreading your hands on her body. "Now don't make a scene, be professional" your dad warned, placing your hand upon Ellies shoulder, taking the empty wine glass from you, "fine... god" you looked up at Ellie, her gaze away from yours as her hands slid down to your waist, holding you firmly. Your hands only placed hesitantly on her padded shoulders.

"Sorry" she apologized, moving her hands gesturing she didn't mean to be weird. "Ellie Williams, THE Ellie Williams apologizing" you teased, her look still distant "would you look at me? No one'll believe your poor excuse of whatever the hell this is" you complained, your hand cupping her cheek, pulling her face to look at you as the band played a soft spoken song. "This is shit" she whispered. "Yeah, well they're all watching, so shut up and pretend you love me for the next annoyingly long 3 minutes of our dumb lives" you said, moving your feet slowly with hers in sync. She looked into your eyes, you realizing just how vivid her green eyes were, suddenly just noticing all the small details of her face, like the mole under her eye, or the scar on her eyebrow, even how uneven her side part was, you almost laughed in her face.

You upside down smiled, cheekily looking away, "what now" she asked, her brows furrowing. "Nothing, nothing" you waved your hand dismissively. "Yeah whatever" softly laughing along with you, not helping herself. For a short period her hands on your hips sent butterflies surging through your stomach, her breath upon your forehead giving you goose bumps as you twirled and spun around the room, your dress swinging satisfyingly as you forgot the crowd of people around you. "You know, your presence currently is... slightly more tolerable than usual." You whispered, "That so true, now?" She widened her eyes, spinning you into a dip on the slow and steady beat of the song. "Surprisingly." You giggled, admiring the equivalent of stars splattered across her scab cut face from training, your heart increasing every so slightly. You almost felt yourself falling for her like a fool. "If you weren't such a massive whore and flirt to every girl you met I might've actually been in love with you by n—"

"Excuse me?" You interrupted her. Angrily, stepping on her foot. "Ow— what the fuck?" She yelped. "'No what the fuck'd you just call me?" You let go of her immediately. The gaze of people returning to just you. "Well I'm not wrong." She admitted honestly. "Oh yeah— as if you don't do the same, Ellie!" You cried, pushing her away, almost tripping over your dress. "Why do you always do this?! What's your fucking issue? Can you not act like a decent human being for once?" You rolled your eyes, crossing your hands over your chest as she stared at you almost fearfully. "The only reason you're fucking dance with me is because if you didn't we'd both get shit for it! To think I almost fell for that shitty act of yours." Your eyes started to swell up with tears glistening in the light threatening to spill. "No fucking shit! Why'd I like you if you're always being like this?"

You scoffed, "Fuck you, Ellie." You pulled your laced shawl back up your shoulders, holding it firmly as you ran to your room.

That night you watched Ellie shamefully leave in her fathers carriage, Dina beside her worriedly holding her hand in attempt to relax her, a frown on your face as you'd waved goodbye, you entered inside, your father calmly rubbing your back. "I want to break off the engagement." You said sternly. "But—"

"No!" You bursted, the tears rolling down your cheek onto your already tear stained ball gown. "I don't care about out legacy— we'll get someone else to take over, I refuse to wed her. Do you not understand the severity of what she said to me, father?!" You cupped your mouth, muffling the sobs, your breaths quick and weak.

"At least just give it another year, my love, please consider" your father frowned, the wrinkles on his face increasing by the years. "Love has it's ups and downs, this is bound to happen through your marriage" he tried to reason. "Not when you refuse to do what it takes to fix it." You wiped your nose. Your cheeks red and your eyes puffy. "I'll give it another summer" you reckoned, "but one more slip up of hers and I'm done for." You darted your eyes, your tone serious.

"Very well, my dear" he hugged you, whispering a low "I love you"

"I love you too" you hugged him back, holding back the frustration tears.

You wanted to lose your mind atleast a hundred and fifty times before meeting Ellie again. The dreaded summer you'd not been waiting for, not by a long shot. Your father repeatedly thanked you, the carriage dropping you at the front gate of the castle with your dad. Joel standing smiling at you, Ellie up in the castle possibly spying on your every move, and if she was, you wouldn't have been surprised. "I'm really, really sorry for the way things endin' " he apologized, hugging you closely. "Don't worry Joel, it was a misunderstanding.. You know.. like Papa says.." you chuckled, the stupidity of last year's events getting to your head. You stepped foot inside the castle, barley missing anything about it but the guards. "Ellies up inner' room if you wanna go.. y'know" he pointed to the grand staircase. Your father gave you the look, where you didn't have to go, but if you didn't, the disappointment would be unbearable.

You went up the steps to the last floor, out of breath your 2 inch heels making you wobble, you found yourself hesitating at the door, unable to turn the knob before you heard the sound of suckling, heavy breaths, and deep sighs, you almost felt you were about to throw up. The anger boiling inside you, you could've just left, slept it out, or argued with her, tiring her out instead. You aggressively pushed open the door, nearly breaking your nails, the sight of a woman on top of Ellie, her nightgown barley even worn on her body anymore and the soft fingers of Ellie's you'd felt one too many times on your body for your comfort on the girls hips. "This just keeps getting worse and worse, doesn't it?!" You exclaimed angrily. "Fuck." Ellie sighed, her eyes wide as the woman got off top of her, adjusting her lingerie before rushing out clumsily. "What the fuck do you want?" She got up, sitting straight, all left of her, her loose strapped bra. "What do I want?" You mimicked her, suddenly stomping towards a pair of clothes, throwing at her almost bare chest, you grabbed her as she finished clothing, gripping her forearm tightly, you dragged her downstairs, the sound of your loose dress waving in the air and your breaths heavy, you stopped at 2 of the 3 dining rooms until you found your father. "I'm out!" You complained. "I refuse to marry her, I'm done." Your tiara crooked off the top of your head, Ellie gave you a dirty look. Pushing you off of her. "But —" you continued. "I'm not going to marry someone who doesn't love me" you hallored. Throwing her an angry and disapproved look. "I want to leave, and I never want to see her face again unless it's news of whoever she's betrothed to next cause they're in for a rude awakening." You insulted. Not a word escaping her lips, but a few gasps from Joel. His heart along with your father's crumbling to the ground like a shattered plate. "I'm sorry Papa, but I can't." You sighed. "I'd like a carriage to bring us home as early as possible, we have important decisions to make, I'd rather be in the comfort of our castle rather than a scums." You walked to your room. Packing the things you'd left during the winters for the summer, all of it coming to an end. It almost made you upset, you were overjoyed, yet angry, at how you almost fell for her, if she hadn't said what she did that day at the ball, you would've sworn you'd forgotten the rotten history of your past.

The next morning you left, concluding the last time you had seen Princess, Ellie Williams, your ex fiance.

You hadn't seen Ellie in two years, and if you were being honest, your life had become healthier. It was like it'd always been but without the stress of Ellie constantly making your life a living hell, you'd been in a few relationships, none of them lasting and neither one of them being ‘the one’, you picked up on your hobbies, helped your father around the town, rebuilding the castle and re-doing your room, and at the very best making friends of your own.

"Princess" the guards entered the dining room as you read a book, munching on freshly picked strawberries from the garden out back. "Yes?" You smiled, turning your head to look at her. "One of your friends are here, requesting to see you" the guard said. "Oh thank you, tell her I'll be there in a second" you stood up, patting your pink dress of the strawberry seeds, closing your book. "Very well, your excellency" the gaurd rushed away, leaving you adjusting you hair before walking through the halls rapidly to see your bestfriend.

"y/n!" She shouted, waving at you, her pale dress falling beneath her ankles and her cardigan slipping off her shoulders. "Elisa!" Your lips growing into a grin, "I didn't know you were coming!" You ran towards her, engulfing her in a well needed hug, "you didn't get my letter?" She giggled. "Goodness, no." Your arms fell from her waist, playing with her hair. "What a surprise!" You squealed. "No! The surprise is what I have to tell you!" She grabbed your wrists, her smile wide. "I just had to tell you in person!" She said. "Must be important, huh?" You said, pulling her inside the castle, your dresses meshing against eachother. "What is it?" You asked, taking her out to the garden. "Well.." she began, you took your seats at the small table centered with a bouquet of lilies. "The neighboring kingdom.." she began, your heart skipping the beat at the sound of it. "Y'know.. King Joel, princess Ellie.." you scoffed. "Some princess" you rolled your eyes. "No, but, listen!" Elisa waved her hands, "they're hosting a ball, every royal, andd towns people invited she exclaimed excitingly, her, herself just a wealthy towns person. "Oh, goodness," you paused, "in what honor?" You asked curiously, "Princess Ellie hasn't found someone to marry yet, Kind Joel's saying there hasn't been one perfect match since.." she trailed off. "Not surprised." You tucked your hair behind your ear. "What's it to do with me, though?"

"wanna come as my plus one? Just for fun! Of course" she asked overjoyed. "Elisa.. I don't know.. you know how things ended—" you said, resting your head on your hand. "Please! We'll stay away from her at all costs." She begged you. You pondered over the decision, looking for reasons you should and shouldn't be going before deciding it might've been fun. "Fine!" You said warmly, "but if anything goes wrong.."

"I know!" She smiled. "Alright," you agreed "it's tomorrow night, you might want to get ready" she said, getting up quickly. "Now I've got to go get prepped. I'll see you tomorrow?" She pushed in her chair. "Sure will, need me to see you out?" You asked. "Nope, all good, I've been here so many times I know the hallway like the back of my hand...... Sort of" she waved you off as a guard took her away. You stared into the distance, watching the geese and doves fly profusely over the sunset, suddenly feeling like going for a late night walk in the woods outside the town.

You found your way around the castle to your father, asking him for a dress fitting early tomorrow. Afterwards going onto put a long warm coat, white fluff fulfilments along the rim of the sleeves and hoodie, a moon stone as the button that clipped at the top. The coat itself a heavenly blue. You'd left the castle, quietly walking through the town, street lights flickering and the youngest little children running around in packs as their parents watched over them, curstying after you.

You watched the constellations ever so brightly in the sky, everyone of them dusted across the midnight blue, the sparkles of them vividly reminding you of Ellie's freckles, you subconsciously counted them the summers you met her. It made you sick. Moreso the thought of having to see her again rather than counting the freckles new every year. In some ways, you felt crushed by how you so easily could've moved on from the one you were ‘destined’ to marry, break it off, and still not have found love. It was like a curse, thinking of how in every universe, you hated her guts.

You're gaze softened at the lake you'd come to just through the forest , 2 swans tangled in eachothers embrace, their feathers white as snow, a heart lazily untangling as they swam side by side, neither one of them moving further apart than 3 inches from eachother. You sighed. Looking at the locket you'd owned since 15, it heart shaped, a swan engraved on it. "Oh how I love swans" you whispered. You made your way up to the castle a little more than an hour later, the moon fully above, it reflecting off of windows you stepped by.

Once you woke up in the morning, you'd gotten your dress fitting done, choosing a baby blue ball gown, the sleeves falling elegantly off the shoulders, lace and jewels falling across the corset of the dress, pearl necklaces to go with the locket you held so dearly, and glittery high heels. You'd gotten your hair done not far long after, your white and silky house coat sliding against your hair softly, the maid had put your hair in a half up-half down look, strands of hair still lazy left out, framing the shape of your face precisely the way you had liked it, she finished it off with a jeweled tiara matching your gown.

The day'd passed the sunset almost upon you, as you looked into the vanity in your room, your heart beating fast as you slipped on your gown, you maid behind you tightening your corset, tieing elegant bows, you adjusted your sleeves, "Miss, are you alright?" The maid asked, concern in her voice as she massaged your shoulders, watching as your gaze became saddened and saddened the more time went on. "Oh, no I'm fine.. Please, tell the guards to tell Elisa that I'll be down as soon as possible when she gets here." The maid left the room, you put on cherry red lipstick, focusing so quickly on making it perfect, you watched your lips move around blending it out to be softer. "I can't believe I'm doing this" you groaned, slipping on your heels gently, walking out to see Elisa in a bright pink dress, a boa slinking off her shoulders the radiant white fluff falling across her chest, diamonds hanging from her neck and ears. Her hair in a clean bun. "You ready to go?" She said, grabbing your arm as you walked up to her. "You look beautiful" you smiled. Dismissing the question. "Thank you" she blushed. "I was hoping I'd meet someone there tonight, it means a lot you think that" "no of course, I get it" you rubbed her arm with your thumb, circling in the same spot. You hoping you'd meet someone as well.

The carriage drove you through the dark night passing the same lake with the partnered swans, from the night before. "You looking to settle down?" you asked, hands resting on your lap. "I think so, I wanna have children so bad, and I need their future parent to treat them just as well as I would" she stared at her hands "all I really want is a family" the cold coming from her mouth. "I'm betting you'll meet someone amazing" you assured her. The trees swayed in the winds, your hair blowing along with the rhythm of it all, strolling through the ghost town that you'd remembered so full when your enemy wasn't foolishly inviting every person to exist to this horrid ball. You found yourselves at the gate. The castle lit and decorated with bright and gorgeous lanterns. You both thanked the guards.

You shivered walking to the big doors that's been open. Guards greeting every new person to have walked in. "They'll be here all night" you whispered to Elisa. "Sure will" she said, sorry for them.

You walked in the ball room, Elisa disappearing from your arm as soon as you did. "Typical" you sighed. Walking measly around the room, your gown brushing against the others. Feeling small in the crowd. You stood at the food table, eating the crab cakes like your last dinner, stuffing in two at a time before catching a glimpse of a tall build, her hair short, the same hairstyle as you, and her suit dark, a blue rose in her pocket. Talking to a few of the females, the freckles and eyebrow scar unmistakable. You're breath hitched, gulping down the remaining crab cakes, you felt faint, she looked so mature, her smile bright, yet her eyes hiding a subtle hint of pain you'd only notice if you'd known someone for years, regardless how much you hated them. Tucking the loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes suddenly widening before you realized she'd seen you. "Shit" you muttered, she waved off the women excusing herself to walk towards you.

She stopped a few inches from you, averting her eyes from yours as she bowed, a gasp escaping your coated red lips. "Princess" her voice cracked. "Yes— uh, Princess... Ellie" you curtseyed. "You look... Beautiful" she breathed. Gently grabbing your hand to kiss it softly. "Thank you— Did you happen to hit your head or something" you pulled your hand away quickly away from her lips. "You're acting... Strange" you let out a breath you had no clue you'd been holding in for so long. "How so?" She raised a brow. "You're not acting like you hate my guts." You said. "Who said I didn't?" She crossed her arms. "What? So that's changed now cause I'm, ‘beautiful’?" You spat. " 'That such a bad reason?" She scrunched her nose subconsciously, wiping it with her hand. "Get your head out of the gutter Ellie." You stomped away, "fuck" she whispered.

You still unable to wrap your head around when she'd become so.. odd? You flew around the ball room, every 30 minutes seeing her eye you from across the room. As if some kind of snack, you began to feel creeped out, her whispers to an oh so grown up Dina always beginning after she saw your face. Soon you found her asking you to dance. "Ellie, if you're only going to like me because of my looks.. I don't want you to like me at all" you sighed, taking a step back. "Especially considering our history, I mean what is this? 15 years of constant torture and insults being thrown at me for it to just suddenly change? I can't do it Ellie, I really just can't" you said, turning around for a split second, before she hooked her slender hand around your forearm, the slow dance beginning as she pulled you into her, her hand firmly on your waist and the other holding your other hand just above your shoulders. You sighed, "Ellie —" annoyed. "What else?" You said, she held you close, deja vu hitting you like a carriage door, while she span you around the room, the crowd almost not there, you gazed deeply into her eyes. "What else?" She raised a brow confused. "Is beauty all that matter to you?" You asked, pained. "What? No—" she choked on her words. "That's not—"

"Then what else?" You grip on her hand tightening significantly. "I don't know— I mean—" she bit her bottom lip. "No Ellie— save it." You stopped her. "You don't get to do that" you darted your eyes at her, the hatred building up with every step you took, you began to feel frustrated. "Do what?!" She raised her voice ever so slightly, no one heard over the band. "You don't get to like me because I'm fucking attractive now to you. That's just not fair." Before you could react, she grabbed your arm painfully, pulling you of the crowd of people, she dragged you down the hall, unable to free from her grip, you tripped over your gown. "Ellie what the hell!!" You cried, playing with her hand to get you off just before you'd got thrown into the tea room you'd remembered not to fondly, she locked the doors. "Ellie open that goddam door—"

"Would you just listen to me?!" She yelled, you quickly walked up to her, stumbling over your heels as you grabbed the collar of her suit, the blue rose falling from it. "You don't get to have me listen to you! Ellie, I hate you! And you threw this ball so you could find a wife, I am not going to play that roll again, just becau—"

She threw you onto the couch, your big dress wrinkling against it as she pinned you down, her arms caging your head from escape like an animal. You let a gasp escape your mouth. Your heels falling off of your feet in the uncomfortable position. "It's not because of your fucking looks! Y/n!" She confessed. Her one arm falling to her side. "It's the fucking history" her lips trembled. "We spent our whole lives together knowing one day all thats around us would be ours to rule, together." she said. "You know my worst fears, goddamn it, and you threw it away just like that." Your breath hitched. "And I know everything there is to know about you, whether I hate you or not." Her arms at your hips now, subconsciously caging you in again. "Those two years I didn't see you, I thought I missed messing with your fuckin' head and flaring your anger up like I was those 15 years, but I really just missed seeing the one person I spent every summer with up until I turned 18" you felt offended, her back handed compliments confusing you. You sat up warily, watching her gaze turn to guilt as you propped your elbow up against the head of the couch. "What the fuck" you breathed. Her face just inches apart from yours that you could feel her heavy breaths up against your lips. "Ellie—" you groaned. "So what are you saying? You're in love with me? After all that?" You scoffed in disbelief. "Yes!" She cried. Your heart pounded at your chest, the warmth between you suddenly growing hotter. You couldn't understand anything, grasp the situation at hand before you reached your hand up to her cheek, cupping it softly before connecting your lips that were inches apart just a few mere seconds ago. You roughly bit down on her lip, the sexual tension flying off the walls. "What're you doing?" She muffled a moan into the kiss, surprised as she gripped your hips. "Fuck you" you whispered, shoving your tongue in her mouth exploring every inch of her as she delicately whined, her embrace tightening. You lazily pushed her down, hovering above her, "all that shit just for this" you breathed, hooking your lips onto her soft freckled skin, leaving a wet trail across her neck, while you undid her button up, the sounds of her heavy breaths and sighs filling up the room, you sucked at her skin. "Fuck" she whined. Messily gripping a handful of your hair as the sticky path of saliva continued down her collar bone, stationd between her breasts. You abruptly stopped, struggling to undo the bows of your corset. Ellie looked up to you with pleading eyes, "lemme—" she heaved, flipping you over, your clothed ass up on her crotch while you held your hair to your shoulder, her fingers unintertwining the ribbons. You sat on your knees, she trailed kisses down the back of your neck, each and every one rougher than the last, your dress slipping off by the second before she threw it to the ground leaving you with only your panties left. "Shit" she whispered as you turned over, pulling her in desperatly, tugging at her lips between your front teeth. "You're so beautiful" she admittedly whispered between breaks. "Thank you" you, you smirked against her lips. You sat on her lap, sucking at her tongue, her hands roaming your body entirely, she played with your boobs, all the thoughts leaving your mind as you threw your head back. "Fuck, Ellie" you moaned. Her wet kisses filling the room with sinful noises.

Her tongue flicked at your hard bud, it only standing more as she sucked at it, toying with the other one while she still squeezed your plush hips.

"I need you" her lips meeting your stomach, butterflies in your lower abdomen began to scour, the heat between your legs only growing stronger as she praised you, worshipping your body like a goddess. "Why are you like this" your jaw dropped, her hands suddenly palming you through your panties, already soaking, moans escaping from your red stained lips, that matched the pair all over Ellie's neck and jaw.

