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aeyumicore · 2 months

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☾ .⭒˚ what's mine ♡ zayne x afab reader

⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x afab!reader (very fem!reader)

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, not canon events (completely fictional)

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 10.7k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, first time sex with zayne (not virginity loss), jealous!zayne, dom!zayne, zayne slightly loses control of evol, furniture breaks, lot’s of teasing, fictional characters, size kink, vaginal sex, oral sex f!receiving, tongue fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, slightly drunk sex (not really), tummy bulge, posessive/claiming behavior, let me know if i missed anything!

⋆.˚ ☾ a/n: helloooo writing for my fav zayne again <3 would you guys believe this is actually the first lads fic i ever started but i put it on hold because it was way too elaborate and i didn’t want to make a whole like multi chapter fic? i actually cut out a lotttt of it, it probably would’ve been more like 30k words if i kept the same writing style/detail i had originally, and i just could not do that to myself

also the matthew/intern mentioned in the fic is completely made up and fictional, he is not a reference to any characters! i couldn’t bring myself to use greyson for the purposes of the plot bc i think he and zayne are so cute LOL god i love the jealous angsty feelings trope

pls enjoy hehe i luv u guys <3 also come interact with me on twit @/aeyumicore :’)

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

“will you go to dinner with me?”

you whip your head around to see where the unfamiliar voice came from, coming face to face with one of the surgical interns of the akso hospital. you’d run into him several times before when visiting zayne at work, but never quite got his name.

“me?”

the intern chuckles at your dumbfoundedness, which he thinks is adorable, “yes, you’re y/n right? my name is matthew. i'm one of the surgical interns here. so, will you let me take you to dinner tomorrow?”

zayne chokes on his rice from the seat beside you, patting his chest a few times to clear his throat. you’d decided to have lunch with zayne after your check-up today; well more like you’d forced him to the cafeteria with you against his will. you’d desperately wanted to try the infamous mint chocolate chip jello the hospital cafeteria served, even though you knew it’d be disgusting. and so you both sat at a table in the cafeteria, you with your jello and zayne with a homemade bento box you’d made for him, along with some of his favorite pastries from the bakery down the street.

at his coughs, the intern’s eyes snapped to zayne’s and it was like he’d just then realized zayne was there, the surprise and anxiety written all over his expression. zayne was always someone who commanded respect and fear from his colleagues and subordinates, so much so that matthew had turned pale as a ghost.

“oh! dr. zayne, i’m so sorry i didn’t realize–” but zayne cuts him off with a simple wave of his hand.

“it’s fine. continue your conversation.” you’re a bit taken back by zayne’s nonchalance. sure, you were just childhood friends but it would be nice if zayne had any reaction at all to being asked out right in front of him. you yourself couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards zayne but it was seeming more and more that it was completely one sided.

“i, um…” you’re at a loss for words, not knowing how to let the handsome intern down. matthew was honestly very attractive, and seemed kind enough, but you had hoped to spend your friday night with zayne, though you hadn’t had the chance to ask him yet. he’d been swamped with surgeries and patients the last few days and you hardly got to see him at all. and you missed him thoroughly.

“i actually had plans with zay– i mean dr. zayne,” you glance at zayne, hoping he’ll get the message, but the expression on his face is dark and unreadable.

“no we don’t. you should go,” zayne’s tone is cold and his eyes refuse to meet yours. despite yourself, your heart clenches in disappointment. you know zayne could be obtuse but he was also extremely intelligent and perceptive. he undoubtedly knew you wanted to spend your night with him. but it was becoming more and more apparent he did not want to spend his with you.

“but i–”

“i have plans anyways.” your eyes can’t help but sting as he avoids looking at you. so you try to steel yourself; you were a big girl and a little bit of unrequited affection would not destroy you. keeping your voice steady and blinking back unshed tears of frustration, you look up at matthew, his eyes lighting up at you expectantly, and you try to give him your best smile.

“i…i would love to go to dinner with you!”

you don’t notice the deep scowl on zayne’s face as a dark icy storm brews in his green eyes.

–

you stumbled out of the taxi, your way-too-high heels catching on the foot step almost causing you to trip headfirst into the pavement. you sigh as you catch yourself on the cab door and glance at your hunter watch and see that it’s already 1am.

“get home safe miss, and no more drinks, you hear me?” your cab driver reprimands you teasingly.

“yes sir,” you mock salute him as you wobble onto your feet, thoroughly drunk, “thank you so much! please drive safe. good night sir!”