"Lay down" she demanded, squeezing your ass cheek. You immediately layed yourself beside her, her head stationed between your legs as she looked up at you hungrily, a face you'd never seen her make at you before, she kissed the inside of your thighs, biting at them like dessert as her fingers gently rubbed at your throbbing pussy, your panties still unmoving, "mmh~" you muffled, the hickys between your legs butterfly shaped, she continued to rub at your sweet spot, playing with the tangles in your hair as she kissed you softly. Your heart collapsed in on itself, the gentleness something youd never experienced before. "You're being so... So sweet" you heaved into the kiss, staining her lips in lipstick as she rubbed faster. "You deserve it" she smirked against the kiss, leaving more around the rest of your face. The ball room music faintly heard from outside, your mouth formed an ‘O’ as she lowered her head again. Your conversations severly uncoordinated, responding to questions with only moans and whines. She slipped off your panties, only lowering them as far as your knees, "I'm gonna make you never want to leave this room" she kissed your hickey covered thigh again, before nuzzling your clit with her tongue, you flinched at the contact, an overwhelming pleasure washing over you as your legs shaked, leaving her holding your hips down. You felt your walls tighten, she swirled her tongue, every muscle causing you to tense up, her tongue only deepening. "Oh god—" you reclined back, her teeth softly nipping your pussy. "Feel good, princess?" She said. Rubbing your inner thigh reassuringly as she suckled "fuck, yes, Ellie" you whined. The pressure in your stomach building up, "I'm so... Fuck—!!" She slid against your walls, you cupped her hair, thrusting your hips into her tongue, desperately wanting to release the knot. Your wet folds quivering. "Please, Ellie—" you begged, vibrating underneath her touch. She fingered your clit, eating you out both at once. "Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, Ellie!!" You cried you repeated her name like a god. Giving into your pleasurous desires, the creamy white substance leaking down your thigh "shit!" You cried, all she did praising you through your orgasm, just for her fingers to not lift off once. Still her slender fingers pounding inside of you quickly, the slaps of skin filling the room like paddy-cake.

She sat you on her lap again, grinding your hips over her hand, having you ride her as she moved your waist herself, you too weak, for your second orgasm to wash over you, the couch damp in your liquids. "You're doing so good" she whispered, your fingers digging into her skin like daggers. Your heavy breaths drawn over the music. You came again. Your head falling into her shoulder, she tucked the strands of messy hair off your face, tears staining your Rosey cheeks, and her clothes stained in your cum.

"Oh god.."

PART 2?

I got so lazy towards the end out of fear people would get impatient!! Especially since I promised to post yesterday!! Either way, I will edit eventually if people want me too! I'll be posting part to in the next few days! <33

#tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #reading #ellie the last of us #dina tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #princess reader #ellie smut #smut #tlou smut

[hellfirecvnt]

It's Personal

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

TW: Violence against Y/N (not via Billy), farfetched for the plot, Billy is mean, angst, possible cringe idk. We're all friends here. THE VIOLENCE IS DESCRIBED IN DETAIL FOR THE MOST PART. A little bit non-canon Billy, but if you're reading his dialogue as sassily and as dry as I'm writing it, it's not quite as jarring to his personality.

Notes: I literally just learned about the "Who did this to you?" Trope and now I'm giving it an angsty go. This is not smut, womp, womp. Also, I did the gifs like a picture book so you can kinda see the expression or energy I was going for. Summary: Billy's been an ongoing bully/ nuisance in your life since you met. He's acting a little different after finding out you've been hurt.

"Can you try not to take up half the lecture dick-riding the professor?" Billy catches you as you're making your way across campus. He's always been an issue for you, ever since he moved here your junior year in high school. Now you're both freshmen in college. He'd taken a year off to pursue other outlets, but sometimes you're convinced he did it just to be able to torment you in college, seeing as he was always a grade above.

"What are you talking about, Billy?" You ask with an exasperated sigh. Already too exhausted from studying late the night before to deal with his endless harassment.

"I'm saying every time we have this course, you ask a million fucking questions the whole time," his voice is low, but filled with a palpable hate. Why does he dislike you so much? You've never known. You've never asked. "Try to save your desperation for after class, cool? It's hard to watch," He jabs, speed-walking ahead of you.

Most days, you'd say something back. A quip just as hateful, if not worse. You were his rival in every sense of the word. The two of you even shared the same genre of fashion sense. You stole his spotlight, and he doesn't like it, so he notices when your venom is running low. You're silent the entire lecture, not because of what Billy said to you, but because you're tired.

Your study session only ran so late because you and your boyfriend spent most of the day arguing. The gaslighting is constant, and his moods have become more and more unstable and harder to navigate. You tell yourself over and over that you love him. You've loved him since you were young. He's your high school sweetheart. Andy was on the basketball team in high school and while that type usually didn't take to a hair-metal gal like you, he seemed so smitten when you met.

The room is dismissed and you try to file out long before Billy can make it to the door. He laughs at your desperate attempt to get away. Like a cockroach scurrying away from a suddenly illuminated bulb. You're not fast enough and as he passes you before you reach the exit to the building, he leans over and taunts you in your ear.

"It's about time you listened," he hisses and walks away laughing. You're indifferent. Nothing he says could hurt the way Andy's words do. You tune everything out to make room for your insecure thoughts to take over. You blame yourself for Andy's rapid change in personality. What could you have done to make him feel like this toward you? Your mind is far too occupied by these untrue concerns, that you barely feel the anxiety settle in until you get back to your dorm. It was a bit more pricey on your tuition, but your scholarship allowed you to have a dorm room for yourself. Instead of another bed, it has a small "living room" area.

With a deep, grounding sigh, you reach for the door handle and step inside. Things are fine. Andy greets you with a smile and kisses you sweetly as you set your things down by the door. You're pleasantly surprised, allowing all the toxic thoughts circling your mind to melt away under his gentle touch.

"How was class?" He asks.

"It was fine. Nothing spectacular," you giggle, smiling warmly, overtly relieved that he's not still upset with you. You can barely recall what he was angry about, to begin with. You snuggle into him as you both relax on the couch. He stares straight ahead as he opens his mouth to speak.

"One of my buddies said he saw you talking to that Steve guy," Andy's voice becomes colder, and you realize it was all a trap. You're wrapped in his arms, feeling his body go rigid as you hesitate to answer. "Y/N." He finally looks down at you, meeting your anxious gaze.

"Oh, uh," your throat goes dry. "I did talk to him. He was a little late and just needed the notes from the first section. I charged him five bucks." You begin to ramble, hoping to defuse the situation before he explodes. "He's still going steady with that Debra girl, too. She's in my journalism class. I bet those cookie-cutter losers end up married, honestly."

"You know I don't like you talking to other guys without me." Andy clenches his jaw.

"I know! I completely understand, too. You know I love how possessive you are, babe. It's hot," you're desperate and hopeful that stroking his ego will put this anger to bed. "There were so many people around, so I was thinking nothing could happen." You furrow your brow at your own words. "Your friend was even there to make sure!"

Andy's grip around you tightens, nearly cutting off your ability to fill your lungs just using one arm.

"I don't ask you for a lot, Y/N." His free hand reaches up to your face, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look into his eyes, though you weren't looking away to begin with. "Don't make me look like a fool." When he loosens his grip, your lungs inflate with a loud gasp and his shift in position slides you off the couch, into the floor with a small thud. Now you're angry. The two of you have screamed at each other plenty of times, but how dare he act so bold?

"Andy," you stand, hovering over him where he remains on the couch. His arched brows frame his bright eyes with anger. "Get out." He smirks, and it fills you with unease. Standing from the couch, he takes one step forward, nearly chest to chest with you, if it weren't for the dramatic height difference. He towers over you, stealing the feeling of power you thought you were cultivating.

"What'd you just say to me?" He asks with a sociopathic smile.

"I said," You swallow hard. "Get. The fuck. Out." You barely get a chance to speak the last word of your sentence before a fast, hard open hand meets your cheek, knocking you to the ground, and almost sending you across the room, it felt like.

"Do not ever talk to me like that just because you got caught," Andy's words are full of anger. You stare at him with wide eyes, arching your brow in an expression that asks him who the fuck he thinks he is. He storms out of the dorm, but you know he'll be back. And after these events, you're scared to try and stop him. His college teammates are at every corner, it seems. It's as if ever since Jason went out of state for college, they all bend to Andy's will. Losers. Andy doesn't come home until after you've fallen asleep. You stayed up as late as your body could take, but he wasn't back in bed until 5 AM. You have no idea where he's been.

The next day, it's your misfortune that you and Billy share yet another class. This one was early in the morning rather than yesterday's afternoon lecture. You're running on very little sleep, and the trauma of Andy snapping and putting his hands on you. It's just something you could never even fathom. The way he would kiss the ground you walked on when you first met, how could he? You're more than distracted, staring directly at the floor as you walk until you run flat into someone else in the hall.

"I stood here, completely still, to see if you'd notice. I guess other people don't exist to you, huh, princess?" He mocks you. It's not long before he notices the dark bags under your lifeless eyes and the speckles of red that have risen in the hazy shape on the side of your face. Assuming it's an allergic reaction like you had back in high school, he didn't hold back. "Jesus Christ, Y/N. You look like shit."

"Still look better than you could pull, pussy," you sneer, shoving past him. "Don't fucking make me late." He steps in front of you again, knowing neither of you is late because he's on the same schedule.

"What happened to your face? It looks like your boyfriend had to tell you twice," he bursts out laughing at his distasteful joke. You can feel your blood begin to boil. You no longer wish to exchange hateful comments. Now you want to hurt him. You want to hurt Billy the way Andy hurts you. You can't swing on him, so you take your next best shot.

"Yeah? How many times did your mom have to tell you before she just gave up and left?" You boldly stare Billy in the eyes, hoping so badly that none of Andy's henchmen see the two of you going at it. Billy's jaw is rigid, and you can see it tighten as he grinds his teeth, subduing his emotions. You've never come at him like that, it wasn't expected. His taunting smirk is long gone.

"Are you trying to get your fucking ass kicked, Y/L/N?" Billy's disgusted with himself the minute he says it. Of course, he doesn't mean that. He'll drive you into an early grave, but it's never been in his moral compass to hurt a woman the way his father hurt his mom. He wants to rescind the rhetorical threat, but his ego just clamps his lips shut. Your eye twitches as you wonder what else you've got to lose. Or would Andy hit you again for letting another man kick your ass? Your thoughts are exaggerated and full to the brim with frustration. You finally explode.

"Fucking do it then, Billy! Swing! Hit me, motherfucker!" You drop your belongings and stomp toward him and he's unsure how to react now that you've called him on his bluff/ intrusive thought.

"Calm the fuck down. You look ridiculous," Billy takes a cautious step back.

"No, let's go outside. Let's see how hard you can hit someone half your fucking height, pussy!" You're nearly causing a scene, but the building is empty for the hour. Tears well in your eyes and you refuse to let up, demanding he act on his "big, scary" threat. He won't. He stares at your watery, red eyes. Your face is flushed and only your cheeks, nose, and around your eyes hold any pigment. He essentially waits until you tire yourself out.

"You've gotta do something about that shit, Y/N. You're fucking losing it," he shakes his head.

"I'm not losing any-fucking-thing, Hargrove. Don't ever mistake me for a bitch you can scare off with an empty fucking threat," you spit, grabbing your things and taking off, leaving Billy standing confused in the empty hallway.

"What the fuck was that?" He questions aloud. He has no idea you've been drained with no way to recharge. You've been hurt with no way to heal. To him, you're losing your goddamn mind. After that, he's not even angry at your comment anymore. He's just, concerned? Maybe just curious, really. After all, he's supposed to be your burden. Anything else takes the attention off of him.

The class is long and just like yesterday, you're quiet when you usually never stop engaging. Even the professor notices, and she asks you to linger behind after the lecture is over.

"Hey, Y/N. What's up? You were so quiet today," the professor's soft voice is sweet to your ears.

"I've just been, um, tired." You shake your head, barely convincing yourself.

"Is that a bruise on your cheek, honey?" The kind, older woman asks with two hands resting on her coffee mug. Just outside the open door, Billy waits for you to pass by before he realizes you're staying behind. He scoots as close to the door as he can, flat along the wall, listening.

"A bruise," he whispers to himself, recalling what he thought was a rash. His stomach almost attempts to simulate the feeling of guilt as he remembers the joke he made at you. The one that set you off.

"Oh, no. It's a reaction. New laundry detergent fucked me up," you stop yourself. "Messed me up, sorry."

"Y/N, you're an adult. I can't make you do anything you don't want to do, but it's very clearly not hives," the professor sighs, her eyes full of concern as she stares at the ever-developing bruise as it slowly takes the shape of a hand. "Is it another student at the University?"

"Ma'am, with all due respect, I'm dealing with a lot right now. I will see you on Wednesday. Goodbye." You snatch your things up and zip toward the door, holding your breath. The wind from your speed walking blows your hair back, giving Billy a perfect view of the hand-shaped bruise yellowing on the side of your face. You're too determined to get out of there to react to his eavesdropping, so the two of you just share a look, and you keep going.

Billy furrows his brow. He's unsure you even have a boyfriend, so who exactly is leaving bruises like that right, front and center on your face? After his last course of the day, Billy congregates with his friends at a nearby frat house belonging to a different college.

"Hey, Tommy," Billy calls his friend's attention. Tommy pulls himself away from the group of guys he was laughing with and sits across from Billy. "You know that Y/N girl? Lots of denim, nice ass?" It's not until the last two descriptors that Tommy recalls who you are. Figures.

"Yeah, what about her?"

"What's her deal? She dating anybody?" Billy asks, innocently enough.

"I don't know, man. Why do you always ask me about shit like that?" Tommy laughs.

"Because you gossip like a woman," Billy smirks, standing from his slouched position on the couch and grabbing a beer from the large, ice-filled cooler in the kitchen. "She's some annoying broad in a couple of classes with me. I thought I'd ask around and see if there's a reason she never shuts her goddamn mouth." Both of them laugh at his hateful remark, but it's true to him. You get on his nerves, but it's less what you say, and more so the fact that you do "him" better than him. The men drink irresponsibly and cause a ruckus until late, late at night where they then wander back to their campus/ dorms on foot.

You wake up in the morning finally feeling well-rested for the first time in a while, despite the sudden changes in your relationship. You look over to see Andy's side of the bed is empty. You assume he slept over at the frat house after getting too fucked up. You know he likes to party.

Sitting comfortably on your couch, watching an episode of your favorite show, though it's a rerun, you involuntarily flinch when you hear the door open. Andy slightly stumbles through, laughing with messy hair. His clothes seem disheveled, but you chalk it up to drunken hijinks.

"Hey, babe! Did you have fun?" You ask, smiling, beaming, really. Hoping the sound of his laughter is a sign he's in a good mood this morning.

"Huh?" He looks over at you as if he didn't notice your existence until you spoke.

"I was just asking if you had a good time. Sorry I couldn't go with you, I was just too tired," you laugh.

"Oh, no. It's cool. I like it when it's just me and the guys, actually." His confession makes you a little sad, but you try to understand.

"Got any plans for today?" You grin, letting your guard down.

"For the love of God, dude. Can I get in the door first?" He snaps.

"Okay... Sorry," you quieted yourself down at first, but then quickly realized that's not who your daddy raised. You're getting ready to confront him again despite the smack until you notice something that makes your stomach drop, a small trail of three faint hickeys along your long-term boyfriend's neck. "Babe. Where did those come from?"

"What are you talking about?" He groans, throwing himself on the couch next to you, gripping your thigh possessively.

"I'm talking about the hickeys on your neck, Andy. Where did they come from?" Your voice is low and shaky. "Just you and the guys, huh?"

"Don't start with this shit again, Y/N. I'm too hungover." He dismisses you entirely, and all the rage you'd been holding back to be the "cool girlfriend" comes pouring out.

"You knocked me to the floor for looking at Steve Harrington! You put your hands on me for some made-up story you formulated in your own head and now you're coming home with hickyes?!" The longer you scold him, the darker his expression becomes.

"I'm giving you one fucking chance to get on your fucking knees right now and apologize," Andy's unsettlingly calm. You're frozen. Too scared to be openly defiant, but too angry to fold at his command. "One... Two..." He stands, softly placing a hand on your cheek and sliding it up into your hair, gracefully scraping the tips of his fingers behind your ear. It's so soft and soothing, that the sensation causes goosebumps to rise on your skin. Your eyes flutter shut and just as they're about to open again, he closes his fist around a large portion of your hair and forces you to the ground.

"Andy!" You scream, both terrified and in pain.

"I'm so sick of this, Y/N. I'm sick of you," he growls through gritted teeth, holding you painfully at his side like a heeling dog.

"God damn it, stop! It's fucking over! Fuck whoever you want!" You cry, shifting your position against him in hopes of loosening the pull against your scalp.

"And let you whore yourself out to every other guy on campus? Fuck off. You're mine." He finally releases your hair, tossing you forward in front of him. He kneels down to get closer to your face, speaking lowly. "I heard Hargrove's been asking about you. Think you're safe with your playboy side-piece?"

"He's not my side-piece! Please, Andy. Why are you being like this?" You hold a hand up to defend yourself.

"You think I don't see you two whispering to each other? You think you're smart enough to hide anything from me?" Andy's voice is slowly rising in volume. You worry the other students will hear the commotion. You don't want to lose your solo dorm rights seeing as men aren't supposed to "live" with women in the dorms.

"He's a dick, dude! I fucking hate the guy, please stop!" Your makeup is trailing down your face as you continue to cry for mercy. He shakes his head at the scene.

"I tried warning you. I tried getting my point across to you, but you won't hear me," he sighs as he snatches your hair back into his fist in one, quick, snake-like action. You wail at the aching tug, squeezing your eyes shut from the pain. Just as you go to open them, you see his hand flying toward you. It starts with open-handed smacks, knocking the wind out of you from how bad they hurt, but he progresses until he's landing blow after blow, all over you. Anywhere he can reach as you try to block him.

Eventually, you're badly roughed up, and Andy stands to look at what he's done. The remaining alcohol seems to clear from his system as the reality of his actions sets in.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck," he mumbles, tearing his shirt off as it's stained with your blood. He shoves it deep into the trashcan and disappears to wash the evidence of the horrors against you off of his hands. He returns to where you lie in the living room. He's wearing a fresh shirt and his breath heaves as he stares at your seemingly unconscious body. You're awake though, barely. Holding your breath as long as possible, only allowing the shallowest of breaths, basking in the stillness after the abhorrent beating.

Andy bolts out the door and after a few moments of silence, loud sobs of relief and pain emit from your sore chest. You roll over into a ball, holding yourself close as you process everything. You mourn who you were before the person you trusted most betrayed you. You mourn your relationship, regardless of the last few days. You mourn your own face as you imagine the recovery process will be long and draining. You lie there for a while until night falls.

Once it's dark out, you sneak to the old gym building to use the showers there, hoping to avoid running into anyone and having to answer any questions about your battered appearance. No one uses the old gym because it's full of spiders and has a terrible draft, but it's still open to the students 24/7. It's your run-of-the-mill college basketball court with a weight room and showers.

You get inside the building and listen to the silence of the empty halls. Peace. You're numb now. You've cried all you can, and the pain has become a dull hum. Now you just want to shower and try to find yourself beneath all the blood. You scale the walls of the dark hallway, searching for a light switch. You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel what you can only imagine is human flesh.

"Oh fuck!" You and the mystery person exclaim in unison, startled by each other's presence. Still on edge, you duck down, covering your face. The light flips on and you recognize the sweaty figure who stands before you. Billy. He comes to this gym for privacy in the weight room and always has. Not as confident as his demeanor would lead you to believe.

"Had to be you, didn't it?" He rolls his eyes. "Did you come here to- Oh fuck, Y/N." His uncreative insult is cut short when you lower your arms, revealing the massacre of swollen features and bloody skin that used to be your face. His mouth hangs open for a moment. "What happened to you?"

"Oh, shut the fuck up. Like you fucking care, Hargrove. Get out of my way," you're angry, and it feels like you'll be angry forever.

"Hey," he stops you from walking past him by stepping in your path. "I said what happened?" His voice sounds different. Like you've never heard before. Uncharacteristically concerned, but don't let that fool you. It's still not a lot of concern and it's quite monotoned. His eyes search yours for any kind of answer and it's the least arched his brow has ever been. He's being so... Quiet. You're silent too, stunned by his behavior.

"Thought you were gonna kick my ass too, Billy. You scared now?" Your remark is meant to be a bold taunt, but your voice cracks as you fight for your life to hold back tears.

"Y/N, I'm serious. Who did this to you?" He asks sternly, losing patience by the minute. You still can't seem to trust him enough to open up, so you look down at the ground in silence. "Fuck it. Come on." Billy's long legs float him swiftly down the hall and you hesitate to follow, ultimately deciding all these years arguing with Billy have at least felt better than the last three days with Andy. He leads you to the empty men's locker room where he retrieves an old first-aid kit and a bottle of water from the coach's office, then he makes his way to a locker and retrieves a clean shirt. It's soft and worn in and has the name of your university written across the front.

"Thanks," you mumble, taking the box and other supplies from him. You douse the shirt in water and begin to try to wipe your face clean. There's no mirror, so you can't quite tell what you're doing, causing you to scrape over your open wounds and flinch.

"Just fucking," Billy snatches the damp shirt from you. "Let me do it." He's careful and thorough as he gently works the soft, wet fabric across the new and old blood covering your identity. You can't help but stare at his eyes as they focus so intently on each section of your face that he wipes clean. Just as he's finishing up, his eyes meet yours for a moment. It's a short, little second, but it felt so drawn out. Billy breaks the eye contact when he sets the shirt to the side.

"That should be okay, for now." He reaches for the kit in your hands.

"I can do it, Billy," you remind him, yanking the box away, rejecting any more gentle touch. It doesn't feel like you deserve it right now.

"Let me help," he demands softly, popping the little tin box open and rummaging around for bandaids and antibiotic ointment. He patches you up and while he's working, you're watching his intense face. His brows are arched and his lips every so slightly pursed. You can't clock what emotion he's feeling. Obviously, he's expressing some sort of sympathy, but he hates you. He always has. So maybe he's just having a human moment.

"What's the matter with you, man? Are you fucking with me?" Your guard begins to rise again. You don't trust your own intuition anymore. You tighten your grip around a plastic pair of scissors from the first-aid kit. Billy notices and releases a laughing sigh.

"No, I'm not fucking with you." He places one final bandage. "You're insufferable as fuck, but I don't think you had this coming." He looks you up and down. That's as close as Billy can get to "comforting" anyone. "Don't stab me with those." He points to your hand and you blush, a little embarrassed by your overly-cautious behavior.

"Why do you hate me, Billy?" You ask, point blank as you release the scissors, catching him off guard.

"Because you're the worst. You're loud, you're egotistical, you're an ugly crier," he chuckles, all too quickly, being put on the spot.

"You're just describing yourself," you knit your brows, quickly wiping the tears from your eyes after his ugly cry comment. "I'm serious. You'd think we'd have so much in common. You hated me the second we met. Why?"

"I don't hate you, Y/N. I'm putting bandaids on your split fucking eyebrow. You're just fun to get a rise out of." Billy closes the kit and tosses it aside with the bloody shirt. It's not news to him that he torments you because of a mix of annoyance and attraction, but you have no idea. What started as his catty attempts to pick you up turned into an all-out rivalry when you were the first girl to tell him to shut the fuck up instead of batting your eyelashes at him. To you, he's just a mean dude. But right now, it's like he's someone else entirely. When he's acting like this, you're finally able to see what makes him so irresistible to every girl on campus. Your rivalry kept you blind to it, but now, you can see his brilliant teeth in his wide, warm smile. You can see his sunflower eyes, framed by long, thick, dark lashes. His jawline, his shoulders, everything about him seems so beautiful to you now.

"Thank you, Billy," you smile weakly. He scans your swollen features and something in him awakens. A possessiveness. Rage ensues. Every opinion of you he's ever had melts away except for his attraction to you. Your voice, your mannerisms, everything he's ever absolutely torn you to shreds for, suddenly he admits to himself that it never bothered him. In his eyes, you're his, even if you're just a target for his teasing, a bit of banter around the school, you're still his.

"You never said who did it," Billy chews his inner lip, trying to keep calm until he gets the information he needs from you.

"It doesn't matter-"

"It matters. Who was it?" His voice is stern and sharp. He's still knelt close to you even though he's done tending to your wounds.

"It just... Happened so fast..." You flinch as you recall opening your eyes to his incoming hand.

"Start from the beginning," the sternness in his voice softens. You give him the full run down. Billy's face remains stone, motionless, but his eyes twitch and flutter with each gruesome new detail dragging him further down to the point of no return.

"We've been together so long. I never thought..." You hold your hands up in confusion, dropping them hopelessly in your lap.

"A name. Now." Billy stares deep into your eyes as he makes his demands. You can almost feel a heat coming off his gaze as it bores into you. It's clear he will not relent until he gets the answer he's asking for.

"His name is Andy." That's all Billy needs before he's standing up and exiting the locker room without another word. "Billy?" You call after him, still sitting on the bench. You finally stand to follow when you don't hear a response from him. "Why do you care?" This stops him in his tracks. He turns around for a second as if he's going to explain, but he never does. He tilts his head with a small shrug and disappears. "Wait!" You call, but the exit door is already closing behind him and he stalks off into the dimly lit campus. He sparks up a cigarette on the way, exhaling a large cloud behind him. Andy better have life insurance.

Billy ponders your question as he makes his way across the courtyard. Regardless of any flirtatious feelings he has for you, this comes down to wishing he could've defended his mother in this same way. He was too small then, he's not now, and Andy's about to face the full extent of that rage extending all the way back to his childhood. For now, it's personal.

You take the time alone to have a quick shower to wash away the blood in your hair and hopefully make yourself feel a little better. You're careful not to get your face wet and ruin Billy's careful doctoring. Once your shower is finished, you grab your bag and head back to your dorm. It's still dark, so you keep close to the dim, yellow street lamps that lead to the student housing. There's a dull hum that vibrates from each light post, it's all you can hear, all you can focus on to make yourself stop thinking about Billy.

Back at your place, you lock the door as many times as possible before shakily taking a seat on the small couch. You flip the TV on, just to have something to fill the silence. Every time someone passes by your door, your heart rate leaps and you lose control of your breathing. After the third or fourth time it happens, you seem to desensitize. Billy's new demeanor he has toward you is all you can think about. The softness of his words, his touch. You didn't think he was capable of it. You curl up, pulling your legs to your chest as you snuggle into the plush cushions, nearly dozing off, trying to remember the way his shirt smelled when he was using it to clean you up.

Billy's hell-bent on getting his hands on Andy, tonight. Crossing the lot, he reaches his car and slides inside. His face is blank as he stares ahead, with only one objective in mind. He follows the sound of blaring house music to a nearby frat house and angrily tears the door open. Wasting no time, he walks right up to the first person he sees.

"Where's Andy?" He asks, yelling over the music. The first few people have no idea who he's looking for until he comes to Tommy. "Where's Andy?"

"Andy from Econ? He's upstairs. Dude's super stressed about something and took a bottle up there. Finals, man." Tommy laughs, but Billy's already walking away before he's even finished his sentence. The entire party becomes muffled beats in his ears as he climbs the stairs in pursuit of the man who made you look like a bad Halloween decoration.

First door, nothing. Second door, nothing. Third door, Billy slings it open and a stressed out, curly-haired brunette man jumps out of his skin.

"Fuck, dude! You fucking scared me!" He exclaims.

"You Andy?" Billy asks, already breathless with anticipation.

"I- yeah? Why?" Billy answers his question by crossing the room in the blink of an eye and scooping him up by his shirt. He slams Andy against the wall, eyes wide with unbound rage. "What the fuck are you doing, man?!" The commotion can't be heard over the party below. It's just the two of them.

"You know how much of a pussy you gotta be to beat up on someone half your height?" Billy strains through gritted teeth. This is a thin reference to what you said to him when he let his emotions cloud his judgment and threatened to kick your ass.

"Wait... Y/N? She's alive? Jesus Christ..." Andy's eyes nearly roll back with relief and Billy looks at him disgusted.

"What? You thought you beat her to death? Then, you just left her there and went to a party?" Billy raises his eyebrows, almost seeming to smile. "That's fucked up, man." He slams Andy against the wall again, harder, to accentuate his point.

"Come on, dude. Whatever she told you-"

"I'm not here to talk about her." Billy silences your cruel, long-time partner. "Right now, we're not gonna talk at all."

"Dude-" Billy tosses the guy to the floor, cutting off his futile begs.

"I think right now, I'm gonna beat the living shit out of you," Billy kneels at Andy's side. "And then I'm gonna go fuck your girlfriend."

Billy lands punch after punch, unintentionally mirroring the way Andy laid into you. The only difference is that Billy's got a lot more size, muscle, and strength training than Andy. He lays into him, pummeling in any way he can figure out to mimic all the bruises and blood he could see on you. Billy grips Andy's shirt by the shoulders and forcefully pulls him to his feet just to uppercut him in the stomach, over and over. Blood and saliva fly from Andy's mouth as Billy hooks his fist up against his stomach.

When he's finally done, Andy's no more than a gargling mess on the floor. Properly bloodied just like he left you. Once again, Billy kneels down to Andy, establishing dominance and reminding him who he's fucking with now.

"If you come near her again," Billy inhales and exhales a shuddering breath as adrenaline continues to surge through him. "I will hurt you. I will hurt your family. There is no hiding, I will fucking kill you." His threat is no more than a low whisper before he stands and leaves Andy to wallow in his filth.

Billy's drive back is short and sweet, but he doesn't trust Andy or his entourage of prissy jock boys, so he rolls his eyes and pulls into the lot in front of the women's dorms, and makes his way to yours. He's always known which one you stay in, though finding out was an accident while he was being snuck in by one of his one-night-stands. It was common practice, hence why Andy pretty much lived with you since he had a shared dorm on the men's side.

He raises his hand to bang on the door, but hesitates, knocking softly and even calling your name through the door so you'd know it was him.

"Y/N, it's Billy." You smile with relief, still steadying your anxiety from his initial knock.

"Billy? How did you know which dorm was mine?" You question as you pull the door open.

"I knocked on every single one. And asked for you by name. At 11 PM." He looks at you, straight-faced, annoyed that you think so little of him.

"Are you fucking serious? They'll crucify me," you sigh, unsure if you can even feel any more stress at this point.

"I'm fucking with you. I know where your dorm is because I pay attention."

"And here I thought I was so annoying," you chuckle. There's a short silence between you, something unheard of for you two. "Do you, um, wanna come in?" You step to the side, inviting him in. Nervous, but not sure why. He's never had that effect on you before.

"No, you're coming with me."

"I am?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I just stirred up a lot of shit, probably. I don't like the idea of you sleeping here alone." His words are compassionate, but the delivery is so blank, that you'd think he didn't actually care at all.

"Oh, alright. Let me grab some stuff." You gather your things and follow Billy to his light blue Camaro. He opens the door for you, but even he's wearing an expression that says this is a foreign act of kindness for him. He closes the door and takes his spot in the driver's seat. Billy glances over at you, but you're peering out the car window, searching the shadows for movement. The copper-colored light shining from the street lamp illuminates the high points of your face, exposing your expression as he watches the anxiety dissolve into comfort. Something about being the cause of it strokes his already inflated ego.

"You know what?" You break the silence, turning to meet Billy's gaze.

"What?"

"Contrary to the way my face and body look right now, he really can't hit that hard." You raise your eyebrows and nod, reassuring him that you mean that with your whole chest.

"I wouldn't know. I didn't give him a chance to swing." His grip around the steering wheel tightens, but he grins proudly.

"Don't worry, I took enough for the both of us," you joke, earning a shocked laugh from the curly-haired man you positively loathed just a day or so ago.

"I dunno. I think you could've taken him if the circumstances were different," he smirks at you, chin up.

"Oh, absolutely. If the emotional ties weren't there, we'd at least have gone a round or two," you mimic boxing the dashboard. It's obvious to both of you that this is not the case, but making a joke of a bad situation is a lot easier than crying. Billy's relieved, as he would have zero idea how to even approach you if you were crying. He's the "tell you you're not a pretty crier and then wonder why you cry harder" type of guy.

"Matter of fact, put me back in coach," you chuckle, accidentally reopening the split on your lip. "Oh, fuck," you mumble, pressing a finger to the wound, worsening the mess.

"Shit," Billy grabs a napkin from his glove box. "Don't touch it," he snaps. You quickly pull your hand away from your face and for just a moment, your breath hitches in your chest. You don't mean to react this way, you're not scared of him, you hope he knows that. He gives a small smile and a nod, almost like a silent apology for scaring you. He holds the napkin to your lip for you as he pulls into the Men's dorm parking lot. His family, much like yours, paid the extra fees to have a large dorm room all to himself. It was sort of a necessity for Billy considering his short temper and inability to compromise.

"How's your lip?" He asks as you set your overnight bag on his small futon in the tiny living area the solo dorms come with.

"It's fine. I think the bleeding stopped and everything," you smile, keeping it small so as not to pop open another split.

"You can take my bed. I got the futon," once again, his words are so kind and generous, but his tone is flat and bare.

"Don't be stupid. I'm your guest. You've..." You sneer at yourself in disgust as you prepare your next sentence. "You've done a lot for me already."

"God," he stares at you with wide eyes.

"What?"

"It looked like you were gonna be sick from saying that out loud."

"Came pretty close, bud." You squint your eyes. It's clear to both of you that this is weird. It's awkward and even a little uncomfortable. He's done so much for you, yes, and you do feel it outweighs all the innocent hell you gave each other, but where do you go from here?

"So, now what? I sleep here. We go to tomorrow's lectures. Then, I just go back to normal?" You don't want to insinuate that you expect him to play bodyguard forever, but it would be kind of nice. You lie the futon into its flat, bed position as you ask.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there. 'Night." Billy climbs into his bed.

"Goodnight, Billy," you say, lowering the tough-gal front you attempt to keep up, usually when you aren't dealing with shit like this. Your voice sounds different when you let your walls down. It's sweeter. And the sound of it makes Billy's chest light.

In the safety of Billy's dorm, sleep finds you swiftly. You're out like a light, but Billy can't say the same. He lies with his eyes plastered to the ceiling. His mind is incoherent, bouncing all over from the possibility of the entire college sports program jumping him to the thought of you and him going back to "normal." It all started when he saw you, thought you were hot, but learned pretty quickly how self-assured you are. You would never be the easy catch he was used to and it pissed him off, igniting a multi-year feud between you. What if that feud were to end?

Billy lies on his back, his two muscular arms propped beneath the back of his head. He glances diagonally in the direction where you sleep. You're peacefully out, features slowly healing from the damage. He could stare at you all night, and that pisses him off too. He rolls his eyes and expels an exasperated sigh before rolling over, hoping that keeping his back faced in your direction will help shield him from the ambiguous thoughts invading his mind.

The next day, you're awake long before him, and to avoid overstepping, you rush through your morning hygiene routine and begin to reset the futon. You're as quiet as possible, but the second your fingertips graze the doorknob, Billy stirs.

"No," he says, wiping a hand over his face to rub the sleep away. "Just give me a minute. We'll go together." He sounds annoyed. You shake your head, dropping yourself down onto the futon while you wait for him to wake up.

"It's really no rush. I gotta get back across campus to get ready anyways." You call to him as he brushes his teeth in the small bathroom.

"I know you do. I'll drive you, just give me a minute," he waves away your excuses to leave without him, his voice becoming a little harsh as he repeats his request for more time. You know walking across campus isn't a treacherous walk. It's long, sure, but not unmanageable. What's really at stake is you running into anyone from the basketball team. And while that's your main concern, Billy has his own selfish reasons for wanting to keep you around. She's nice to look at, he tells himself, but it's more than that.

He walks from one end of the dorm to the other, wearing nothing but a dark grey pair of boxers. He's so lean and huge with well-toned muscles. He must spend a lot of time in the old weight room. You begin to wonder if Andy's in the hospital or not. Your eyes travel from his broad shoulders down to the V shape at his waist. You're unsure if it's your newfound ability to see him as a person, or maybe a trauma bond, but this man has you feeling out of character.

"Alright, car." He points out the door, using his primitive two-word command to instruct you to get into his car. He's still waking up.

"Billy, you know I could've just come back by myself, right? You didn't have to get up so early." You're the first to break the sleepy morning silence in the car. He looks at you like you've suggested possibly the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard.

"I know that. That's stupid. You're too trusting." Billy stares straight ahead through his black sunglasses.

"I guess," you shrug, not taking anything he says too seriously. How could you after all these years? He pulls into the Women's dorm lot and the two of you approach your personally decorated dorm room door. To your horror, the doorknob opens with ease. You forgot to lock it. A wary breath falls down your chest as you squeeze your eyes shut, grounding yourself before opening the door. Billy's confused until he finally sees inside. It's just as you suspected. The entire room, top to bottom, is trashed- thoroughly.

"What the fuck?" Billy inserts himself in front of you, taking a few steps inside to further assess the damage. His eyes narrow in anger as he catalogs every broken picture frame and demolished knick-knack. You seemed to have had a lot of curiosities and oddities, all of which were destroyed on your equally ruined floor.

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, I'm gonna lose it," you whisper, exasperated. You place your fingers on your temples and apply gentle pressure in hopes that it'll do any fucking thing for the way you're about to break the fuck down right now. "They want me to fuckin' lose it." Your voice is nearly inaudible.

"Hey, okay. Don't... Lose it. Let's go find 'em and beat the fuck out of 'em." Billy grins, still bloodthirsty. It's as if defending you almost feels like having you.

"I'm gonna get dressed. I'm gonna fix my fucking hair and makeup. And we're gonna go to our goddamn morning classes. This afternoon, we will figure out which one of them is getting their mom's severed middle finger in the mail."

"Sure thing, Killer Klown. That's not at all an overreaction." Billy shakes his head, laughing at your misfortune, though he does feel for you. You disappear into your restroom. It's miraculously, for the most part, untouched. You do a quick version of your usual big, glamour hair and slap on your makeup. It feels good to look like you again, even with the scabs and colorful bruises threatening to peek through the foundation. When you return to the common area, looking and feeling more like yourself, you radiate a type of glow. Billy catches himself in the very initial stage of staring but quickly nips that in the bud. You hardly notice.

"I guess I'm ready. You walking me to class, big guy?" You ask, teasingly.

"I am."

"Listen, I really appreciate everything you've done for me, but this isn't nes-"

"Y/N, have you looked at your dorm? Do you see how every single thing you own is destroyed? Stop being an idiot." His harsh words carry an air of motivation with them as he scolds you.

"Fine. But you're gonna have to pick up the pace or something," you snap your fingers repeatedly, in a circle to show him it's time to leave, now. He sighs, standing and leading the way out the door.

He walks you to your first lecture and waits outside for the entire hour. You don't know, but he actually doesn't have any classes today. He just knew you'd make a big deal out of it if you knew he was going any more out of his way than he already is. All 60 minutes drag by painfully slow, but all the while, Billy notices a few familiar faces casting passing glances into the building, only to suddenly change direction when their eyes meet his. He huffs out a satisfied sigh.

"Don't even think about it," he whispers, staring out the small door window. He glances at the clock, and just a moment before the lecture hall dismisses, he steps outside and waits for the crowd. After a handful of peers pass by, he then walks inside, keeping up his ruse.

"Oh, just in time, I guess," you say, meeting him in the middle of the breezeway as if he'd come from the other end of the college.

"As always," Billy sighs, unbothered, indifferent. You don't mind. It's a peaceful shift from his usual behavior before everything went down. The two of you step out the door and immediately, your eyes meet Andy's. He is standing around his car with his goons. They're all staring, not at Billy, at you. An intimidation tactic that might've worked before, had you not been walking next to a brick wall of a man. As the two of you strut past the bitter sportsmen, you hear Andy decide to pipe up.

"Told you she was a slut. It's already happening," he laughs and his teammates join in. You are unfazed by this sort of insult. Before the trauma at the hands of Andy that you'll now have to work through, you've always been a confident, self-assured person. At least that's all you'd allow anyone to believe. You shake your head at the insult, but when you look beside you, Billy's nowhere to be seen.