“good night miss!”

you turn towards your apartment building, sighing in exhausted defeat. what an absolute disaster of a night.

the date was unexpectedly wonderful. matthew was handsome, kind, funny, and a complete gentleman. he brought you to a very fancy and expensive restaurant downtown, so you wore one of your most elegant dresses, not that you had many. it was a simple satin black mid-length evening dress, with a slit that exposed just up to your mid thigh and an open back that accentuates your figure. you’d normally never wear something so sensual on a first date, but you couldn’t deny that the way zayne had reacted, or not reacted, stung your heart. so maybe you did go a little extra tonight because you were hurt. so what?

after dinner, matthew and you took a leisurely stroll at linkon park, with enough time to catch the sunset. as you watched the sun melt into the sea of golden yellows and dusky pinks, matthew kissed you. it was passionate, slow, and soft. the perfect kiss.

except when you moaned out zayne’s name.

and so the night ended as quickly as it began. matthew was as understanding as he possibly could have been, but you could tell it killed anything that could have happened between the two of you. matthew was a surgical intern, so with what little free time he had, he said he couldn’t chance it on a girl who was clearly already in love with someone else, especially if that someone was his boss and mentor. he’d offered to give you a ride back home but you refused, saying you’d grab a cab instead.

so you found yourself at a bar, downing shots of soju to numb the mortification of your blunder but also the feeling of utter patheticness. hours went by as you wallowed in your emotions. you’d had feelings for zayne for as long as you could even remember. and still, you couldn’t tell him or move on from him.

but maybe you would have the guts to tell him if it didn’t feel like he literally could not give two cents about you, beyond as a patient and as his annoying childhood friend. it was literally like pulling teeth to get him to spend any time at all with you lately.

so here you were, stumbling into your apartment building at 1:37 am: drunk, exhausted, and empty. the night breeze raised goosebumps on your exposed thighs as your heels clicked on the pavement in the dark.

you headed toward your apartment, through the main entrance and up the lobby elevator, the alcohol still making your brain swim. luckily you no longer saw double, and your eyelids no longer felt like a ton of bricks.

the elevator door dinged open and you trudged toward your unit, your toes screaming in protest in the confine of your heels. you forced your vision to cooperate with you as you tried to punch in your door code. the error buzz sounded out, again and again, and you groaned in frustration.

in the blurry edges of your vision, a large and slightly scarred hand reached over yours. yelping, you whip yourself around and reach to grab the gun you always had strapped to your thigh. but from the icy cold touch against your fingers and the scars littering the pink skin, you realize exactly who it was.

“zayne?” you did your best not to slur, trapped between him and your front door. you don’t miss how he swears under his breath as his eyes trail down your body, lingering at all your exposed skin, before snapping back up to your face. you can’t even imagine how wrecked you must look right now, mentally kicking yourself for not touching up after the bar. your gloss was undoubtedly smeared from the kiss and the copious alcohol, your hair a bird’s nest from the night breeze, and your mascara smeared from the stray tears of your drunken emotions.

you didn’t do a very good job at steeling your voice because zayne saw right through you, his eyes narrowing as they absolutely drank you in, “you’re drunk?” his voice holds a dangerous edge, as if mad that you’d have the audacity to be drunk. he deftly types your access code in, and gently ushers you into your apartment. you stumble in your heels against his body, and zayne wraps his arm around your waist to catch you before you fall. you flush at the way his hands palm the exposed skin of your lower back.

“m’not drunk,” you protest, swatting his hand away, not wanting your body to give any of your feelings towards him away, but zayne only grips you tighter, fingers flitting between the soft satin material of your dress and the goosebump ridden skin of your back. his arm on your waist feels so right, threatening to make you melt right into his embrace. but you fight the urge, trying to hold onto your annoyance.

you can’t see his eyes but you know they’re rolling in their sockets at your obvious drunkeness. he gently guides you through the threshold of your home and then kneels down before you. the sight of him on the floor in front of your feet makes you reel, hoping the furious blush is masked by the flush of alcohol in your blood.

“w-what are you doing?” you try to step back, but your knees wobble and zayne grips your thigh in place. you shiver at his cold touch on your sensitive skin, a little too high for you to keep any semblance of calm.

“do you want to stay in these deathtraps?” he murmurs as he starts to slip the strappy heels off of your aching feet. his fingers around your ankle tingle as he softly massages the red skin of where the straps dug in.

“zayne? why are you here? did something happen?” your voice wavers still, but zayne’s cold touch is starting to sober you up and clear your vision as your mind tries its best to focus on him. zayne doesn’t respond as he lifts your other foot and slips the other heel off. his fingers linger on your bare legs before he slips your house slippers on your feet, standing back up to tower over you.

“it’s almost 2 in the morning, and you’re just now coming home,” his voice is hard and stern, it’s clear he has things he wants to say but you’re in no mood for a lecture on sexual safety, stds, and stranger danger.

“i was busy,” you snap, your emotions running extra high from everything that had happened today, especially zayne’s nonchalance. but he’s incredibly patient with you, as he always is, taking you by the waist nagain and leading you to your living room couch. you’re too tired to resist, and you desperately need to get off your aching feet.

“how was your date?” zayne sits you on your couch and then heads to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water. his question reminds you of how royally you screwed up today and your mood sours even more.

“fine,” you mutter, trying to keep from snapping at him again. zayne sits beside you and brings the glass of water to your lips, tilting it for you with his fingers on your jaw. you take deep gulps, the cold water soothing your entire sore body. sinking further into the couch, your mind wanders back to your disastrous screw up. you’d called matthew zayne. it literally couldn’t get more mortifying than that.

zayne stares at you and you know he doesn’t believe you, so you murmur again, “it was fine.” but as his intense eyes bore holes into you, your voice cracks under all the feelings you’d stuffed deep down today.

he was here now and it confused you to no end. you’d wanted nothing more than to spend your day with him, but he’d pushed you away. were you really that blind that you’d developed feelings for a man who did not feel even slightly the same way?

your eyes well up with tears at the thought and you try to subtly brush them away by pretending to scratch your cheek, but as always zayne sees right through you.

“did he do something to you? did he get you drunk?” zayne’s voice is calm but hard and threatening.enough to scare you if it weren't for the way he softly gripped your chin, forcing your eyes back to his, using his free thumb to catch the tears before they can slip down your cheek

but through it all, you register the implication of his words. “wh-what? no!” you exclaim, “matthew was a complete gentleman.”

his eyes track yours, unwilling to let go of your gaze, “then why are you crying?”

you blink back your tears before more can fall onto his thumb. your voice wavers as you stare into the hazel green ocean of his eyes, and you answer his question with a question of your own, “why are you here zayne?”

“i wanted to make sure you got home safe.” your chest constricts with unrelenting emotions, but your drunken haze makes you even more steadfast in your stubborn resolve.

“well i’m home, safe,” you avert your eyes, knowing if zayne keeps staring at you with that intensity you’ll start to unravel and confess everything.

“why did you take a cab home?”

your eyes snap to his, “how did you know i took a cab?” and this time zayne’s eyes refuse to meet yours, “zayne? how long have you been waiting for me?”

zayne doesn’t respond, instead brushing the tangles out of your hair. you try to get his attention by tugging at his tie, the alcohol making you feel much bolder than you normally ever would.

you can see his adam's apple bob as he lets himself be drawn in, only slightly, towards you. at your pout, he sighs in defeat, prying your hands away so he can loosen the tightened hold around his neck, “i’ve been waiting for you…forever.”

before you can respond, he clears his throat and continues, “i got here at 9 and waited in my car when i knocked and you didn't answer.”

at your bewildered expression, he sighs and elaborates, “i just wanted to see you get back home safely. but when i saw you get out of that cab i needed to come check on you.”

your brows furrowed as your sobering self tried to do the math in your head. zayne can practically see the steam coming out of your ears and smiles lopsidedly, chuckling under his breath at how adorable you were being.

“you waited for 7 hours?!” you exclaimed, eyes wide.

his grin deepens and you can see his eyes sparkling with laughter , “you are drunk. why are you drunk?”

you purse your lips shut, unwilling to speak. with all the overwhelming emotions swarming your mind, you knew if you started talking now you would surely never stop.

at your silence, zayne prods gently, “talk to me, y/n.” his voice is deep and commanding in a way that almost always gets you to listen to him.

you zip your lips shut and turn away, doing your damn best to not give in. but zayne’s touch, still on your cheeks, forces you back towards his eyes.

“be a good girl,” he demands softly, his eyes searching yours for answers.

blowing out your cheeks like a child, you’re unwilling to give up the attitude, “i’m drunk because i was drinking.”

“did matthew take advantage of you?” zayne’s jaw is locked and the intensity in his eyes is blinding, damn near dangerous.

“no! zayne, no. i went to a bar to drink alone, after our date,” you try to hide the embarrassment from seeping into your voice.

“why? did he do something to you?” his voice is still threatening, and you sigh at the unrelenting questions. you knew zayne well enough to know he wasn’t going to let up, so it would just be easier on you if you told him everything that happened.

“matthew was amazing,” you don’t notice the way zayne’s eyes darken at your praises for the intern, “the date was fantastic. and after, we saw the sunset.” his expression is still unreadable and you start to fidget under his intense gaze, not knowing in the slightest what he was thinking.

“and then he kissed me. we kissed. and that was it. i went to the bar and he went home. end of story.”

zayne’s fists ball so tightly his knuckles turn white, but he keeps his gaze steady. he doesn’t speak, and you’re scared of the tense silence that falls between you two.

“he couldn’t at least accompany you? make sure you were safe?” you can tell zayne is angry by the way his feet taps uncharacteristically erratically against the floor, “driven you home?”

his questions make it impossible for you to forget about your horrifying mistake today and you just feel so incredibly bad for matthew. the regret and embarrassment gnaw at your mind like parasites. and so against your better, albeit slightly still drunken, judgment, you finally blow.

“he left because i was thinking of you, okay? matthew was a gentleman, he was funny, kind, and charming. and yet i was thinking of you the whole time. and so he left and i went to a bar and got drunk all on my own, okay?”

“you were thinking of me?” zayne’s voice is an annoying mix of bewilderment, intrigue, and what sounds like mockery, which just infuriates you.