"That's pretty bold Andy. How're you healing? Doctor already tell you it's safe to get your shit rocked again?" Billy smiles sadistically as he stalks up to Andy. His crew of bench warmers seems to tighten up, taking a few steps closer, surrounding Andy. Billy can't hold back his laughter.

"Are you guys gonna jump me?" He asks, taunting, grinning as he does. "You think it's gonna be easy because there are so many of you?" Billy's only getting closer by the second, and the confidence of most of the players begins to waver. "Do you think I'll stop if I get my hands on you a second time?" Billy's icy blue eyes are dark with rage, almost black in the right lighting. They bore into Andy's and the two men fall silent.

Eventually, Andy's the one to back down. As expected, of course. And from the look on his face, you'd think he'd just been mugged and told his mom died. Billy smiles, tongue between his teeth as he watches the team climb into their cars. They have a visitors game, so you won't have to deal with them for the next 48 hours at least. As Billy returns to where you wait for him on the sidewalk, he wraps a protective arm around your shoulder. You're visibly jarred by this action, but Billy just stares straight ahead, leading you back to your dorm. He's wearing a self-satisfied grin as each and every busybody on campus whispers when they see the two of you.

Billy's a known bachelor and you're a known bitch. Even his more reoccurring hookups never got the public treatment. And you, fuck you're mean sometimes. Andy liked that about you. You'd be mean to anyone but him, but you guess it just stopped being enough. Even you and Andy weren't exactly "public" with your opposing schedules. You'd only ever been seen together at parties.

You finally reach your room and Billy leans against your counter, silently smiling at you as if he expects you to say something.

"What?" You ask, already starting the clean-up process.

"Just thought a 'thank you' would be in order." He shrugs.

"Thank you, Billy. Please hand me the broom," you groan, pointing to the tiny closet in the kitchen area. He rolls his eyes and carries the broom over to you. You're picking up the larger pieces of shattered glass and placing them into a small trashcan, hoping to make sweeping easier.

"Careful," Billy says as he notices a crack in the shard you're holding. His warning didn't reach you in time though, and the piece snapped, catching the upper part of your palm, slicing it open. "Jesus fucking-" Billy drops the broom and you follow him to the counter where he tears a wad of paper towels off the roll and shoves them into your hand. He stares at you with a straight face, almost like a disappointed parent. You stare back, blinking.

"What?" You ask, daring him to give you a hard time or risk being kicked out of your domicile.

"Nothing. Just getting tired of having to play doctor for you all the time." You release a huff and he smiles, a little sweeter than before.

(Do we want a part 2? Do we still read angst or are we all into smut rn? Maybe sex next chapter. idk.)

#stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove #billy hargrove angst #who did this to you #angst #stranger things #revenge #who did this to you trope #billy is mean #but also not #billy hargrove x reader #tw violence #tw domestic violence #tw dv #graphic violence #billy hargrove x y/n #stranger things angst

[xhollandlilsx]

Red Card - (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Concept- Leah and Y/N have been broken up for months, but things kick off when Leah gets jealous during the game against Y/Ns team.

Warnings - Injuries.

People, break up and makeup.

They fallout, fix it, kiss and carry on. But for Leah and I, we had done that for the last time. We ended things for good a little over 3 months ago, agreeing that we couldn’t keep on the way we were. The constant arguing, the overprotection from Leah and towards the end the lack of trust.

After my signing for Manchester United, after being the top goal scorer in the league, that’s when everything started to go downhill, fans would release photos of Alessia and I, saying how cute of a couple we would be, or fake stories about how a ‘close source’ had admitted we were seeing eachother, despite Leah and I being open about our relationship. It all got too much for the two of us, so I travelled down to London, and we both came to a decision.

It took me over a month to feel a little bit like myself again, Lucy was my saving grace throughout, I had been friends with her since our parents used to go on holidays and we’d find any grass we could and kick the ball back and forth, showing off. She FaceTimed me nearly every day, and forced me to get up.

**********

“You got everything in that bag, Mary Poppins?” Ella asked as I walked over toward where some of the girls were waiting outside the coach, I let a smirk cross my face and patted the duffel bag I had on my shoulder.

“Alright, leave my bag alone. I like to be prepared for anything.” I replied with a shrug and stuffing my hands in my pockets.

“What, like a natural disaster? You got a lifetime of food in there?” She laughed slightly as I raised my middle and index finger, telling her to fuck off.

“We all ready?” Marc asked holding a clipboard and looking over all of us like we were kids on a school trip.

“Are you ready?” Ona asked, whispering slightly to me as she was stood behind me, I knew why she’d asked, because of who we were travelling to play. Arsenal.

I smiled a thin lipped smile before following Tooney onto the coach, sitting next to her as Alessia and Mary sat the other side. I tried to drown out the thoughts that were now flooding my mind, and the anxiety that made me feel sick at the thought of even seeing her face again.

I threw my headphones in and threw my pre game playlist on, it mostly consisted of rock, rage against the machine, AC/DC, Def Leppard so on and so forth.

I crossed my arms over my chest and closed my eyes, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone so they’d start a conversation.

*********

The 4 hour coach journey wasn’t too bad, I’d managed to somewhat calm my nerves, doing some affirmations, repeating to myself that I’m Y/N fucking Y/L/N. What have I got to be nervous about?

The coach pulled up in the carpark and I could see fans waiting behind the fences next to us, my eyes scanned them as I saw a fair amount of United shirts, I smiled and waved before walking over, something we weren’t supposed to do, but I hated the fact they’d waited there for us and nobody’s going over.

They all near screamed when I went over, I smiled and shook a few hands, saying a few hi’s, taking photos and signing one persons shirt. One of the Arsenal security men did come over and try to usher me inside faster.

“You’re such a softy for fans” Ella smiled slightly as she sat on the bench in the changing rooms putting her shin pads and socks on. I kept my puffer jacket on, the badge still over my heart, and my joggers with my initials and number 11 on them. I threw my shins on under my joggers and threw my socks and spare boots on. I rolled my socks right down so they were bunched around my ankles and tied my laces.

“Well I don’t like ignoring them. They came all this way to support us. And waited, it’s cold Ella” I laughed slightly before standing up and pulling the shorter girl with me. I wasn’t too tall, sitting at 5’7, which was a good average compared to some.

“In all seriousness, you ready?” She asked as we walked out of the tunnel toward the other end of the pitch to warm up both carrying our bottles. The Arsenal players were already out here warming up on the opposite side. It took everything in me not to look over, to look for her. I restrained myself, knowing eventually I’d have to see her, being a forward, but as of now, I need to pretend she’s not there. Keep my focus.

“I’m fine El. Grab a ball.” I nodded to her as Alessia walked over too, the three of us throwing our bottle off to the side while we waited for the rest of our team to come out and for one of the trainers.

We started kicking it in a triangle, talking as the stand filled up, I threw my hands in my pockets of my coat as I could feel them starting to freeze, only taking them out to smooth out my hair, my well known two braids into a bun.

“Okay girls, two lines behind the cones” We warmed up, all just taking the piss out of eachother, usual banter for us, before heading back inside the tunnel and to the changing room.

**********

We got into position after Marc announced the starting eleven. As usual I was upfront, we had kick off so I stood with the ball at my feet, my arms freezing off, but knowing I’d warm up after a while, as I love running laps around players.

The whistle blew and the game was off, I passed to Katie, who held it and waited for the Arsenal players to get stuck in. I found myself stood next to Laura, as I nudged her playfully, I had played for Arsenal for years, they were still like a family to me, and I stayed good friends with a few of them, especially Beth and Viv, it was difficult for them not to ask Leah and I about eachother but they tried their best.

“Ella. Ella!” I shouted to her as we were waiting for McCabe to take the throw in, my voice carrying, and harsh, I always sounded angry and authorative, the winger looked at me as I motioned for her to fall back slightly, to which she did, but when the throw in was taken she threw it to Viv who was unmarked, someone who should’ve been picked up by a defender, “Hey where were we?!”

I watched as Ona dealt with it and passed to Ella who carried it as far as she could up the pitch, before passing to me as I was running with her, I wasn’t vain or anything but I knew I was faster than any of the defenders at Arsenal, I was a fast runner to say the least.

I began to dribble forward towards where Zinsberger was waiting with open arms, when I saw a flash of red in the corner of my eye, and a slide tackle came at me, I knew exactly who it was, so when I saw her about to go down for it, I chipped the ball up and jumped forward over her, fast thinking, the thinking that got me nominated for a fair amount of awards. Once clear of her I kicked the ball into the top left corner, only cheering once I knew it had hit the net.

I felt Alessia run over and jump on my back, she had been running with me the entire time, just marked. I smiled and cheered as the fans erupted. I set her down as Tooney came running over and high fived me. I ran back into position high fiving a few of my team on the way, my eyes wandering to her, she looked like she was trying to hide her anger, as she walked back into her position, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. I still felt that anxious feeling but it wasn’t so bad anymore. She was staring at where Alessia’s hand was still on my shoulder.

My heart hurt though, regardless of what happened when we were together or how long we’ve been apart, I still loved her. My heart beat for that girl. That was until the 86th minute, when that flash of red took me off my feet in one of the dirtiest tackles I’d ever seen. Leah could be quite aggressive at times, but I never thought she’d pull something like this, no matter how angry she was.

I felt the air get knocked out of me as I rolled onto my back trying to breathe. Searing pain coming from my side, I felt someone land at my side, Alessia. I was slightly panicking. I had been winded before but never like this. I glanced at the blonde defender once where she stood with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth, not realising what she’d just done in blind rage.

The ref called for the medics as a few of the Arsenal players pulled Leah away and were all shocked at her behaviour. I covered my face with my arm as I tried to take at least one breath that wasn’t cut short.

“Y/N, I’m just gonna lift your shirt is that okay?“ The medic asked as she crouched down beside me, I nodded still not being able to speak, and gripping Alessia’s hand for dear life.

They pulled my shirt up their knuckle grazing my side ever so slightly making me let out a strangled yell, catching the attention of most players on the pitch, everyone looking over wanting to know what the damage was.

“Yeah..” The medic sighed, before waving the others over and signalling for them to get the stretcher. I couldn’t move my torso at the moment, my eyes watered knowing I’d be out for a while, as I let my head fall to the side seeing Leah stood there wiping her eyes, pushing anyone away who tried to touch her.

*********

“Knock knock” I heard someone announce before walking in, it was Ella, she stood there with a sympathetic smile and a bunch of flowers. I smiled and shook my head, “I’ve come take you home”

“Thankyou” I nodded sitting up, hissing in pain, and reaching for my shirt, seeing as though I was just in a sports bra and a big patch of gauze and tape on the right side of my torso. I could see some of the immediate bruising peeking over the top of it.

“How you feeling?” She asked as I stood up from the bed, holding my shirt in my hand.

“Like my ex just fractured two of my ribs.” I sighed with a slight smile, if I didn’t laugh I’d cry.

“Yeah, that was behind anything I’d seen before Y/N/N.” She shrugged, as another knock came from the door and Ella opened it, her face falling as she nodded for the blonde to come in.

“You’ve got some nerve” I shook my head as Ella slipped out of the room without another word obviously not wanting to be in the middle.

“I know, Y/N I’m so sorry I-“

“Sorry ain’t fixing this Leah. Sorry was when you’d accuse me of sleeping with Alessia. Sorry was when you’d call me when angry and drunk at 3am, this isn’t sorry Leah.” I shook my head as she looked down at my torso, where the abs I was so proud of were slightly covered. Her face going pale at the sight of the gauze.

“I know… I messed up, I did and I don’t know how I can fix it.”

“You can’t.” I reached for my shirt and pulled it on wincing and trying to control my breathing while pulling it down, I let out a sigh as she looked down, before looking out the window at the street lights, the time sitting at around 11pm, “I can’t play for 6 weeks.”

My eyes watered, as her face contorted into a look of pain and guilt as she looked away closing her eyes, she knew how much football meant to me. I lived and breathed it.

“I can’t play, and it’s your fault Leah. My god, you know I wanted to talk to you after the game. To tell you, I don’t even know what I wanted to tell you anymore. But now? Leah, in the past 4 months you’ve taken away the only two things my heart beats for…”

“Two?”

“Just go” I shook my head and turned away from her, I heard some shuffling and a pause before, the door opened and closed, allowing me to finally let the tears flow.

Part 2?

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #arsenal women #manchester united women #ella toone #alessia russo #ona batlle #imagine #football #wlw imagine #lgbtq #wlw love #lgbtlove

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 3 - If you could’ve seen

Dp x DC: Regent!Jazz, Vigilante!Jazz

Masterlist Part 2

“If you could’ve seen how I looked yesterday, a hopeless disaster, but I’m getting better at being faster.” -Never Look Back by The Nearly Deads

Jazz wasn't so proud to admit that she had many regrets about her life choices.

Taking the Crown was a fine line between terrifying and glorifying, with the many scars and callouses Jazz now bore from the hours of training (at Pandora's behest) a misgiving that was required for the sake of survival.

Hurting her little brother was the heaviest weight on her chest.

It hadn't been that Jazz meant to cause Danny pain from escaping Amity Park, but he'd already died there once from the portal and almost a second time when her parents the older Fentons captured Phantom in a thermos and strapped him down.

They had crossed a line, the point of no return, and Jazz was done trying to fix her broken family. The moment they cut into Danny while he screamed "I'm alive, I'm alive!" was the renouncement of their right to their own lives.

Jazz had enacted Vengeance for her little brother, the hero in death he shouldn't have had to become. For all the Unquiet Dead and Neverborn ended by the Fentons.

For her lost childhood. For her lost humanity.

Slash, slash, slash went the Regent's sword. Blood spattered the walls of the lab, mixed with the ecto already there from a fight for one's existence.

One slash, two, three Blood is on your hands already. 

Frostbite would later, admist the ice and snow of the Far Frozen, that as a Liminal Jazz had triggered a rage state due to both her emotions and her unintentional ecto-starvation.

It wasn't enough to absorb it from the environment anymore, not with the Crown and summoning her ecto-sword. She would have to consume raw ecto to replenish her levels and diminish the chances of another blackout rage.

(Frostbite and Danny would never know that Jazz was fully aware of her actions.)

(She just didn't care anymore, Danny was more important.)

Danny had healed over the few months they were in Gotham, his incision wound now a grotesque Y-shaped scar over his scrawny chest that would never fade. His ecto-levels were improving with constant exposure to a natural portal, corrupted as it was, and slowly he was gaining back his sense of self.

Jazz didn't talk much anymore, but Danny was all too happy to argue with her- about her ripping him away from his haunt, killing his parents, his friends, and going out as a vigilante almost every night.

(As she had guessed, Danny was relieved that the Joker was dead and not a ghost.)

(He'd never know that Joker had returned as a ghost, but the Regent crushed his core before he could even form words.)

(Both Sam and Danny approved of her trophy though.)

At the other end of Crime Alley, tucked away in a safe house, Jason Todd was dying.

Well, so he thought, as his heart ached in his chest and beat so fast it could almost rip itself from his rib cage.

(If he was a lesser man, he might’ve gone crying to Bruce for help, but not in this life.)

Jason had collapsed on his bed in full gear, sans helmet, as the pain began to wrack his body. Was he truly dying again?

(He wasn’t ready to. Not again.)

And to think his night started so well.

He’d woken up a few minutes before his alarm went off, the hazy dregs of sleep trying to lure him back in, back to the rather nice dream he’d been having.

(Feminine build in bloody armor, a teasing grin, soft lips against his own.)

He didn’t even have patrol that night, his one day off a week he could just relax as Jason, not Jay Peters or Red Hood- only for it to be ruined by the emergency alert on his phone announcing that his murderer had broken free again.

Fucking Joker.

Old familiar rage simmered low in Jason’s gut, but much to his surprise, his vision didn’t tint neon green. No haze of being on the verge of a blackout rage at the mere thought of his murderer.

Nothing.

(What was going on?)

It wasn’t as if the Pit Madness could just be gone, right?

Right?

(Jason Todd was no a fool, the Madness was still there.)

(Just… sedated. Like it didn’t need to boil to the surface anymore where it concerned his murderer.)

And for the first time in a very long while, Jason felt like himself again.

Until the agony began.

A/N:

{I swear I try writing something that’s not angst for once and this is what I get. Great. Well as long as someone likes it, right?}

{Oh and sliding in an AU for Jason too! Not Halfa!Jason, because I’m not a particular fan of how I would write it. But something more akin to what he was when he dug himself out of his grave pre-dip in corrupted Ectoplasm ala League of Assassins.}

#dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc #jazz fenton #I tried writing something more positive and this is the result #more angst for the pile #yay #at least we have the mounted clown head right? #and Jason POV! #Jason is a… trope.

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

Gameboy

Billy Hargrove x Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You didn't think the day could get any worse than this, but apparently you were wrong. tired from work, you came home and had to endure the shouting of your boyfriend and his little sister Maxine. Billy was going too far and you had enough.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: +18 MDNI!! angst, blurb, very bad language, argue, broke-up, sigarettes, threats, intimidation, use of Y/N, no prounons NonBinary!Reader, theme about sex, theme about violence, anger issue, daddy issue, toxic relationship, bad ending. (Please be careful what you are about to read, the themes here are quite heavy and with a bad ending. If you don't feel like it, don't read, thanks)

𝐀/𝐍: My first Billy Hargrove One-Shot. I have to say that he's a character i dont have much interest to be honest, but if you want me to do more one-shots about Billy let me know! Please support new writers and reblog! Im sorry for my english, this is not my native language. Hope you enjoy! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

Fuck, fuck and fuck! You thought in your head when you wanted to scream. You had just left the bar where you worked and you could tell you had had a rough day. Your boss didn't stop tormenting you, by now you seriously thought he was mad at you. But that doesn't mean you stopped trying, moving forward and taking criticism and then improving yourself, but despite this the people around you seem bad every day.

You didn't have to think about it. Absolutely not! Now you would have gone to your boyfriend's house and he will surely console you, tell you that everything will be fine–wait...no. Absolutely not. You haven't done these things for almost two months because of your full-time job and the constant evenings where Billy went out, obviously not caring that you needed him. You tried to talk to him a couple of times to find out if something was wrong but he only answered "I'm fine, we're fine, why are you asking me?" You seriously started to think if you were the crazy one or if tiredness was playing a bad joke on you. Billy seemed calm and sees nothing wrong with your relationship. You didn't say anything. You knew the issues Billy was going through with his father lately, so you let it go and once again agreed with him, and blamed it on the stress.

You got to his door before you even knocked and Billy opened it angrily, which scared you. As soon as he noticed you he took a breath and gave you a simple "Hi" before letting you inside. It often happened that you went to sleep at your boyfriend's house, especially when his father wasn't there. As soon as you entered you felt a certain tension in the air and saw Billy take his jacket from the coat rack. You were about to ask something but the boy with golden curls beat you to it "Leave Max alone, that little bitch won't come out of her fucking room until I say so" With that I left the house slamming the door.

Right from him. He doesn't even tell you where he's going or with whom.

Apparently he had argued with Maxine, his younger sister. You completely ignored what Billy said to you and went to Max's door. You could clearly hear that she was crying and that hurts you. Since you met Max she has always seen you as a second parent: kind, helpful, affectionate and above all loving. You were happy to have this relationship with her and when she happened to argue with her brother, you couldn't help but go and console her or try to resolve the situation. Before knocking you looked around, the house was a real mess, or rather a disaster, all of Billy's things scattered everywhere, starting with: weights, ashtrays, porn magazines and gameboys. Shit...

You still don't understand how you managed to fall in love with an imbecile like him. So handsome with those curls and shining face but also so arrogant, messy and not very polite. You gently knocked on the door “Max, it's me Y/N, can I come in?” You heard the little girl sniff and she agreed. You opened the door and found Maxine in tears and her face completely red from the outburst. Her pillow was wet while her cleres were a shade of red from crying. She was lying on the bed and as soon as she saw you, her breath seemed to come back. You sat next to her while you used your fingers to fix some strands of her red hair.