“i am always thinking of you zayne! i thought about you at dinner, i thought about you when we watched the sunset, and i thought about you when he kissed me,” you burst, your drunken lack of inhibitions leaving nothing unsaid.

zayne’s face is unreadable again, but there’s a heat in his eyes that makes you tremble in your seat, “you were thinking of me when he kissed you?”

unable to bear his unrelenting repetitive questions anymore, you explode, “yes zayne! and when he kissed me i called out for you!” the confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think twice about it. it takes you a second to realize what you’d just blurted out and you bury your face in your hands, wanting nothing more than to scream at the top of your lungs. unfortunately it was 2am and you had neighbors that most definitely would not appreciate that.

you feel his strong hands grab your wrists gently, prying your hands away from your face, wanting to see you, “you called for me?” his tone is as amused as it is intrigued and it frustrates you to no end, the shame weighing heavily on your mind.

“don’t tease me right now zayne,“ you warn weakly, “i am always thinking about you. but you…” your voice trails off to a shallow whisper, “you don’t seem to think about me.”

zayne is silent but his eyes are as intense as you’ve ever seen them, staring into your soul. the silence is thick in the air as you refuse to be the one to break it.

finally, he speaks, voice clouded with indiscernible emotions, “is that what you really think? that i don’t think about you?”

“do you really think i waited for 5 hours, in my car, for you to come back because i don’t think about you?” your breath catches in your throat at the pure and raw growl in his voice.

before you can respond, he continues, “i think about you every second of every day. i thought about you all day, thought about you on your date with matthew.”

zayne shifts so that he can cup your face with both his hands, drawing his face closer but not close enough, “i thought about him getting to hear your voice, getting to touch you…to kiss you. it drove me insane.”

your feelings churn in your stomach and into your chest, making it hard to breathe. the way zayne is looking at you, his hands holding your face so possessively, threatens to stop your heart altogether. you’re drawn to him all over again, only this time it feels like he might be drawn to you too.

“w-why?”

zayne doesn’t speak, and you watch as his eyes flutter to your parted lips as you pant out your breaths, eyes fighting to stay open amidst all the tension enveloping the two of you.

“why did you push me to go with him then?”

his eyes force themselves onto yours, as if unwilling to leave your lips, “i made a mistake.”

his revelations quickly sober you up, and you’re left feeling vulnerable but bold. you softly grab a fist full of his tie, pulling him closer. you can faintly hear him groan under his breath, but he lets himself be guided towards you. your lips are so close to each other that you’re inhaling each other in, and you beg gently, “kiss me, zayne.”

zayne wastes no time at all, threading his fingers from your cheek into your hair, pulling your face the remainder of the distance to his own.

your first kiss with zayne is nothing like you’d daydreamed it would be. you’d imagined the patient and reserved surgeon to be soft, gentle, taking his time with you. you’d expected it to be passionate but reserved, like the handsome raven haired man himself.

and while the passion was undeniably there, what you didn’t expect was the bruising claiming heat that came with it. zayne’s soft lips marked you as his own, a lifetime’s worth of emotions evident in the way he molded himself against you. with every twitch of his lips, zayne laid claim to what was his. he kissed you like you might disappear at any moment, as if this was all a dream.

and when his tongue swiped across the parting of your lips, asking for permission to enter, you gladly relented control and authority. after all, you were his. you think you had been for some time.

you hadn’t expected your first kiss with zayne to be like this, and yet it was everything you wanted and more.

when you shift yourself to climb on top of him and straddle him on your couch, zayne reluctantly pulls away, hands still gripping the back of your head, “y/n, we should stop.” but he can’t stop his hands from leaving your soft hair and resting on your hips, almost like a reflex. his words say one thing but his hands just can't seem to pry themselves off of you.

you’re taken aback by his words, unable to stop the insecurity and hurt that paints your face. zayne notices instantly, one of his hands leaving your hips to stroke your cheek, hooking some of your hair behind your ear. you lean into his hand, the whiplash starting to exhaust you as much as it kept you on your toes.

“i want to,” he whispers hoarsely as you squirm on top of him, answering your unsaid thoughts, “i can’t even convey how much i’ve fucking wanted to. but you’re drunk. and the first time i finally take you…i want you to feel every second of it.”

your eyes flutter at his words, stomach clenching in anticipation. having fully sobered up a while ago, before he even kissed you, you can’t help but beg a little, “i’m not drunk anymore. and even if i was… i want you. i’ve wanted you…forever.”

zayne swears, his eyes going full doctor mode, and you can tell he’s inspecting every inch of you to try and discern if you’re truly sober or not. you fidget nervously under his intense stare, to which his hands grip your waist painfully tight to keep you in place.

“stop,” he grits out forcefully, as if in pain. you do your best to still in his lap, and that’s when you feel the unmistakable bulge of his erection underneath your parted dress that had ridden up to bunch at your hips, right against the pantyhose against your cunt.

“are you sure this is what you want?” he groans as your body presses deeper into his lap, “because once…we start i won’t be able to stop.”

his words send a shiver down your spine, the heated warning doing nothing but arousing you to your core. through your hooded eyes, you nod eagerly at him, “m’sure zayne. won’t want to stop.”

he smirks at you, a heart stopping smile that melts your brain and cunt simultaneously into a leaking mess, “you asked for it love.”

before you can even have the chance to physically combust at the affectionate pet name, zayne whisks you into the air, scooping you under your exposed knees effortlessly. you yelp, clutching onto his neck as he carries you like a bride into your bedroom, navigating your apartment like he owned it. he bent down to capture your lips with his again, like he couldn’t physically wait to get you to your bed before claiming you again.

you feel the cold press of your sheets against your spine as zayne sets you down gently, and settles in between your thighs on top of you. his eyes absolutely devour you whole, raking up and down your exposed satin clad skin, “you look beautiful. i’ve been wanting to tell you all night.” his praise is throaty with desire and it makes you squeeze your thighs together against his body in anticipation. your face heats at his words, and you run your palms up and down his abdomen, the material of his dress shirt feeling like silk against your burning skin.

zayne grins and chuckles, mostly to himself, but the sound catches your attention and you find yourself pouting in self-consciousness, “what’s funny?”

zayne’s long fingers trace the outlines of your body under the satin dress, eliciting soft moans from you that please him to his core, “you just look so beautiful.” his fingers reach the bottom of your dress and begin to stroke the fabric of your pantyhose, inching up under your dress, so torturously slowly, “you wore this for him, yet i’m the one that’s going to tear it off you.”

your body trembles at his words, the pool between your legs growing wetter. you can feel yourself growing impatient, only wanting his body to press onto yours, to suffocate your.

“zayne please, don’t make me wait any more,” you murmur as you sit up on your elbows, pressing your forehead against his. you heartbeat is quick and your rapid breaths fan across his face.

his eyes darken at your pleas, the hazel hues appearing almost a light brown, “fucking hell y/n, you’re going to drive me insane.” he sits up on his knees, loosening his tie before undoing it completely and discarding it on the floor next to your bed. you bite your lip as you watch him undo the top three buttons of his shirt, his toned chest on display under it.

leaning back down, he presses a bruising kiss against your swollen lips. his hands wander to the thin straps of your dress, gently tugging until they slip off your shoulders, letting him tug your dress down until your breasts are exposed. his tongue against yours is unrelenting, marking every inch of your mouth as his.

detaching himself from you, he buries his face into your neck, his cold lips incredibly soothing against your lust burned skin. you cry out when you feel his teeth softly sink into the skin of your pulsepoint, as he suckles on you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

“zayne,” you gasp out, his tongue and teeth working in tandem to have your mind filled with nothing but his mouth on you, “please.”

he trails down your neck and collar, inhaling you into his lungs at every opportunity. you feel his smile against your skin as he reaches your breasts, your nipples pebbled from the lust. he voice is muffled against you, “please what, my love?”

“i…” you’re too mortified to say the things you want him to do, so the silence overtakes you. unhappy with your hesitation, zayne bites into the supple flesh above your pert nipple, eliciting a string of moans and squeals from you. he’s instantly using his tongue to soothe the pain away, quickly replacing it with waves of raw pleasure.

zayne lifts his head, staring at you expectantly, “i can’t continue if you don’t tell me what you want.”

his unrelenting teasing drives you to the edge of madness, your arousal evident by the way it leaks through your panties and your pantyhose. but you’re stubborn, still refusing to speak.

“good girls listen to their doctors don’t they?” he places fleeting kisses onto your goosebump riddled areolas, careful to purposefully neglect your increasingly sensitive nipples.

“should doctors really be this intimate with their patients?” you retort like a brat, wanting to dish back all of his incessant teasing.

he smiles at you, thoroughly amused at your insolence, “i suppose not, but am i really just your doctor?” with that he captures your waiting nipples into his mouth. you cry out at the incredible feeling of his cold lips on your breasts but his warm tongue on your nipple, your lower body thrusting up uncontrollably into his crotch.

he groans into your chest as you brush against his throbbing erection, restricted by the confines of his pants. against the heat of your womanhood, zayne hardens impossibly further, feeling like he might actually explode against the constraint. the sounds of your pleasure and your cries for him make it difficult for him to concentrate.

switching to your other nipple, zayne uses one hand to undo his belt, letting it fall to the ground with his tie. he undoes the button and zipper his pants, yanking them down with such feral urgency. when his cock was finally free, he broke away from your chest, hissing in relief. you look down and you’re met with the realization of why he was in so much pain.

zayne was large. in a way that terrified you to your very core. you could imagine that the restraint of his briefs alone would be uncomfortable, painful even, when holding something like that back.

zayne catches your stare and he grips your chin between his fingers, guiding you to his eyes instead, “it’ll fit baby, don’t worry.”

you fight to keep your lip from quivering, trying not to get lost in his green eyes, “will it?”