"Maxine...what happened?" You said almost whispering. It took her a while to answer you but in the end she did "Dad...a little while ago he was here and he was arguing with Billy," she began "I didn't know what they were arguing about but then he started hitting him.. ." Her tone was shaky as she tried to collect herself "Did Dad hit Billy?" You asked and she nodded “Yes, the asshole” okay, you got the point. “I stopped him but after mom and the asshole left, Billy started yelling at me” you raised an eyebrow “Why on earth?” The question of when might be obvious seemed difficult for Max to answer. “I don't know for sure, he just told me that I shouldn't meddle in his business” you hugged her and she immediately hugged you back.

“I'll talk to him, I promise” You said and Max looked up immediately. "No Y/N, don't do it. He's too angry and I don't want him to be angry at you too" you smiled at his sweet thought towards you. Max was now like a little sister or a daughter to protect for you, you wouldn't have let Maxine spend the evening locked in her room even though she hadn't done anything "Don't worry about me, I can handle your brother" Oh well, knowing how to handle Billy Hargrove was a big word, but that didn't stop you from consoling Max and preparing her some snacks to stop her crying.

You laughed and joked and Max had finally regained her smile and as if you were a good parent you put a blanket over her while you turned off the light, leaving Max to sleep peacefully. After at least fifteen minutes, Billy came home with a bottle of beer in his hand, you snorted at the sight. You had been waiting for him all evening and you would have at least hoped that for once he wouldn't come back drunk although he seemed quite sober.

"Where have you been?" You asked as you crossed your arms over your chest. He looked at you with a face that got on your nerves, he was bored.

"I asked you, where have you been" You repeated and he made a small moan and then replied "Outside for some fresh air" You didn't want to ask why he was drunk, you had gotten used to it by now so you let it go. Meanwhile he had thrown his jacket on the sofa.

"Why did you and Maxine argue?" Billy turned to look at you. He sat comfortably on the living room sofa bare-chested while he was ready to light his cigarette which he held between his lips. "Where's Max?" He asked "In her room to sleep after you made her cry" his face didn't change a bit, he was serious and definitely bored "Y/N, I specifically told you to leave Max alone, she was supposed to stay in her room " you nodded "In fact, she stayed in the room, but I kept her company" He let out a laugh and then looked back at your figure "You shouldn't have interacted with her" you shook your head "I'm sorry Billy, but I don't stay at your rules" at that statement he took the cigarette out of his mouth "I just want to know why you picked on her, you know I don't like seeing you or your sister like this"

"It's none of your business. What happens here is none of your business Y/N" you were shocked "Excuse me? You're my boyfriend, what happens to you is a fact that until proven otherwise concerns me too" You took a few steps closer towards the sofa. Billy giggled again and you were sure that the next one he would make would drive you mad "And let's hear, why on earth?" You gave an obvious look "Um, hello? We're engaged Billy, engaged!" You timed the last word well "Oh right, I forgot" he said it in a sarcastic way and now your nerves were getting frayed "Oh, I'm sorry this is weighing on you Billy" you too played the sarcasm card and he rolled his eyes "What the fuck Y/N! Now I have to tell you everything I do?" You nodded quickly "Yes, you piss me off that I have to tell you where I'm going, with who and why otherwise you'll ban me from going out" You almost screamed but then lowered your voice remembering Max in the other room.

Billy had lit his cigarette in the meantime "But that has nothing to do with it -" you stopped him while your blood was boiling "It certainly has something to do with it William!" Your eyes were different, they were like Billy had never seen them and when you used his real name he understood that you were seriously pissed. Billy hates being called by his real name and you knew it very well, you did it on purpose. You wanted him to understand how serious you were and how tired you were of the current situation.

“How dare you call me?” Even though he was drunk, Billy was high and his eyes were fixed on you as they gave you a horrible feeling. They wanted to intimidate you, but you weren't like that and he knew it from the first moment he met you. Even if you were afraid that he would knock your teeth out and then make you spill all your blood until you apologized, but you were brave and you wouldn't let yourself be bossed around.

You pointed your finger at him "Oh no! Don't try to make that angry dick face because I'm the angry one, you understand?" He was surprised by your arrogant response "Things have been going on like this for two months and I can't stand it anymore. You barely look at me, all you do is go out in the evening and you don't even tell me where you're going, but you do it when you're too drunk to drive and I have to pick you up" You started and he looked like he was listening intently "And this happens every Friday night Billy. I come home from work tired and destroyed by those filthy pieces of shit and instead being close to me all you do is complain" He snorted and now gave you a different look. He put the cigarette in the ashtray, even though he hadn't smoked it at all. He seemed calm and approached you smiling lovingly... was it the alcohol by any chance? Or maybe bipolar?

"Okay honey, you're right. I'm sorry, now how about we go relax over there–" you pushed him. You were disappointed. His response disgusted you more than expected "No Billy. You won't play your fucking game on me telling me I'm right when in reality you just want to take me to bed and fuck me the way you like it" his face was back and angry more than first "But apparently the other times you didn't hesitate to open your legs for me" it was cheeky and disgusting and you slapped him. You had become a burning fire and you were sure that you would burn him and his house down "Because I was blinded by a filthy imbecile asshole like you. I thought you loved me..." You felt the burning in your eyes as your eyes became shiny. You were too weak to face the truth but you needed it...as much as you loved that boy with all your heart, he would never love you "Oh so now it's me not loving you?" He said dramatically and the tears came out and this time you screamed "Billy, you never console me and only seek me out when you feel like having sex with me. What did you take me for? A toy? I'm your fucking gameboy by any chance?" He tried to answer but couldn't find the right words and blurted out "Shut your mouth" your nervous system was out of control and you raised your voice again "Not this time Billy! Not after I've opened and closed it as you please!"

Now you didn't care who could hear you or who you would disturb. You were tired. You didn't want this. You wanted a serious relationship with a serious person. You wanted someone who values ​​you and takes care of you when you need it, always available and who doesn't see you as a sex toy giving you false illusions. "Calm down, young lady! Show respect" you looked at him and in front of you you had another person. Not Billy Hargrove, but William Hargrove...the real him. Despite everything he was that and you were sorry for ruining yourself by being around him. You didn't think he would ever threaten you, an attitude you hated and hoped your boyfriend wouldn't attribute to "Wow...now you're threatening me?" Billy later realized what he said and didn't reply "Congratulations Billy Hargorve. You ruined my life. You made fun of me and took advantage of me and used me to please your cock when it got hard and needy. But worse…you became your father” you never thought you would say it, but you did. With that sentence you knew you would unleash his anger and you didn't give him time to react "It's over." You announced and then headed towards the door and exited the house as he yelled after you in anger. You didn't want to hear it or deal with it ever again. You had endured enough and it was time to end it.

You had ended a year-long relationship and you now ask yourself in tears as you walked quickly to your house as you had done. You didn't know that obviously. You will never understand, you loved him, what did you need to know or realize? As beautiful and magical as love could be, it was also blind and cruel. It seemed to be a difficult game where the only possibility of victory was to survive until the game itself got tired of testing you, and then it throws a truth in your face that you would rather ignore. But ultimately it was better to suffer for the truth than to live in something that didn't exist.

Now you needed to get up and continue to live your life but you weren't motivated to move forward and live like you did before working, especially now that the only person you loved was just a liar who loved playing with people's feelings and what's more he preferred masturbating to porn magazines than spending sweet moments with you. Would you have suffered? Yes. And you don't know for how long, but you hoped for little since you couldn't cry and dry up your tears for someone who never deserved you and who the only thing he ever worshiped was your body.

#Spotify #billy hargrove #stranger things #billy hargrove angst #bad ending #billy hargrove x female reader #stranger things billy #max mayfield #billy hargrove x reader #daddy issues #broke up #toxic relationship #stranger things max #isabel larosa #billy hargrove blurb #blurb

[streamingcolors-gvf]

Brittle

Moodboard created by @jakekiszkasleftnutsack

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Summary: Frustrated with the way things are going  with Jake, you decide you have to confront him on how your fwb relationship wasn’t working. 

Word count: 8.5k

A/N: Is anyone else have a series Jake down or is just me? This fic was inspired by The Death of Peace of Mind by Bad Omens. It felt so Jake that I had to do this fic. The smut isn’t too crazy but this has a lot of angst, y’all 💔

**Feedback and thoughts are always welcome and I hope you enjoy this one! … but I’m fully prepared for you all to hate me after this. 

Shoutout to @allieboop @asparrowofthedawn , Katie (jakekiszkasleftnutsack) and @pennylanefics for their feedback, input and support ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption, arguing/toxic behavior, this fic angsty as hell, sexually explicit content/ 18+ - MINORS DNI!!! (Unprotected sex, oral f!receiving, some dirty talk, slight m!dom if you squint a lot)

It had been nearly twenty minutes since the notification popped up across your screen while you were watching a mind-numbing youtube video. You had taken the night to stay in, and taking a soothing hot bubble bath had been on the list. 

The water had turned lukewarm, almost borderline cold at this point with all the foam of bubbles dissolved into the cloudy concoction of soaps, bath salts and oils. You had been fighting the urge to go to your messages to read it, but the truth was - you had already known what it said when you swiped it away with a wet pad of your thumb. 

wyd tonight? come over

The simplicity of the half-assed text only made you angry. The fucking nerve he had to message you something so casual when you hadn’t heard from him for weeks. You could hear the voices of your friends bouncing around your head,  telling you something along the lines of ‘not settling for was than you deserve’. That you ‘should cut out the toxic people of your life’. They were right, but why was it so hard?

Those twenty minutes were excruciating because no matter how much you tried to ignore and cast him from your mind as if he was just a minor annoyance - you simply couldn’t. He had overtaken every thought and feeling since the day you met him. Your dreams, day and night were overfilled with moments you would never have.

Throughout your days you wondered what he was doing, what city he was in, even what he was thinking - if it was about you. The idea hurt you more than you could bear, as the reality was you lying awake in the dead of night crying knowing that he wasn’t. How could he? You thought about him like he was a constant in your life, whereas you were just a fleeting moment in his. 

You could have just blocked him. There wasn’t a doubt that you should’ve, and some days you wanted to if you could. Something, a looming presence that had a grip on your conscience was keeping you from allowing yourself to press that bold red text. You had to give it to him, he had done a wonderful job at stringing you along just enough to keep you hooked, and you were just too scared to finally cut the line. 

The phone suddenly buzzed within the crumpled up towel beside the tub, vibrating away in the buried cloth where you had stowed it to push the temptation away. Reaching over, you picked it up to see the contact across the lock screen. 

A picture you had taken with him months ago, a happier memory in time captured with the two of you together was facing back at you. You let it ring silently in your hand and regretfully slid your thumb across the bar before it eventually went to voicemail.

You held the phone up for a few seconds before muttered a displeased, “Hello?”

He huffed a dry laugh, “So you’re ignoring me now?”

“Jake.”

He breathed your name back into the receiver, husky and warm. His voice was enough to crumble the weak walls you had built, and now they were rubble at your feet.

“What are you doing tonight?”

You pulled your foot from the water, hanging it over the tube to watch the droplets drip down your leg as you hummed in a rather sultry tone, “If you must know, I am taking a bath.”

“Mmmmm…sexy,” He hummed, “I wish I was there to see that.”

“Come on over then,” you blurted out before you had the chance to catch the words. The following seconds of silence caused you to wince, worried that you came across desperate. 

“I have to get up early in the morning,” It was a poor attempt at an excuse, making your heart sink into the empty pit of your stomach. He added, coaxing you with a honeyed tone to his voice, “Besides, I have the California King here.” He released a throaty laugh, “ All the more room to cuddle you with my dear.”

It was embarrassing how easily a smile formed over your lips. You pulled the phone away to check the time, “I dunno, Jake. It’s late and everything.”

He wasn’t about to let you bail out that easily, brining oh the weapon that was sure to make him win.

“I missed you.”

The hour it had taken to get dressed, crawl into your car and drive the distance to his house your body was a blur of mindless actions, as if you had been possessed by some sort of external force. You weren’t even sure how long you had been sitting parked in the driveway, keys in hand as you scrambled to collect yourself before you would ultimately see him again. 

The way things were between you right now weren’t sustainable. There was no denying that. You just worried if you had the courage to confront him on how it made you feel.

You swore to yourself you would stick to your guns, that you would be honest that whatever this arrangement was, wasn’t working for you. With positive affirmations and a few steadying breaths, you exited the car and stepped towards the house. 

Your phone vibrated within the depths of your purse, causing you to stop in your path to retrieve it. The lit screen showed another text message from him.

Just come in. In studio

You slid your phone back into your purse as you approached the front door. It was unlocked when you turned the knob, just as promised. You carefully pushed it open and entered the spacious home. The foyer had been dark as the only light source was coming from dimmed lights from the kitchen ahead. Looking around you noticed everything had been left the exact same since the last time you were here. 

You knew he had invested in a housecleaner given how everything was kept remarkably clean under the small amount of clutter that was so recognizably him. Most of the living space remained untouched given the busy touring schedule of this year. Despite the almost sterile nature of the home, his favorite band posters hung along the walls, books were stacked randomly on different surfaces, even the many pairs of beloved boots kicked off were scattered near the door.  

The muffled noises of his guitar coming from upstairs could be heard through the walls. You kicked off your shoes and padded towards the source, passing by the entrance to the grand kitchen. It had been modernized with the top of the line appliances and stainless steel fixtures, a feature of the home he had been adamant about to the realtor from the start.  

You reminisced to the night he had invited you over to cook one of his favorite meals for you. Cooking was one of his passions, but you were more than surprised by his level of skill. You thought back to when you sat there at that kitchen island, with a glass in hand, watching him move around while listening intently to the processes as he rambled on. The way you laughed together, connected to each other felt so effortless - it was carefree. It was an insight into a life of domesticity between the two of you. From that point on, you imagined sharing this space with him more times that you cared to admit, picturing how you could mesh your life seamlessly with his. 

Looking into the room now, the cold, almost-barren atmosphere was a painful reminder of what you didn’t have. The fond memories seemed like a lifetime ago, slipping through your hold with each passing day. The only thing resting on the counter tonight were a few used glasses along the bottles of varying amounts filled with whiskey. 

You climbed the stairs, and the sounds of him playing grew louder with each hesitant step towards the door of his studio. It was cracked slightly, letting the warm light peak through the small opening. 

You considered turning around and going home, but finally pushed it open to see him playing away just like he had been. All of his focus had been pulled into the guitar, and it didn’t appear that he noticed you. His legs were crossed beneath him under the chair, with one of his feet tapping along to the rhythm. His long, brunette locks of hair were draped over most of his face as the ends swayed slightly as he played. You stood motionless, watching in awe as his fingers moved with ease along the prized instrument. 

The pure dedication, the unconditional love and every ounce of energy he poured into his music was something to be admired - to be proud of. You felt lucky to even be able to witness it with your very eyes. 

After what felt like minutes, he eventually glanced up at you and offered you a soft smile and carefree nod for a glimpse of a second before his gaze was pulled back to his guitar. He was breathtaking, looking just as beautiful as the last time you saw him. The apples of his cheeks were pinkened and flushed, revealing the alcohol buzzing in his system. Those large, dark chocolate irises captured everything you loved about him. 

You thought, perhaps foolishly, that your presence would cause him to stop playing so he could properly greet you with open arms, but he didn’t. He went right back to playing, fiddling around with riffs he had been trying to work out. He didn’t speak, and only muttered curses when they didn’t sound as perfectly as he wanted, making him start over each time. 

Impatience and frustration began to grow rapidly as the minutes ticked by. Your restlessness wouldn’t allow you to sit and get comfortable, leaving you to stand anxiously by the door waiting for him to notice. 

The guilt crept its way up your spine and infiltrated into your mind. If one were to ask, you were supportive of his dream more than anything, desperate to get lost with him, to be consumed by the present and embrace the music around you. That would be too easy and you almost resented him for it. There was no pretending that everything was fine with him, because you knew it would hurt that much more when it came time to leave. 

“Jake.” You tried to push your voice over the sound of the guitar, but he didn’t acknowledge you. 

A break in his playing gave you an opportunity to say something again, and you jumped on it,  “Jake, I think we should talk-“

He was quick to interrupt without even giving the effort to even look at you as he fumbled around with a jumbled series of notes, “Hold on, one sec-“

“God dammit Jake! Would you put the fucking guitar down for one second and listen to me?!” You shouted back at him without restraint, filling the little sanctuary with your unprecedented anger. 

You had every intention of talking your feelings over in a peaceful manner when you came here tonight. 

Something had set you off, making you unleash everything that you had been pushing back for months and months. All the things you stomped out so you could accept without complaint from fear of losing him forever. Right here, right now, you had enough of being second, or perhaps farther down on the list then you realized.

He paused the movements of his hands the second your heated voice rang through the air. Seconds passed in a dreadful silence until he slowly lifted his head, and just stared at you, wide-eyed and void of an expression. With a rather collected, but stern voice, he asked, “What’s going on with you?”

You released an exasperated sigh while jabbing your hand in the air toward the instrument resting on his lap, “Why did you ask me to come over tonight? You’re more worried about that stupid guitar than you are of me.” He flinched hearing the rage bubbling out from you through the shrillness of your voice. It was coming across more like a child’s temper tantrum than anything else.

He scoffed in disbelief as he slumped back in his chair, “Are you fucking serious right now?”

You kicked yourself that you couldn’t just act like everything was great with a stupid smile on your face. Pretending that this was exactly what you wanted all along, that this unspoken agreement was just fine. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, deciding that you’re going to stand your ground, “You know what? Yes, I am. You have barely said anything to me since I’ve been here.”

Confusion painted over his features, causing his brow to furrow while he threw his arms into the air to gesture around the studio , “I thought we were hanging out and having a good time-“

“No, you were having a good time. I’ve been standing here waiting for you to be done.”

He scoffed in disbelief, like he could not fathom that this was a real reason for you picking a fight.

“This is my job. My fucking life, okay?” He lashed back defensively. He had the right to. His dedication to his music was never the source, just the catalyst. 

You shot back with a heavy roll of your eyes,“Trust me, you have made that very clear.”

“What is your fucking problem?” He snapped back at you, and the sudden rise of volume to his voice startled you. Things had escalated quicker than you planned, and this argument wasn’t what you had in mind tonight. 

He stared at you, searching your face with brows furrowed without a trace of that blissful happiness on his face that was on his face minutes ago, like you had sucked it right out of the room in an instant. It only made you realize that this was a mistake given that he had been drinking and that the emotions were far too raw for you to process.

Turning towards the door, you uttered under your breath, “I’m just gonna go. This is obviously a waste of time.”

He called your name multiple times, but you were already out the door without a response. You were already halfway down the hall when you  heard him shuffling to his feet while placing the guitar on its stand. 

“Where are you going?!” He yelled out after you as you stormed towards his bedroom. You didn’t have to turn back to know he was hot on your heels. 

He stood in the doorway, confused at this sudden change in your behavior. You chose to ignore him, frantically searching around the room. “Where are my things, Jake?”

Your “things” probably consisted of a random hairbrush, a very worn sweatshirt he had given you, a tube of lipstick and maybe a half-broken phone charger. Honestly, all items you could live without or didn’t even realize were missing. It was a matter of principle, to make your point that much clearer. 

He huffed out a frustrated sigh while leaning against the doorframe, “Are we really doing this right now?”

Without a hint of compassion, you snapped as you peered into his closet, “Where is my bag of stuff? I want it all back.”

“Can we just talk about this?” He nearly whined, his voice almost as broken as you. Here he was trying to reason with you, to calm you down to a point of understanding, and you were just shoving him off with little to no explanation. There was no arguing about how you were becoming erratic in your actions.

You choked out a sob, fishing for the tiny clasp to the necklace around your neck, “You can have this back. I don’t want your stupid gifts anymore-“

The jewelry might as well have white-hot with how it seemed to burn against your chest. It suddenly felt cheap, like a mockery to your relationship. A sick, cruel joke. 

He expressed hurt at the action by closing the distance between you, making you jump when you felt his hands on your arms, “Would you just fucking stop?! What are you doing?”

You threw him off you, causing him to stagger a few steps back from you, “No! No, Jake!”

“Am I missing something here?” The volume and pitch of his voice was so unlike him, “I thought we were having fun.”

Having fun. 

“That’s just it. It’s all just fun and games to you, isn’t it?”

“Fun and games? What the hell are you-“

You interrupted him with an aggressive wave of your hand, “I haven’t heard from you in two weeks. How is that fun for me?”