“i’ll make it fit, but first let me prepare you love,” he says matter-of-factly, pressing a kiss to the bridge of your nose. the certainty in his voice turns you unbelievably on and you find yourself needing to please him. your hand seeks out his erection, grasping it firmly into your fingers.

he groans at the slightest touch, knees buckling into the bed beneath you. you start with languid and deliberate strokes, feeling every vein pulse under your fingers. your thumb finds his large engorged head, already leaking with pre cum, feeling every smooth surface of his cock under your touch. while zayne writhes on top of you, you revel in his glorious manhood, everything about it utterly perfect and terrifying.

as you touch him, zayne leans into the crook of your shoulder, laying claim to your sensitive neck. he marks every inch of bare skin he can find, leaving a trail of red and wet bruises in his wake.

your entire palm is wet with his leaking arousal, as he moans so closely into your ear. gently, he pries your palm away from him, sitting back up onto his knees, smirking satisfyingly down at the marks he’d left, “god, i’ve waited so long to have you.”

you reach down to shimmy out of your pantyhose and black evening dress, leaving you in your black lace thong, naked, willing, and pliant before him. you see him gulp harshly, his eyes hazy with need, and you sit up to level with him, “so take me zayne.”

a low growl rips from his throat, as he pushes you back onto the bed, setting your head against your wooden headboard. zayne tortures you, kissing down your collar, your chest, your naval, and finally down the soft mound of your pelvis.

zayne seems almost feral as he looks at your lace covered cunt and back up at you, “did you really wear this for him?”

“n-no,” you whine, “i wouldn't have ever l-let him. he wasn't you.”

zayne seems somewhat placated by your response, hooking his cold fingers into the waistband, his voice a low grumble, “that’s my good girl. no one will ever see you in or out of these, but me. right?”

your brain fogs over as he slips your soaked panties down your legs, his breath hitching seeing the string of clear slick clinging to your cunt.

“fuck.” he’s lost in his stares, in absolute awe of the meal before him, carving every single perfect centimeter into his memory. you squirm under his intense stare.

“zayne please don’t make me wait anymore,” you wine, crying out as he bends down and his lips graze the apex of your slit.

his voice is incredibly smug, “you are so beautiful when you beg for me.” you sigh in frustration as his lips and fingers continue to just barely graze your needy body.

“zayne, please,” your body thrusts into his, but he holds you back down, almost impatiently.

“behave yourself, y/n. you can do that for me, can’t you?” his voice is full of command, making you back down instantly, shivering at the suspense of his words.

“i didn't wait this long to have you just to rush all the things i want to do to you,” he all but purrs, as his lips find your soaking slit.

the room is filled with your lewd cries as zayne’s tongue licks a stripe from your clit to your throbbing hole. as your doctor, zayne knew the ins and outs of your body but you never expected him to know you like this. like his tongue was designed for nothing else but to deliver you the most unimaginable pleasure in this world.

zayne groans when his tongue enters you for the first time, the quivers resonating straight to your core. his nose brushes against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, the vibrations of his own lust filled grunts bringing you closer to releasing all over his skilled mouth.

your thighs clench against his face, and you almost worry you might suffocate him. you try to pry them away from him, but he only grips them with his strong hands, bringing them closer to his face, wanting nothing more than to be yours, wholly and irrevocably.

“you taste better than i ever imagined,” he moans out, staring into your eyes from between your legs. you blush at the filth of his words and the glistening slick smeared across his lips and chin.

“did you – ahh hah – think about me often?” you tease between the sounds that spill out of your mouth uncontrollably.

he doesn’t answer, instead capturing your entire clit into his lips, sucking in earnest. you feel his smirk as you squeal out, hands digging into the fabric of your sheets and tugging hard. his hands knead your ass as he continues to eat, positively starved.

“z-zayne i-i can’t take much more,” you slur, your toes curling against his sides as he goes back to spearing his tongue in and out of you, using the tip of his nose to massage your clit, inhaling the smell of your arousal into his lungs.

“yeah? is my girl gonna make a mess for me?” he breathes into you, his hands reaching up to toy with your nipples. you cry in response, feeling the coil in your gut tightening beyond belief, the pleasure threatening to make you explode.

“cum into my mouth love, let me taste you,” he whispers breathlessly into your cunt, slipping his middle finger inside of you, the wet sounds of his skin pounding into yours filling the room. you come done instantly, screaming as your back arches off the bed and you release all over zayne’s waiting mouth, hands ripping at his soft hair.

“that’s it baby, look at you cumming from just one finger,” he muses, working you through your orgasm with just his middle finger. you let out a stream of broken moans, unable to form any words.

“fuck you’re this tight around just one of my fingers?” he murmurs before dipping back down to devour everything you give him.

he laps up your spend eagerly and diligently, not letting a single drop go to waste. refusing to relent against your twitching clit, zayne devours you until the overstimulation lights your pussy on fire. he’s always had a sweet tooth and it looks like he’s found his absolute favorite dessert, unwilling to give it up any time soon.