He backed into the bed, sitting as soon as his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He combed his fingers through his hair, pushing it from his face as his shoulders fell in defeat, “Baby, I... I’m sorry-“

You cut the apology off, keeping your voice clipped and harsh, “No, you’re not.”

That struck a nerve, making him throw his hands up to let them hit the tops of his thighs with an exaggerated smack, “What do you want me to fucking say? We were on the last leg of the tour. I was busy. I thought by now you would have understood that.”

He scanned over the room, shaking his head as he refused to look at you. You saw how his jaw clenched, how the little crease in his brow formed through his anger.

He was deflecting, but you weren’t about to settle for being the bad guy, not when things had escalated this far. The last thing you were willing to do was back down. 

“How hard is it for you to send a text? A quick phone call? Anything! But what do I get? Oh that’s right… absolutely nothing.  Radio-fucking-silence from you because I never was a priority, Jake. And I’m still not. It really seems like I’m always there when it’s convenient for you.”

You didn’t even see him as you were too blinded by your own rage with the raw emotions spitting out through your clenched teeth.

“That’s not true,” he mumbled, and his eyes scanned the floor as he searched his mind for a plausible excuse to give you, but came up with nothing. 

You broke away and looked up at the ceiling without focusing on anything in particular, blinking back the tears that were trying to spill from your burning eyes and down your cheeks. 

“Would you just come here, please?” He croaked, begging with sorrow painted over his warm brown eyes. They were glassy and red, and the sight of them weighed heavy on your heart. He tried breaking the tension in the room while offering a hand out to you, and your legs carried you a few steps without your brain’s permission. 

You stopped before you reached him, asking through the coat of tears clouding your vision, “Am I not good enough for you?”

His brows pinched together in genuine confusion, “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Is there another girl that loves you more? That fucks you better than me?” 

For a second you regretted your hostility, and that you should have been embarrassed at how easily you allowed your insecurities to seep out. The intrusive thoughts had been weaseling its way into the forefront of your mind from the day you met him. You’ve been adamant about living in denial, convincing yourself that you were strong enough to beat it. 

“Baby...”

You sniffled back the tears as they made it difficult for you to speak, “How pretty is she?”

“There isn’t another woman,” He insisted with a new sincerity to his voice in an attempt to reassure you. 

You knew it was a lie. It had to be. You may have been naive with Jake all this time, but you weren’t stupid about the reality of his lifestyle. That didn’t stop you from wanting to believe every fiber of your being that you were the only woman in his life - that everything he could possibly give was solely for you. 

He reached out for your hand, taking it in his. It was warm and soft, but you tried to rip it away, like it seared your skin once it made contact. You knew if it stayed there, you would fold and crumble into a million pieces. Despite the poor effort to pull back, he had a firm, yet gentle grasp around your wrist. 

“No, Jake,” you protested, voice meek when it crackled out from your hoarse throat. You tried to push him away, to deny the gentle touch of his fingers when they graced your hips. 

His hands tightened around your waist to pull you in closer so that you were standing between his open legs as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

His arms wrapped tightly around you, and his desperate pleas came out muffled into the yarn stitches of your sweater, “Please, baby. I need you.”

You wished you could hate him. God, life would be so much simpler if you could loathe him for how he made you feel, how he had this much power over you. 

As much as you yearned to be wanted by him, you would continue to blame the alcohol running through his bloodstream for his actions tonight. It was a rigged battle within your heart that you were never going to win. 

The embrace was everything you needed, but felt long overdue - a cherished moment too late. You gripped onto his shoulders to break his hold and push him away, “Stop.”

His arms locked around you, keeping himself pressed into you, “Let me hold you, please”

“…Jake,” you whimpered, relinquishing every ounce of fight within you as you swept the fallen hair away from his face, allowing the silken locks to slip between your open fingers. You kept him close, now being the one to comfort him through his distress.

You heard the faint, muffled sounds of what you thought might be him crying - the heat of his uneven breath fanning against your belly, the tip of his nose pressing into the soft flesh. 

“I love you,” he whispered into your stomach, barely loud enough for you to hear over your own crying. 

They should have been the words that would make everything better, to mend what had been wrong between you. But that’s what it was. A verbal band-aid for a problem that would never be fixed. It was just another plea to keep you close and make you stay with him tonight, knowing those were the three words you wanted most from him.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. The confessions of his feelings for you were supposed to be said with purpose, without regret or doubt. It was supposed to be said in a romantic moment that you would keep in your heart forever. Not this. Not a drunken slip up during your first fight that he may not even remember when morning comes.

You stayed rigid in his arms, and you swallowed back the sobs from interrupting your words, “Don’t do that. You don’t mean it.”

A kiss placed at your hip to seal it in. He spoke again, “I do. I love you, baby.”

This was the first time it had felt like Jake was at your mercy, begging for you. Before this, the dynamic was entirely different. Jake was calling the shots with everything always being on his terms. It made you feel helpless, leaving you hating the many restless nights spent silently pleading for his affection. 

What’s one more night? How bad could it truly be? 

While you battled with your internal thoughts, he felt across the thin material of your yoga pants with the calloused fingers, squeezing firmly as he rubbed his hands over the curves of your body. 

Admitting the words back to him would make it all too real. In reality, you didn’t need to say it. He already knew deep down that your heart belonged to him. 

The same fingers that explored their way across your thighs, were now pushing up your light-knit sweater ever so slightly up your torso. You were folding with each second ticking by.

Those full, pouted lips that had been busy whispering sweet, empty promises started placing heated kisses along the exposed skin above the waistline of your pants. A shudder rolled through your spine and you hummed at the feeling, letting the last bit of resistance dissolve with each brush of his lips. 

You melted into his arms to succumb to his enveloping warmth, the softness of his lips exploring over your body, to have his comforting scent that you found yourself craving fill your head again. 

With your fingers combing through his hair to tug him closer, he nipped his way past your navel to right below where your bra rested on your chest. A lustful groan rumbled from his throat as your nails dragged across his scalp. 

A switch had been flipped. Even if what he was confessing to you was ultimately just lust, you were going to take it blindly without question. He was your drug of choice, a bad habit you couldn’t bear to break no matter how hard you tried. 

He offered you crumbs of a relationship and sat waiting greedily for more. It amazed you how he was able to break you into a million pieces, put you back together, only to keep you waiting for it to happen all over again.

Jake broke away from you only to pull the sweater from your arms while he guided you onto his lap. He licked over your chest, biting the swells of your breasts that peeked over your lace bra, making you hiss at the sting of it. His hands left their place around your hips to roam over your back, finding the metal clasps that kept the lingerie fastened to you. For a second, you believed he needed to have you just as much as you needed him. 

You held his face in your shaky hands, lifting it up so you could bring your lips to his. At first, the way he moved with you was gentle and forgiving. He was careful with tender peck, but it all changed the second you flicked your tongue in a desperate search for more. The kiss deepened as his hand found a place on your cheek with the pad of his thumb swiping the tears away. 

You both broke away, panting away with your forehead pressing into his. Desire started to build between your legs, and you began to ache with need. There was so much you wanted to say, but he took the words from you when he started to shower your jawline with kisses, burying his face into your neck. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered across the shell of your ear.

You breathed his name as he squeezed you tighter to rock your hips against his lap. The motion made his breathing quicken, sending hot puffs of air along the tacky skin of your throat. Just as always, he marked you with bites of affection into the vulnerable flesh, leaving painful reminders for you to see in the mirror later. 

Things started to become a blur as if you were pulled into a haze, high off the sensations of his touch. His busy fingers released the hooks of your bra, and the garment fell freely  from your chest, and was thrown into the room to be lost. 

You flushed hot with your skin buzzing from the kisses peppered through the teasing licks down your throat, down to the valley of your breasts. His dull nails dragged across your bare back, making you squirm in his arms.  

You felt him harden beneath you with a deliberate roll of your hips, and you brought your hand down to his belt in a frantic need. He held your wrist, stopping you before you could pop the belt through the metal buckle.

Embarrassment flashed through you. Had you read this all wrong?

Jake smiled against your lips, and cooed softly in reassurance, “Let me worship you.” 

If your heart hadn’t been racing erratically within the walls of your chest before, it was now. Anything intimate with Jake had always been sort of rushed, frenzied passion with him being in control. You sat still on his lap, enamored by this entirely different side to him. 

He held you securely, flipped you around and eased you carefully onto your back so that your head was resting on one of the pillows at the head of the bed. He shifted off the mattress and began to undress as you watched quietly.

The way he looked down on you made you reminisce to late nights spent at the bar, sharing drinks and shutting the world out like you were the only two people to exist. That special glimmer in his eye, the same crooked smile - it was enough for you to entertain the idea of him being ‘the one’. You wished to be back there, to be stuck in the ignorance that it was still a possibility. 

The clink from the buckle of his belt before he whipped the leather through the loops pulled you back into the present. The well-loved t-shirt he had on was thrown into a pile, and a pair of jeans soon followed. 

He crawled back onto the bed, hovering over you to kiss you on the lips once again. You wanted to keep him there as long as you could with your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, but he was able to break free when his knuckles tracing down the center of your body.

He sat back on his legs and hooked his fingers around the waistband of your yoga pants to peel them slowly down the length of your legs, leaving your underwear in place. 

He hummed to himself as he rubbed up the tops of your bare thighs, squeezing them in the palms of his strong hands as he made his way up. You gave yourself to him by letting your knees fall to the side, spreading your legs while he settled between them. He looked down at you and smiled, biting in his bottom lip as his fingertips danced teasingly along the lace edge of your panties. He took his time admiring you as if this is the first time he had ever laid eyes on you like this. 

You whined impatiently with no real coherent thought to offer. 

He lowered himself to his elbows above you, and placed a pattern kisses to your tummy between your hips. A raspy moan rattled from you when you felt the warmth of his hand dipping between your legs. 

“Missing the touch of a man?” He taunted playfully through open-mouthed kisses that trailed lower and lower. 

A breathy sigh and a low hum were the only answers your brain could muster.  

The tip of his middle finger slid beneath the thin cloth just as his lips pressed against your covered clit, and he whispered with a familiar confidence, “Is this what you missed?”

A pitchy whine broke free from your parted lips. You couldn’t control the bucking your hips into his face in the search for more, but he was able to keep you in place with his forearm placed across your stomach. 

His warm, heavy breath draping across you was enough to overwhelm you, causing you to clench around nothing in anticipation for what was to come. He licked a languid stripe with a flattened tongue where the kiss had been placed, wetting the cotton covering your core. 

A ragged whine ripped through your chest and your hand dove into his hair again, but this time you tugged at it with purpose to bring him closer to you somehow. At first, he resisted your guided push to the back of his head, and responded with a breathy laugh - letting it flutter across you in this dance to keep you guessing. His fingertip that had been tracing delicately under your panties dipped into your wetness, coating himself as he teased your entrance.

Your groans of desperation for him to make you feel good, to make you forget everything that had happened, echoed throughout the room. 

His raspy voice purred against you, relishing in the way you fell apart beneath him, “Tell me what you’ve been missing, dove.”

The barely-there passes of his tongue and movements of his fingers made you throw your head back into the pillow. You stared at the ceiling, pleading for his mercy, “Jake, please!”

He wasn’t giving in just yet as he was testing how far he could push the limit, “I know you can use those words of yours. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you want?”

I want you to love me.

He waited for your answer, grazing his teeth over where you needed him most. You nearly lost the ability to form an answer, but you swallowed thickly, fighting the dryness of your mouth before whimpering, “I need to feel you, please. I missed your mouth.”

He responded with a satisfied hum nestled between your legs, “Yeah?”

You nodded with your head digging into the pillow, and with that, the last piece of clothing is yanked down your legs. 

You hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol, but you felt drunk off him alone. Your eyes have been closed on their own volition, without your control, forcing you to take everything in through your other senses. 

His musky scent, a tempting mixture of a fine cologne, his favorite expensive whiskey clinging to his breath all captured in the lingering smoke of his last cigarette. You tuned into his sounds, the low hums and heavy pants filling the space of his dark bedroom. Your sense of touch heightened, as if each touch was a shock of electricity across the expanse of your skin while you tried to guess where the next one would be placed.  

It didn’t take much for him to turn you into a writhing mess in the sea of blankets when his pointed tongue dipped into you without the barrier of your lingerie. He pulled away after a few seconds and brushed the pad of his thumb over your clit, whispering in a smoky voice that clung deliciously to the thick air, “Should I treat her just right? Give her all the attention, hmm?”

“So pretty and wet.” He kissed the tiny bud of nerves with a feather-light touch. “She really did miss me…already so hard and needy.”

You whined his name with a pathetic roll of your hips to chase him, eliciting a devilish smile to pull at the upturned corners of his mouth. 

Jake wrapped his lips in a perfect seal around your clit, suckling it into the intoxicating warmth of his mouth. You uttered a broken, breathless string of curses with how close you already felt. He has learned every part of your body very well over the months you’ve known him, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were in the throes of your first orgasm. You didn’t even realize you had dug your nails into the tanned skin of his forearm with the other hand gripping a fistful of sheets by your head. 

He groaned, but without complaint while keeping you secured to the bed with his fingertips pressed into the supple flesh of your thigh. He lifted from you, with a sinful lick of his lips and dreamy eyes cast down at you, sighing, “The way you taste…I could write a song about it.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his head thrashed side-to-side, so the bridge of his nose caught the perfect spot just so, devouring you as if you were the last thing to grace his lips. 

You fought against your body to prop yourself on your arm so you could watch him pleasure you. Pulling his hair back, you saw that his heavy lids were closed, brows tipped in concentration as his tongue swirled changing patterns over your swollen clit.

You tried to edge yourself by holding out longer, but with him coaxing your release with curled fingers inside you and being able to see his tongue work on you - feeling it move with each precise flick - hurled you into the wall of your climax without warning. 

“I, I-I’m so close- oh fuck!” 

His sleepy eyes suddenly opened, and the unwavering lust-blown pupils locked with yours until you couldn’t keep them open a second longer. Your head had fallen back as you used the roots of his hair between your clenched fist to ground yourself, riding each breaking wave of your high. 

He carried you, tugging you along gracefully through your orgasm. Just until the very tipping point where the overstimulation was threatening to ravage your body. He took the time, yet never taking his lips from you as you came down slowly. 

“Turn over for me,” Jake was admiring the fucked-out expression across your face. 

You probably would have done anything he asked at this moment, so you obliged without question. He adjusted behind you as you began rolling onto your stomach, bringing your legs and arms up so you’re on your knees and elbows. 

You wiggled your ass against him with a breathy, mischievous giggle that earned you a swift smack of his hand. You cried out, but the sound quickly transformed into a pitiful moan as he soothed the stinging skin with his palm. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” he grunted, squeezing a firm handful of the swell of your ass.

For the first time tonight, you’re blessed with the tip of his cock teasing through your slick. With his hips pressed up against you, he shuddered at the feeling, stumbling slightly over the brief break in his control. If you didn’t know him better, you would have guessed that he wouldn’t last long tonight. 

You arched your back, giving him the full show that would be sure to drive him insane. You tested the waters with a daring glance over your shoulder to see him. He’s looking down at himself glazed in the mess of your arousal that he’s created. You noted how the tip of tongue darted across his parted bottom lip with dark brows sewn tightly in his state of focus. Strands of tangled hair have already started to cling to the sweat forming on his forehead and cheeks. 

A primal growl erupted from deep within his thoat, “Oh fuck!” 

His free hand slinked down the curve of your back with the other held around the thick base of himself to dip the head in and out of your soaked cunt so slowly you might explode. 

He sighed sweetly, “I missed this….just look at you.”

He couldn’t even resist anymore and gave a small thrust of his hips, pushing into you with ease. Even with your first orgasm, he was still stretching you out inch-by-inch. You released a ragged moan into the sheets the second he bottomed out inside you. 

He paused, buried deep inside your pussy for what could have been minutes to feel you clench and adjust to his size.

With a deliberate pull until he nearly fell out, only to push all the to the hilt, he growled in your ear, “Am I giving you enough attention now?”

You squeaked out something incoherent with your face buried into the pillows and sheets. A husky chuckle fluttered over your skin as he started to thrust into you. 

Your knees slipped down the silken fabric until you were laying flat on your stomach. If it was another night, he might have kept you still, but tonight he moved with you, holding your hip and balancing his weight with an extended arm by your head.

He rolled into you, hitting that perfect spot with each gliding pass. Pitched moans bounced around the room as your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tightly you gripped onto the blankets.

As much as he enjoyed seeing you like this, he needed to feel every part of you. The hand that was starting to mark you with finger-shaped bruises left your hip momentarily to slip beneath your tummy, guiding you back onto your knees. 

He didn’t stop there, and brought up upright so your back was flush against his bare chest. Your hand grazed across the forearm across your waist, fingers interlocking with his, with the other hand searching for the back of his neck.

“You were made for me, weren’t you, baby?” He praised you with a certain gravel that made you tighten around him as it rasped across your ear. 

His nimble fingers found the small, silver crescent moon pendant that hung from your neck on a thin, delicate chain. He held it up just right like it was a treasured artifact, so the light reflected off its polished surface.

He placed it gently against your chest, tracing along the chain resting on your collarbones with his fingers. A prideful smirk was formed against your cheek, and he mumbled, “Like when I buy you pretty things, don’t you?”

A hot blush flushed your cheeks and chest, making you feel instantly dizzy. He was making it increasingly difficult for you to concentrate as he never stopped his movements. In the position, he usually fucked you hard enough that your screams rattled the walls of the bedroom. This time however, he took his time treasuring your body with his velvet-soft lips pressed into your neck and fingertips tracing along the details of your breasts that were bouncing with each thrust. You somehow managed a listeless nod with your head falling back onto him.

The pad of his middle finger found your overstimulated clit, and he gave a teasing roll as he crooned into the little spot tucked below your ear, “My beautiful girl deserves the prettiest things. Just say the word and you can have them all.” 

For a flash of a second, you believed that he wasn’t just fucking you like the dynamics of your ‘situationship’ suggested. Before you let it sink in, you tried to push the thought away like your mind had been playing tricks on you, convincing you of something that wasn’t real. 

“I love you.”

Your confession flitted from your mouth to his ears without you being able to catch it. It might have been the heat of the moment, but it had given away that your emotions had crawled their way back, taking over your state of unbridled lust. 

Whereas he might have said it to keep you here in his bed tonight, you meant the words with every part of your soul. 

He didn’t allow it to hang in the air, repeating it right back to you. Although he suddenly stopped, he squeezed his arm around you when he added, “I wanna see you.”

You whined at the empty feeling when pulled from you, but he flipped you onto your back in a swift movement before you could complain further. You reached out for him as he found the new position between your legs, pulling him close to you. 

He didn’t kiss you yet, holding back enough to search your face. He scanned over your dazed features behind his half-lidded eyes. A thumb was brought to your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your makeup that stained your cheeks through your fit of tears. 

Your legs locked around his waist, bringing him closer to you than before. The heat of his body was something you never wanted to let go. You both knew the second he slipped into you, he wasn’t going to last long. 

It wasn’t rushed. The time was spent kissing your soft lips, tasting the sweet, saltiness on your flushed, pinkened skin, breathing in the floral scent lingering on your body from your bath earlier in the night. 

He rocked his hips against you with a calculated pressure, nudging the head of his cock to your limit. His teeth raked across the peek of your shoulder as he brought his fingers to your clit for the final time. 

“Let me have it. One more time, baby. I know you can,” he pleaded in desperation with his heavenly voice mumbled into the crook of your neck, giving away that he’d been holding out for you.

That’s all it took for him to push you over the edge of your climax that you have been teetering on. It amazed you how he was able to pull you under, to drown you in the overwhelming state of euphoria. Not only had he figured you out, you wanted to give him everything he asked for, to win each of the little praises passed through his lips. 

There was no hiding that Jake was starting to lose control as he began to unravel under the climb of his own release. His hips faltered in a broken rhythm along with the ragged, strained breaths falling on your ears. In his own fog, his hand wrapped around your throat, but only for a moment before it danced up your jawline and across your cheek. 

In the height of it, the both of you ended up a tangled mess of limbs. You felt out of your own body, as if time seemed irrelevant with the only thing grounding you was feeling his weight against you. After a final thrust, he filled you up with the warmth of his cum until the lazy half-strokes halted completely with him nestled inside you.

If it was up to you, you would keep him locked there forever. A part of you thought he might feel the same way, because it took him way longer than usual to gather enough strength to pull away. 

He reluctantly withdrew from you, but stayed intertwined in your embrace with an arm slipped under your head and the side of his face pressed into your chest. 

You let the time pass in comfortable silence. The only sounds you heard were the combined shallow pants coming down to the steady deep breaths of oncoming slumber. The purring of his soft snores were what let you know that he eventually drifted off. With him in your arms, you finally felt at peace, hopeful that this would be a fresh beginning with him. 

But it wouldn’t last. 

Something vibrated in the bed, and a bright light of a phone screen illuminated the dark room. Thinking it was yours, you grabbed it from the folds of the duvet draped across your bodies.

You squinted to the harsh brightness, but eventually focused on the notification banner across the screen. Your heart fell from where he had placed it, and sank into the pit when you realized it wasn’t your phone, but the damage had already been done.

A woman’s name was what you read. It didn’t matter who. The pink heart icon next to it told you everything you needed to know.

Heyyy Jakey! Did you still want to meet up?

 I’m in town this weekend-

You tossed it, almost throwing it to the side so you didn’t have to stare at it for a second longer. Maybe it would go away. Maybe that was just your imagination.

It was difficult for you to breathe with how your stomach twisted into painful knots as the sinking feeling of dread pulled you into the mattress. It didn’t matter how much you loved him, or could love him. It didn’t matter if he made you feel like the only woman on the planet, or how he made love to you on nights like this. It didn’t matter what gifts he bought you or how many texts came across your phone. It didn’t matter what you would give to have the chance for a future with him because nothing would ever change. The very thing that made you fall for him was going to be what destroys you. He was still going to be Jake Kiszka at the end of each day. 

The weight of his arm across you felt like a vice grip. You had to escape now, shifting and sliding out from him without him waking. You froze when he rolled onto his stomach, but only for a second until the sounds of his snoring started up again. 

There was no fight that was going to put these pieces back together. 

Tiptoeing around the room, you gathered your things and got dressed without a sound. You forgo trying to find any of your other possessions that had been left before, accepting that they would be lost in this house forever. You walked over to his desk and found a pen and the notebook he liked to scribble his ideas on. Turning to a blank page, you began to write with a shaky hand. 

I hope you find the woman that is your Moon, 

For I am only one of the many stars in your sky

After wiping the tears streaming down your cheek with the back of your hand, you tear the paper from the spine of the leather bound book and fold it once before walking over to the bed where the man you hopelessly love sleeps away. 

This time you’re able to undo the necklace he had gifted you, and you hold it in the palm of your hand. The tiny moon shined against your skin, and you thought back to the night you opened the navy-blue velvet jewelry box. 

Another memory that seems from a lifetime ago.

With the note placed on the pillow, you carefully laid the jewelry across it. You looked over to him, watching his back rise and fall with each dreamy breath. His hair had covered most of his face and you wanted nothing more than to tuck it back behind his ear and kiss him for the last time, but you decided against it. 

The bedroom door clicked in its latch, closing this chapter of your life behind you. 

Taglist:

@josiee-gvf @gabyvanfleet @ageofbrokenbells @maddie-van-fleet @gretasmokerising @prophetofthedune @gardensgatedaisy @lek-gvf @baguettejuliette @ashabeannn @daniellefersblog @seventieswhore @lo-pe-ak @sammiejane22 @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @pr41sethemoon @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavanfleas @freckled-wonder @gvfrry @myownparadise96 @jordierama @mywaykiszka @jmksbuttsupremacy @weightofdreamz @maverick-rose @brokenbellz @jakekiszmyass @milkgemini @sarakay-gvf @idk-anymore50 @kels-gvf @strangersimp @richjaaasss @greta-van-chaos @shesawomaninadream @joshkiszkashikingboots @brinlygvf @alexxavicry @gretavanbitches @doodle417 @sammyslappers @garbagevanfleet

(I’m still in the process of redoing my taglist so be patient with me 😭)

#gvf fic #gvf smut #fanfic #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake gvf #jake kiszka smut #Jake Kiszka angst smut #gvf angst #gvf x reader #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka x you #greta van fleet fanfic #greta fan fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka one shot

[morganlefaye79]

I should probably work on my longfic, but brain says write that specific idea down you had 2 months ago, so here we are with another WIP 😅 The title (for now) is Break and Enter. The title is taken from a song by Hyper & Blue Stahli (Spotify link) which gave me this idea in the first place.

“Your security is shit at best, Ker!” Valaire barked. He was tired of this endless discussions about Kerry’s safety. “Either we up the security, or I will lay down my responsibility as your Bodyguard and security manager. Which means that MSM will send another gonk bodyguard that follows you around 24/7. Your call!” “I don’t need a bodyguard and more security. You're here with me…” Kerry tried to argue but was cut by Valaire. “I will not always be around, Ker. I nearly shot Kovachek three days ago because he just walked in here, and although it wouldn’t have been a great loss for humanity, I don’t want to shoot people. He nearly pissed himself, Jesus fucking christ!” Valaire nearly screamed the last sentence, he didn’t want to, but Kerry’s constant refusal of “being safe” at all times was gnawing at his nerves. He was constantly on edge, sometimes even to the point that he thought himself paranoid. He also had to show fans every so often out. He was done with it. “I lived here for years without intruders, it is just a coincidence.” Kerry tried again. “I know for a fact that you're lying! I know that someone stole one of your guitars, and since you have it on display again, I assume you got it back!” Valaire was now calm, he knew he had won this argument, there was no way Kerry could wriggle himself out of this.

I would love to see what you all are working on, doesn't matter if it is writing, art, VP or modding, and as always: no pressure :)

@dreamskug @wraithsoutlaws @vox-monstera @faepunkprince @a-pirate @maimaiapologist @ghostoffuturespast @gloryride @dustymagpie @wanderingaldecaldo @jaymber @fereldanwench @cinnamon-mey @katsigian @chevvy-yates @kittenchrissy @sammysilverdyne @rindemption @imaginarycyberpunk2023 @kharonion @genocidalfetus @neonbutchery @elvenbeard

| @knuttydraws | @raflesia65 | @retrowondergirl | @thedastrash | @charlatron | @kittynomsdeplume | @kemvee | @a-shakespearean-in-paris | @jentrevellan | @isk4649 | @charmcity-jess | @amarmeme | @spooky-daggers |

#wip wednesday #cyberpunk 2077 #kerry eurodyne #oc: Valaire Dercks

[system-of-a-feather]

Tagging @syscurse with this cause they seem to have more awareness of the final fusion "discourse" and I dont have a thesis statement or any real argument here beyond just casual discussion nor do I know if Im "strawmanning" cause I havent actually seen much of it since M&M's final fusion backlash (+ Im not trying to argue, just share thoughts)

But the common line of "Final Fusion isnt even worth it / isnt even good because you can always resplit" and what not is honestly fucked up and problematic to say in regards to a healing method but on a personal level didnt so much have anything to compare it to in order to highlight it

But as someone who has been working with OCD longer than DID and final fusion, its kind of like saying "Trying to resist / be free from doing your compulsions isn't even worth it because you can always get new compulsions or relapse, even if you free yourself from all the ones you have now, its not like itll stay that way"

Cause - and Im not sure how many chronic long term OCD folks are out there - but for cases like mine where its "high functioning" (ie constant but due to how its done it doesnt impact my day to day as much as it should) and long long long deeply rooted and untreated, a valid settling place for healing is to just integrate and adjust the compulsions to be less intrusive and focus on navigating obsessions and intrusive thoughts better

For some it might just not be worth the time and effort to actually fully stop all the compulsions entirely because - in our case - there are too many, its too deeply rooted in trauma and other disorders, and so reinforced that to do so would be a SHIT ton of work whereas usually we actually are pretty functioning

So if we were to put the community aspect the DID community has onto the OCD "community" then one could say there is "full remission" and "functional OCD" as recovery goals.

And as someone whose happily settled in functional OCD and currently really isnt seeking out full remission (as that would probably be after final fusion) its completely valid to say "Im happy with this level".

Much like DID and splitting though, the OCD brain even after healing is still a brain physically wired in an OCD way and inevitably you are always going to be prone to developing obsessions and compulsions. Does that mean working on freeing yourself from the ones you currently have is pointless? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Even if you have two weeks, two months, two years, twenty years, forty years and then "relapse" or whatever it is and end up gaining new obsessions / compulsions or splitting a new alter, obtaining that period of ideal and desired healing is an amazing thing.

Healing has ups and downs and works like a tide for almost every disorder and every version of healing. Its not a special thing about DID or final fusion, heck the claim could be made with functional multiplicity and dissociative symptoms and barriers coming back

Idk man, Im mostly rambling thoughts but TLDR healing is a rollercoaster, sometimes its a Disneyland ride sometimes its Six Flags, but there are ups and downs regardless of the disorder and version of healing for an individual and I really think its a bit of a negative nancy and a thought coming from a place of not understanding later stages of healing from people not quite there yet

Anyways, just rambles open mic to anyone who wants to ramble back

#alter: riku #syscourse #discourse #riku rambles #ocd #recovery #healing

[collectivecloseness]

I have this angsty mess of ideas that I don't know how to put together but I'm gonna try to explain it. So like Steve has been in love with you since like forever and you become friends in season one blah blah blah you're inseparable etc, you have the tendency saving Steve's ass everytime but then you die while saving him and steve never got the chance to confess (not really that important but I guess it adds emotional damage idk) he obviously blames himself for it and everytime his phone rings he answers with the hope that for some fucked up reasons it's you and you're actually still alive but stuck in the upside down. Everyone is concerned about him bc it feels like he's slowly going crazy and is very much delusional.

Idk if that's like very long or makes no sense at all so sorry in advance, your eyes must be bleeding after reading this. :/

Robin being the one to always check on Steve after he loses you. She knew what you meant to Steve, most shifts mentioned you, and your recent interactions with Steve, most nights were him- were the both of them, talking on the phone about you. She loved the whole will they won’t they, and the puppy love gossip with Steve. Now she wished she’d pushed more, at least Steve would feel better if you’d known.

Robin’s learnt to be more open and vulnerable, since she’s been the one to look after Steve, being emotional and like a true friend, rather than snarky and quippy and teasing with him. She’s always coming in to check on him with her key to his house, pressing her hand on his shoulders each time she says hi, unless she’s rushing to comfort him again.

Robin tells him a few times “You know I said I can move in, or we could both move to our own place! I’m lonely! Besides, I love spending time with my best friend.” Robin’s been encouraging it. Her and Steve had breiefly passed the ideas before, before you, but she got the feeling back then they both badly would have liked it, living together, but neither wanted to be the first to come on too strong and vulnerable. It was different now. And Robin really didn’t want Steve to be lonely either. Besides, Robin came over to Steve’s literally every day she could anyway.

But to Steve, Robin wasn’t you. He still loves Robin, as her own person and his friend, he doesn’t compare you two at all. But Steve worried the constant company might make him go crazier than he already feels. It also wouldn’t allow for any of his unhealthier coping mechanisms. Steve would argue in his head, even crying or screaming himself to sleep, he wouldn’t be able to do anymore, but he’d done that in front of some of his friends anyways.

Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Dustin, all of his friends all worried about him. Max, Lucas and El had come over yesterday. Joyce makes sure to drop by a couple of times a week at least. Robin came every day, while the others did sometimes, varying in frequency. They knew Steve wasn’t healthy.

Sometimes, Steve whipped his head to the side, out of nowhere, or maybe with a small sound one of them picked up, from years of fear of monsters from other dimensions. But they knew it wasn’t Steve being scared of bumps in the night. It was because he thought he may have heard you. It was a glimmer of hope, just for a second, and they hated seeing it shatter each time.

Steve did worry about bumps in the night too. Steve worried about the next time he’d have to fight, no matter what it might be. Because this time, no one would come to save him.

You were always the first to come for him. You specifically sought Steve out first, checked on him first, he was always your first choice, the one you always checked on, the one you’d always save. You were with Steve for all his fuck ups. You’d seen him grow, and he knows you’d never judged him for his past once he actually got better. Not once. No one else had done that. But you also made Steve better. And he was still scared he won’t be as much now, without you.

But on the other hand, Steve wasn’t sure he really wanted anyone to save him next time. If the next time he dies saving the others, then whatever. He couldn’t save you. At least he could be with you then.

No one would be designated to check Steve first, to save him first, and that’s what he got. Steve always put himself in front of danger first, and now he’d lost you, there would be no one to save him. It was his price.

Steve wanted to go back straight after. He wanted to go back for you the next day, and the day after. To the place he’d left you. At the end of the week, he told Robin his plans, with his rucksack already on his back. And not only did she physically hold Steve to the floor, but she locked all the doors as she walkied Eddie and Nancy - not the kids, she knew when Steve was better, even now, he wouldn’t want the kids to see him like this - and Eddie had to bear hug Steve so he wouldn’t try to leave, while all of them gently tried to talk their friend down. They said it was a suicide mission! And that’s when Steve screamed “I DON’T CARE!” Trapped in his friends arms. Screaming those words not enough overemotionally, but too genuinely, that it really got them worried. Steve was still fighting to leave. He had collapsed into tears after that. He wanted to go and he meant it.

Nancy wanted to sedate him by that point, because she was too worried Steve would leave. But Robin put her foot down at that thought. It would create a super bad spiral, and Steve wouldn’t trust them, she knew they had to do something else! Luckily Robin thought of something. Mixed in with Steve’s yells at Eddie, Eddie trying to talk to Steve, and Nancy on edge and trying to not look as upset as she probably was while getting Robin to think of something else before she snapped.

Robin called the number she knew to, and soon afterwards, Joyce was entering Steve’s home with her own spare key. Joyce let Steve cry into her lap, and she stroked his back, talking when Steve wanted to, only lulling her own assurances when he didn’t, and just soothing Steve, until he fell asleep like that, in his room with her. Robin knew Steve wouldn’t fight Joyce to leave, or yell too much at her or anything. Steve had fallen asleep early in the afternoon, and Nancy didn’t even need to sedate him because he stayed asleep, luckily for the entire night. Joyce wouldn’t leave. She wanted to stay until morning, she didn’t want to leave Steve overnight, or at all right now.

Joyce even made breakfast the morning after, making sure to stay by Steve’s side because he’d always eat her cooking if she was there. And it was a sickly sweet feeling for everyone watching whenever that happened, because Steve would take a few bites and then finish his plate clean. But they knew he’d probably only had a few bites the day before, with how much he gorged on Joyce’s dishes when she was around to eat with him.

Robin stayed in bed with Steve most nights for sleepovers. That night Joyce had, which she’d done quite a few times. Nancy or Eddie had done it several times more, too. Sometimes Steve would say look, he really just wanted tonight alone. And if they trusted the way he said it, he got that. They understood sometimes he did need that. But Robin also hates leaving Steve alone, because she knows nights are worse for him (and in general as well). She didn’t want to be overbearing though, something friends when she was younger would stop being her friends for, but a trait she’d stopped shielding when she needed to be Steve’s open support. But to be honest, even if Steve couldn’t mourn as well if he wasn’t alone at night, those mostly seemed like mourning in the destructive ways.

Steve knew he was safe with Robin, or Nance, or Eddie, or Joyce there, from monsters, and from himself. Not that he was thinking of that last part, he was trying to convince them, but he wasn’t very good at stopping his brain from eating himself alive, because he didn’t feel like he wanted to stop. He wanted punishment.

At one point, after you’d died, Eddie had tried to give Steve something of yours, an item he got from your house when he went to visit your family. When he’d explored your now, forevermore, empty room. But Steve had a moment, and was mad that Eddie had ruined your shirt, forever tainting it with his smell, and his touch, and not leaving it the way you had the day you’d gone to meet Steve and the others. Steve had later apologised for freaking out on Eddie about it. Something Eddie casually waved his hand over, promising Steve never could be freaky, and saying it was okay, he was sorry too. Steve didn’t really want to think about anymore. That top still felt slightly tainted, no matter how ridiculous Steve knew it was. He just didn’t have much left of you, that was still untouched. That was yours, and had still last been touched, moved, adored, by you. So Robin didn’t bring Steve things from your house. She’d just tell him if she found something, if he wanted to look at it, or go over later. To which Steve would generally just nod at her.

Steve had had a few moments, but luckily, he’d had friends there every single time. No matter how different the moments were. If it was him spiralling, down dangerous paths for himself. Him accidentally spooking someone, maybe by lashing out, or just not having the energy to look after someone else, even if they were upset because of his crumbling. Including the ones, where Steve would adamantly deny the facts in front of him. It was like the first two days, Steve knew you were dead. And he always did, of course. The fact never left his soul. But after that things changed, and became slightly more of a purgatory, Steve always seemed even just a fraction hazy.

One time Robin had come back to Nancy crying, and Steve sobbing loud like a broken child on the floor. Steve had sworn it was you who had called. But he’d missed the call, running and slipping since he’d been in the shower when it rang. Nancy and Robin guessed he’d been thinking about you. And with a hand to his forehead between his wails on the floor, Robin knew he’d made the water too hot, again. Steve had tried to call back, but it wouldn’t work. And he yelled at Nancy for not picking up the phone, but that was only after she’d tried to gently remind him that it couldn’t be you. And then Steve had done everything to try and call back, almost breaking his phone till Nancy had wrestled it away from him. And when he realised he couldn’t, either call back, or call you, Robin hadn’t quite gotten through to him about it, Steve had collapsed into pained sobs, so distraught, and so unable to be taken out of his pain, that Nancy was sobbing too.

El had left inconsolable once, because Steve had asked multiples times if she could somehow contact you in the upside down. No one had realised, Steve had gotten El to agree one time, until she called Joyce crying because she couldn’t find you, and now she couldn’t get Steve to talk, he just had his head in his hands. But the next day, when El came to visit, with chocolates she always liked to give Steve since she heard they were good for making people happy, he’d apologised and she was herself quite easily again. Something Robin was very relieved with, knowing it would have wrecked Steve if he thought he’d hurt one of the kids.

Dustin had been turned away by Eddie before, on days Steve said he didn’t want to see anyone, which if he said that exactly, made people come over to check if he was okay. And on a day Steve wasn’t doing very well, and had Nancy and Robin bandaging his hands up because he’d punched a mirror, swearing he saw you in the reflection in a blink of his eye, and thinking for that split second maybe it was a gateway to the upside down. Although they were pretty relieved he realised that wasn’t the case straight away, no one wanted Dustin to see Steve like that, least of all Steve. But even Dustin’s visits, as the encouraging little brother, didn’t always bring a smile to Steve’s face, even a fake one he couldn’t muster. Some days, there was just little that could help.

Robin thought maybe Steve only sometimes thought this, even if there was a 0.5% chance always in the back of his head, that maybe, somehow, you were still alive somewhere. It wouldn’t matter where, because then Steve would find you. Robin wished more than anything they had your body, mostly for you, but also for Steve, and for all your friends and family. But she wasn’t going to risk anyone, to go on a suicide mission. And she didn’t want anyone else to leave Steve either. Steve wouldn’t always bring it up. But occasionally there’d be flare ups, where Steve would go on about how you could be out there. Robin was the one who’d decided she’d never flat out disagree with Steve if he got like that. He always needed one person he felt like he could always trust. So even though she never encouraged it, even if for the first week, and now she still had that 0.4% chance in the back of her mind, she’d more try to go through why Steve thought that, and be by his side as the others tried to explain.

But Robin felt at least slightly successful with every little breakthrough she and Steve had together. She was normally there for his, even if she wasn’t the one helping him get to that point anyways. But the biggest breakthrough came a night, where the day leading up to it had been pretty normal.

Keith had actually been very generous with bereavement leave for Steve, even indulging Robin every time Steve called the store in tears, panicking, and needing Robin back immediately. Today had been okay. None of them were good. But she’d come over about 9am, Eddie calling right before he knew she’d leave, to say he was dropping off McDonald’s breakfast for them both just before ten, because he had to go help his uncle with some errands today.