“such a messy girl,” he mumbles to himself, the clear strings of arousal sticking from your wet thighs to his chin.

your thighs tremble at the discomfort of overstimulation, doing your best to back away from him, “mmm zayne, s’too sensitive. no more, please.”

he relents reluctantly, looking utterly displeased with having his treat taken away. as he sits up, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans forward into you, tapping your lips with his thumb.

“open,” he commands forcefully, bringing his soaked middle finger up to you. you part your lips obediently, welcoming the taste of you on his skin. his eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a deep heated moan at the feel of your tongue on him, tasting everything he got to taste. his cock literally felt like a ton of bricks needing to be pleased.

releasing his finger, you reach for his length again, “i-i want to make you feel good too.”

zayne presses his cold lips to yours, simultaneously undoing the buttons of his shirt. he pulls aways to shrug the clothing off his broad shoulders, giving you an eyeful of his glorious physique. he shivers, letting you jerk his erection up and down, but pushing you down when you try to get on your knees before him.

“next time. we have all the time in the world,” he whispers, pushing you against the headboard, holding your cheek in his large hand, “but right now i need to be inside you.”

the smoldering fire in his eyes makes your mouth dry, and you nod meekly. the promise of a ‘next time’ is enough to have you ready for him again. your cunt still quivered, recovering from your previous orgasm, but pooling at the hoarse need in his tone.

as your head lays on a pillow against the headboard of your bed, zayne lifts you from the small of your back and shoves another pillow behind you, so that you’re elevated towards him, served on a silver platter.

“spread your legs for me,” he growls, the urgency in his voice leaving little room to protest. and so you obey, widening your legs for him, watching as he admires the area between your thighs like it was

his hand reaches to cup you, clit caught against his palm and fingers toying with your hole, “who does this belong to?”

but you can’t hear him through the searing pleasure of his touch against your over sensitive body, the blood pounding in your ears like drums. looking at where his hand meets your body, you cry out at his ministrations against you, your thighs trembling in shivers.

with his free hand zayne grabs your chin, slipping his thumb into your mouth, harshly forcing your eyes to his, “don’t look away. be a good girl and answer me.”

although his words are driven with lust, they remind you of the emotional turmoil you’d been weathering because of your feelings for the man in front of you.

“m’yours zayne, always been yours,” tears well in your eyes and you hope he can understand the weight behind your words, behind all the lust and arousal filled craze.

zayne stares back at you, and his eyes hold an entire galaxy of emotions that match the colors of his irises: desire, devotion, awe…and love.

“and i am yours,” his words strike your heart and you lean up to slot your mouth against his. as he kisses you, he lines up his thick length with your cunt, teasing your clit with his engorged tip, his pre cum mixing with your spend that still leaked out from your prior climax. you cried into his open mouth at his teases, your back arching off the pillow and further into his cock. at your movement, his head catches onto your throbbing and waiting hole, eliciting a deep grunt from him.

he pulls away, groaning, “so impatient, you want it that bad?” you whimper, burying your face into his neck and latching onto his pulse point to save yourself from having to answer.

“p-please…” you whisper into his ear. he groans, fishing through the pocket of his pants as he pulls them off of his legs.

“please what, love?” he smirks at you, pulling his wallet out, now just in his briefs pulled down to let his massive erection free.

you gulp, staring at the way he stands so proudly against his naval, reaching comfortably to his belly button. his girth rivals that of at least three of your fingers.

the rustling of plastic snaps you out of your shameless ogling. zayne places a condom packet between his teeth, tearing it with one hand. you gulp at the sight of him, but you protest, “i–i um,” you clear your throat, trying to work up the courage to vocalize what you want, “you don’t have to use that.”

zayne’s dark eyes catch yours, and the edge in his voice is dangerous, a warning, “don’t tempt me. i need to protect you.”

your face burns as you try again., “w-what i mean is, well as my doctor you know i’m clean.” you do your best to stop your voice from wavering, “and i-i um i’m on the pill.”

zayne’s eyebrows quirk as his irises darken with heat, “how come i didn't know that?

“i’ve been using an online service for a few months,” you say sheepishly, “s-so you don’t have to use that.”

zayne catches on, a satisfied smirk gracing his features, “is that so?” he teases his entire length on your slit, practically fucking you along the lips of your womanhood. using his swollen tip, he taps your clit forcefully, eliciting a throaty yelp from you.

“tell me what you want.” you shiver at the pure feral domineer in his voice.

“p-please zayne, i want it. i need it.”

“what do you need baby?”

you groan in frustration, but give into his demands, “i-i need you zayne, need you inside. need it so bad.” the way you can see his breath hitch in his throat fills you with confidence, so you lean closer until your bottom lip brushes against his, “need to feel you inside, please zayne.”

his jaw locks as he grits out forcefully, “i will give you everything.”

zayne holds his cock with one hand, lining it up with your entrance. his other hand grips the wooden beams of your bed frame, “can you take it y/n?”

if you’re being completely honest, you’re not sure you can. though you weren’t a virgin, you had never even seen a man so large, let alone attempted. but at zayne’s expectant expression, you nod eagerly, “y-yes i can, i-i can try.”