Robin had helped set out a fresh set of clothes for Steve, ones Nancy had left in a pile in his room yesterday afternoon when she’d been with him. Robin smiled at her little post it notes Nancy left around, for Steve, and for his friends around the house. But Robin setting out Steve’s clothes always helped kick him up just a notch enough to get out of bed and go shower. Eddie had stayed for fifteen minutes, and Steve had even watched this time as he and Robin threw hash browns off each other’s faces. Steve sometimes found it hard to watch, when other people were smiling. Robin had been really proud of him today.

Then Steve even picked out what they should have for lunch, and although Robin wasn’t sure Steve could exactly be craving a salad, she was still really happy he’d suggested something, and got to work on Nancy’s refrigerated Tupperware boxes and groceries. Nancy liked to cut things up when she had the time. Robin was pretty slow no matter what she had to cook, because otherwise she was clumsy, and no one liked to focus on something and leave Steve alone. Nancy probably chopped things up yesterday when Joyce came to visit Steve as well.

The one time Robin cut her finger when cooking for Steve with Eddie, Steve had had a full blown panic attack, but he also either thought it was your blood he was seeing, or remembered yours. Steve threw the knife to the side, grabbing Robin’s wrists and panicking, until she soothed him into remembering where he was, and who he was with, and that she was unharmed, and when Steve was back, Eddie could take him away for a second while Robin found the newly restocked first aid kit. The other times she’d hurt herself since, she’d hidden them from Steve’s sight very quickly.

Steve had picked between a variety of activities Robin suggested after lunch, and two person board and card games it had been. Everyone had been buying or donating games to the Harrington household, even the kids had been giving theirs over. So Steve never was bored of any of the games, and he could play them.

Hopper and Karen had actually both taught Steve how to play solitaire, when Mike and El had dropped off some more game to donate. A joke even Steve gave a breathy chuckle at when Eddie said there two people to explain the most famous one player game. But Robin was glad Steve might have something to do to take his mind off things when alone. She knew focusing could be hard sometimes right now for him, so she got that they both tried to explain the game. Also, Karen and Hopper did talk over each other quite a bit in explanation.

But after that, Robin had whipped something quick together for dinner, and Steve had stayed to talk with her in the kitchen the entire time. He even got out glasses and some soda. Even though Robin did most of the talking, Steve took part, which was good. But also, Steve liked talking with Robin. Because she’d talk so much, and be so passionate about what she was saying, he didn’t even need to say much to be part of the conversation, and it was something about his best friend he really appreciated at the moment, even though he used to joke about never getting a word in edgeways. Eddie was a bit the same.

Steve held the remote as they channel surfed, sitting on the couch together with their meals on their laps, since neither of them really liked the silence while eating, and Robin was pretty talked out after finishing her story in the kitchen.

But when Steve had flicked through two news channels, he froze as he immediately recognised the scene in front of him. It was from a romance film you loved, about two thirds of the way through. Steve recognised it from the first frame, from the first note of its score, as he turned over the channel.

Robin recognised it too, although she hadn’t watched it fully, and she hadn’t watched it nearly as many times as Steve had with you. She tried to keep her face blank as she looked to Steve, only a light questioning, curious expression, to see how he was feeling, before she let any of her own thoughts and feelings make him spiral. But Steve simply said “Gotta put something on, the food.” and picked up his fork, turning the volume up enough to cover any chewing sounds, like he’d done for Robin since the first time they watched tv and ate together. That had been long before he lost you.

Steve had finished quickly, but that was just a few scenes before the most important part of the romance film. The confession scene. And Steve was crying before it had even started.

Tears streamed down his face, the two leads finally starting to open up, and explain how they were really feeling. His eyes not even brown, but looking black, so big and red ridden, his cheeks drowned. Robin felt her heart hammering watching Steve crushed again, but she tried to be the best friend she possibly could, as she was always learning to now. Robin reached just a little for the remote on the coffee table, eyes questioning on Steve. But he turned to her and shook his head, so she leaned back and kept the movie on. Steve watched the film, as Robin watched both it and him. Scooting even closer, so their sides were pressed together, as Steve continued to cry. And then, even Robin was tearing up. Especially as the scene continued. And Robin wrapped her arm around Steve’s waist, her other holding his closest hip, and they both quietly sobbed watching the love confession scene, of your favourite romantic movie you’d watched a thousand times.

Just a scene you never got to live out in your young life. A scene Steve never gave you.

Steve turned to Robin as the couple shared their first kiss, the happy score coming on as the confession was over, it all goes well, and with the way Steve’s shoulders are shaking and his chest is heaving, Robin knows he needs her. She immediately opens her arms, pulling Steve in who sobs heartily into her shoulder, all her shirts used to having snot and tears and spit on them now. And she cries too, quieter than Steve, but still all the same, as she rocks him, holding him close through his heart break, through his loss, through his pain, as Steve cries loud into his best friend.

Steve mumbles everything he’s said a thousand times over. How he’s lost you. How he needs you. How you can’t be gone. That Steve wants you. That you’re dead. And that word hits hard. That word took him a while to say, after the second day of screaming it.

And when Steve pulls back, and Robin holds him still, Steve looks deep into his best friends eyes, and he shakes as he tells her the one thing he still hasn’t said yet. “I loved them.”

And Robin rubs her hands up and down Steve’s arms, as she smiled so sadly, and wept so dearly. “I know.”

Steve hiccuped, and a small groan left him. Robin still smiling sadly, still stroking him. Steve looks down, but not a lot, and Robin can always tell Steve’s thoughts, even if it’s gotten harder now. Steve just wants to think.

“How did you?” He asks, sniffling, and swallowing.

Did you know too? Maybe if Robin knew... maybe you did too. Steve just wanted you to know. He should have given you that. But maybe if you knew... even if you didn’t feel the same way, maybe you knew somebody loved you, maybe you knew he saw you just like you did him, before you were stolen.

“Well first of all, you were very romantic, lover boy, always talking about them, always filling the world with your golden thoughts about them.”

Steve liked the way Robin spoke. He thought maybe she’d picked some stuff up from Eddie too. Even knowing his loving thoughts about you had been spoken into the world you’d been living in... even if it wasn’t the one your body was in now, it gave him just a flicker of hope. A bite less of guilt.

“And...” Robin faltered now. He hands falling to Steve’s wrists, and he looked up more inquisitive now.

“And they talked about their crush on you. It’d only been a couple of days before... into the whole upside down thing. Otherwise I’d have manoeuvred you two into each other as soon as I knew, even if I had to trick you and lock you dinguses in a room or something. But that’s all y/n talked about those days.

Steve sucked in air. People didn’t say your name much anymore. Probably scared of his reaction, but Steve missed it. He needed people to bring you up, to remember you, to say your name.

“All they talked about was how they’d been in love with you for years, but recently it was too much to bear, and they just had to tell you. I told them to go for it, that I thought you might realllly like them back! But, y/n wanted to wait to tell you after we saved the world.”

Robin looked up at Steve. He was still crying, and she was joining him again. Her hands squeezed his wrists, and Steve’s knees turned to face Robin those few centimetres more, leaning warmly against her own. “And I agreed. And I wanted to wait until you brought it up again. Until you said again, that you loved them, like you used to tell me every day.”

Robin had hoped it would be less painful that way. While Steve wished it had been you he’d been telling it to every day instead.

“And... was it the right thing to do?” Robin gasps for air with her sob, shaking under Steve now.

And his breaths were gasping, his best friends starting to mirror, as his head shook up and down. “Yeah... it was.”

Robin threw her arms around Steve again, and he moaned as he held her back, so so tightly. Gripping onto Robin’s shoulders like he’d never have to let go again, as Robin nearly scrambled on top of his legs. Both of them crying open mouthed into each others shoulders. Teeth and spit and tears latched on. Neither of the best friends caring about being any semblance of perfect, and not wrecked, not when they were with each other. And they held each other so tight, so hard, as if the grief in their hearts was a magnet, pushing them even closer, but Steve and Robin never wanted to let go of each other, to help the burden of that grief.

Steve and Robin missed you, so much.

#this is great and thank you for sending this #I found this in my drafts from when my phone wasn’t working and I couldn’t type v well and I’ve been wanting to finish this for ages #love plots like this gimme more I will always 🤲 #Steve Harrington/reader #platonic stobin #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #stranger things #Nancy Wheeler #Eddie Munson #Joyce Byers #el jane hopper #dustin henderson #Jim hopper #Mike Max Lucas and Karen mentioned as well #Steve Harrington angst #Steve Harrington blurb #ask #anon #platonic stobin thoughts #Steve Harrington thoughts #platonic stobin & reader

[belovedspector]

They All Say That It Gets Better (But What If I Don't?)

Pairing: Marc Spector x gn!reader

Content/Warnings: Reader is dealing with depression. Some angst, emotional hurt/comfort, use of pet names (baby, honey)

Word Count: ~800

A/N: Companion piece to I Don't Need a Metaphor for You to Know I'm Miserable, but it's not necessary to read that one first. Title is from "teenage dream" by Olivia Rodrigo. I am once again making Marc Spector help me deal with my problems.

Masterlist

You’re exhausted.

You’re always exhausted, these days. Whether you’ve actually accomplished anything that day or not, you constantly feel drained. You could sleep for a full 24 hours and still not have the energy to get out of bed, you think. It’s a tiredness you feel in every part of you, all the way through to your bones.

It’s exhausting, living in your head. There is a constant barrage of negative thoughts, weighing you down even more.

And, God, it’s not like you haven’t been trying to get better. You’ve been doing everything right—gotten prescriptions from psychiatrists, talked to therapists. But, still, the feeling persists: you’re exhausted.

It’s one of those days today, the kind of day where the fact that you managed to brush your teeth is reason to celebrate. You’re sitting on the couch, curled up in a blanket. There’s some sitcom playing on the TV in front of you, but you’re just staring off into space, paying the screen no mind.

That’s how Marc finds you.

“Hey, baby,” he greets when he walks through the door and sees you in the living room.

You’re so zoned out that you don’t hear him, don’t realize he’s come home.

He assesses the situation as he takes off his shoes. Marc has known you long enough to know what’s going on. He knows what a bad day looks like, has had plenty himself, and he likes to think he knows how to deal with them pretty well.

He walks towards you slowly, as if you’re an animal that might get spooked. He lowers himself next to you on the couch and gently puts a hand to your shoulder.

You jolt, eyes wild as they search for the source of the intrusion. You visibly relax when your eyes meet Marc’s, who is watching you carefully.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

If anyone else asked you that question, you’d probably lie and tell them you’re fine. But, when Marc asks you, you feel safe enough to tell him the truth.

“I’m tired,” you say.

“Well, why don’t you take a nap while I make dinner?” Marc suggests.

“No, Marc, I don’t mean—” You sigh before trying again. “I’m exhausted, all the fucking time, no matter what I do.”

“You have depression, baby,” he says. “It’s normal to feel that way.”

“But it shouldn’t be normal!” you argue. You’re not mad at him, but you can’t help but raise your voice a little, frustrated with yourself. “I’m on meds, I go to therapy, and I still feel like shit!”

“So, maybe you need to change your meds,” Marc suggests. “You’ll figure it out, I promise.”

“I’ve been trying to ‘figure it out’ for years, Marc. Nothing ever works.”

“Something’s gotta work, baby. You just haven’t found it yet,” he soothes. “And, you know you have ups and downs. You’re just in a little bit of a rut right now, but you’ll get out of it. You always do.”

Despite yourself, you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You know he’s right; you’ve been here before and have lived to tell the tale. If you’ve done it before, you can do it again. But, you don’t want to have to do this anymore. You just want to feel okay.

Marc must see the emotion clouding your eyes, because he says, “C’mere, baby,” and opens his arms to you. You lean towards his embrace and collapse against him, burying your face into his chest. He places a kiss on the crown of your head. “You’re okay,” he whispers.

It’s that that causes the floodgates to open. You know you must be making a mess of his shirt with your tears, but you can’t help it. After feeling like a zombie all day, it feels nice to be expressing some emotion, even if it’s an unpleasant one.

Marc gives you time, rubbing soothing circles into your back and murmuring soft reassurances all the while. Eventually, you lift your head and harshly wipe at your eyes with your hands. “Sorry,” you mutter, not quite able to meet his eyes.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, honey,” he says, and you know he means it.

“Where do we go from here?” you whisper, finally meeting his eyes, searching the warm, brown depths like they might hold the answers to all your problems.

“Right now, we have dinner and go to bed, and tomorrow, you call your psychiatrist and make an appointment. How’s that sound?” You nod and sniffle. “Good, I guess.”

“It’s not gonna get better overnight,” Marc levels with you, “but it will get better.”

You nod again. “Thank you,” you say, hoping those two, little words are enough to convey how much you appreciate him.

“No need to thank me,” he says. “I’m always here for you, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree.

“Now, how’s about you help me with dinner? There’s this new recipe I’ve been wanting to try—”

You can’t help but smile as you follow Marc into the kitchen. For the first time in days, if not weeks, you’re feeling somewhat optimistic, like maybe things really will be okay. You’re still exhausted, but you feel just a little bit lighter, and it makes all the difference.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think.

#moon knight #mcu #marc spector #marc spector x reader #x reader #jace writes

[drabbles-mc]

Trustfall

Canche x GN!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, light angst

With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I’ve ever written for, I’m aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March.

Prompt: pattern

Word Count: 500

A/N: the way this is reminding me that i have a multichap for this man that's almost done. i need to finish that soon so i can post it and get it out of my drafts lmfao. anyway! enjoy this in the meantime!

It had been so much easier to compartmentalize your relationship with Canche when he was only in Santo Padre for a night or two. The pattern of push and pull was almost fun in a way because it wasn’t a constant. There were no obligations, no worries.

But ever since the night the Yuma charter stormed the clubhouse, it seemed as though he’d taken up residency there. It was rare for you to walk in and not see him, when it used to be the exact opposite.

Even before everything that had happened, the most you and Canche would give each other in front of people were small smiles and knowing glances—the real exchanges always happening after hours and behind closed doors. But these days you couldn’t help but to wonder if he ever even realized you were there. He didn’t owe you anything—that was part of the deal. Still, you couldn’t help but to find it a little strange.

Your night was over even though there were still plenty of men lingering. Marcus had given you the okay to head home and you weren’t looking to argue about it.  You slipped quietly out the side door to get to your car around back.

You were about to unlock your car when you heard footsteps coming up behind you. Assuming it was one of the men from Santo Padre, you spoke before turning around. “Alvarez said that I’m good to go, so do whatev—”

Canche cut your sentence short with a hand on your hip. He turned you around to face him and pinned you back against the driver’s door of your car. Despite his hand still resting on you, he left a sliver of space between you.

You let the back of your head rest against the window of your car. “Was starting to think you just didn’t recognize me anymore.”

“Part of me doesn’t.”

Your brows knit, tied together with confusion and frustration. “What the fuck’s that sup—”

“You thought it was going to be the same? After all the shit that went down?” His grip on your hip tightened. “Shit you didn’t bother telling me about?”

You put your hand between you. “You think they bothered to tell me about any of it?” You scoffed. “Not like you gave me the heads-up when your guys wanted to turn my clubhouse into fucking Swiss cheese.”

A smirk flickered across his face. “Your clubhouse?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I mean.” You paused. “What do you want, Canche?”

“We’re gonna be here for a while. It’d be nice to have someone around that I can stand,” his grip eased, “that I can trust.”

“I didn’t think trust really had anything to do with this.”

His lips curled up for a moment. “It didn’t. Maybe it should.”

You finally let your hand rest against the leather of his kutte. “Maybe.” You felt his tense muscles ease and you nodded towards your car. “C’mon, then.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #canche #canche x reader #canche x you #x reader #x reader fic #mayans mc fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[knowlesian]

i’ve been having some fascinating talks about implicit bias and fandom lately (and implicit bias in fandom) and i only see this stuff really discussed in certain circles where the facts don’t need to be laid out, so i wanted to sort of break it down for anybody who hasn't already seen somebody do this.

okay, so: to start. 

to be flippant, implicit bias is when you Do A Bigotry and you don’t even know it.

i’m gonna focus in on race here because i’ve got the perfect example, but for reference implicit bias covers a wide array of biases and assumptions made about any given group of people, usually thanks to cultural cues or training, etc.

back when falcon and the winter soldier first aired, something fucking fascinating happened.

because one of the things i will say the show did pretty well, especially early in the season, was portray a constant stream of microaggressions and instances of implicit bias aimed sam’s way. it was one of the reasons i broke a years long marvel break and actually bothered to check it out.

in the first episode, there's a scene where sam and his sister sarah visit a bank and attempt to get a loan. the white teller recognizes sam but assumes it must be because he used to play college ball at lsu, when sam says he’s the falcon and turns on the shine to try and get this done the guy just goes ahead and takes a selfie without asking, there's some pretty realistically uncomfortable ‘ah yes, my brother, i too am down!’ bullshit, he talks over sam a bunch and won't let him talk about his plan for the business that would be a reason to give them a loan, then he acts like it’s sam’s fault being an avenger didn’t come with a paycheck and talks down to him about it in a million ways, acts like sam is a charity case and not a fuckin hero, and then is like well it’s just you see. you did not exist for five years, and you did not earn money during that time, and even though you qualify for a loan by the ‘old terms’ there are just so many more people now, sooooooo they just don't seem like good candidates for the loan. not gonna happen.

sarah says she knows it’s about their race; the teller is REAL FUCKIN OFFENDED. he says ‘whoa, easy there, i’m on your side’ in a tone of voice i don’t think i need to describe much, because when a white guy tells a black woman anything that starts with ‘whoa, easy there’ (especially because she was like, okay well that’s racist though) it’s kinda obvious how he said it.

and then, because why not: he asks sam for another selfie, this time with sam posed differently because apparently that first one he took without asking permission was not good enough.

so: i went well jesus. that’s pretty blatant. woof, with the flood of racism. that was like a neon sign.

and then i went online. and to be clear: some people talked about the racism! but it was not a majority of fans.

there was one major category of response i found... somewhat frustrating, but very understandable nonetheless: a flood of canon-based ‘um, ACTUALLY’s about how tony (or pepper) would never forget to support the avengers, or how could tony what a dick, etc etc etc.

almost none of that seemed to mention the racism busting through every seam.

and, look: i’m a pedantic little fucker. back when i consumed comics i was an x-men kid, so this was not my canon rodeo enough to even start being pedantic, but i really do understand that urge.

however, that response missed the entire point of the scene— that sam and sarah live through the endless indignities of racism, that the teller rejected their offer despite the fact that their family had been using that bank for ‘generations’ and the teller knew it, and though he did not know it consciously, he did it because they were black.

which leads me to the second school of thought, and the one that is still pissing me off to this day, a little bit.

fans arguing: okay, but that wasn’t racist! he just denied the loan because there is so much going on. why would you say he was racist? he didn’t say anything racist.

this was so mainstream an opinion the creator of the show had to clarify on twitter: no, folks. that guy Did A Racism.

and i still see people arguing the point sometimes and saying he’s wrong! still! even though he created the show and wrote that fictional man into being!

to this day, there are an odd amount of people who want to argue it’s not racism unless it’s on purpose, and it’s also not really racism until somebody uses a racial slur.

which is... you know, just sort of empirically wrong, but also stealthily loops back around to reinforcing white supremacy.

because, okay, if racism only exists in the most horrible margins and we accept that definition, who does it benefit? who wins and who is actually in control, when we decide that until the hate is so blatant those who set cultural standards go: yep, they did a racism. i see it now, it doesn’t count?

the exact wording on who wins i will leave tactfully in subtext, but i will say this: implicit bias is one zillion percent racism, and part of the reason that kind of subtle racism is so hard to even start to talk about is because people can lean into ‘well maybe they didn’t MEAN that’ or ‘i just think you're reading into it’ or ‘it’s not THAT bad’ or ‘it was just a mistake!’ etc etc etc into forever. 

basically: white supremacy’s second best tool right after violence is silence. that’s why ‘silence is violence’ is such a handy phrase. it’s snappy and it’s true. 

#honestly it's been great to break this shit down in messages #fandom spaces are lovely and also have their problems #getting to talk it out has been Part of This Too