“good girl,” he mutters, before sinking himself into you. the stretch is so much worse than you imagined it would be, practically splitting you in half. you squealed, clawing at his biceps as he did his best to enter you. feeling so incredibly stuffed, you look down only to see he’s barely just gotten his tip inside.

the vein in zayne’s forehead throbs as his jaw slackens, a string of swears leaving his lips, “jesus you’re like a vice down there. i need you to loosen up love, or else i’ll never be able to get inside.”

you pant against him, not knowing what to do but to watch the way he stares intently at your tummy. the heat and desire in his expression arouses you beyond belief, and you unconsciously squeeze your velvet walls in excitement.

zayne’s knuckles turn white as he grips the headboard for support, the veins in his forearms bulging as he groans out, “fuck baby please. are you trying to squeeze it off?”

“sorry, m’sorry. s’too big,” you wail, hands gripping his shoulders for support. the stretch is nothing like you’ve ever felt, and you don’t know if you can take much more than what’s already inside you. “z-zayne it’s too big i c-can’t,” you pant, doing your best to relax and loosen up your muscles.

“you can, you’re doing so good for me y/n,” zayne huffs out, pushing deeper into you, the slick from your forming arousal and his pre cum starting to make the stretch easier. the drag of his cock against your gummy walls starts to feel so torturously delicious, like your body was made to take him in.

finally, he eases into you, eyes unable to look away from where your bodies connected.

“if you could see how – hah – beautiful you look like this, spread out for me,” he grunts, being as gentle as he can manage, when all he wanted was to ram into your warm and tight cunt, squeezing him so tightly.

“been waiting for the day i could – shit – finally be inside you. drove me fucking insane thinking about you and matthew.”

his words are enough to have you leaking all over your joined bodies, the slick dampening his pelvis and your thighs. as he seats himself in you as deeply as he can, his tip brushing against your womb, he lets out a shaky breath of ecstasy.

“is this what you – hah – thought about? when you were with another man?” his words are claiming, making butterflies explode in your gut and your cunt to flutter around him. you can only moan and drool as his body thuds into yours, over and over.

“sweetest little princess cunt i’ve ever felt,” he swears, languidly withdrawing from you before pushing back in, knocking the breath out of you. with your head leaning against the back of your bed frame you can see every second of his glistening length burrowing in and out of you, like it absolutely owned you.

“z-zayne,” you moan, nails digging into his shoulders, “please.” you don’t know exactly what you’re begging for, but you can’t stop the words from coming.

“hah, if you want something you have to – fuck – ask for it love,” he pants, doing his best not to get lost in the pure pleasure of finally getting to be inside you.

his words send you reeling, the ecstasy increasing with each deliberate and hard drag. you fight through the fucked out haze, vision blurred from your hooded lids, “hah - harder please.”

at your request zayne stutters for a brief second, your cunt squeezing so tight he could barely move, “anything for you.”

with his hand clutching the frame, he uses his other hand to rub harsh circles onto your swollen clit. his pelvis smacks against your thighs and ass so hard that the bed posts knock into the wall repeatedly, the skin slapping sounds mixing with the sounds of the wood against the plaster.

at the added stimulation your eyes roll into your brain, your eyelids weighing down heavily. zayne leans in until his chest presses against your breasts, your breaths heaving in tandem. his eyes follow yours, forcing you to hold eye contact with every deep thrust into your soul. against your will, your eyelids flutter as the pleasure starts to overcome your fighting consciousness.

you can vaguely make out zayne’s smirk, as his hand leaves the frame to cup your chin in his palm, “don’t tell me you’re already worn out, love.” his fingers flick against your clit.

you yelp out, nails digging into his back with one hand while the other hand smacks his shoulder gently. you pout, “you’re so mean to me.”

he leans down to kiss your shoulder, his pace never faltering. he chuckles against your skin, “but you can take it, right? you always take me so well.” the double meaning of his words makes you clench in excitement, the praise making your chest tighten.

he groans as you clench down onto him, threatening to make him blow, “hah so fucking tight. you like that huh baby? you like it when i praise you?” he thumbs your clit with more intensity, wanting to see you come absolutely undone for him.

you bite your lip to keep from screaming, nodding eagerly in response to his words. zayne’s thrusts only grow in intensity, as if he’s trying to reach your esophagus from your cunt. you’re a mess of uncontrollable moans and mewls, unable to stop your eyes from rolling back and your tongue from hanging out as he fucked you into oblivion.

“look at you,” he grins arrogantly, voice husky with desire and raw possessiveness, “going on a date with my intern just to end up with my cock stuffed in you.”

you whine at his words, simultaneously not wanting to think about matthew but also being so turned on by the dominating undertone of his words. his fingers abandon your clit, much to your disappointment, to trace the bulge his cock makes in your tummy. his other hand pulls your chin down so you can watch him.

“look how deep i am, love,” he grunts. you watch in awe as the small bump in your stomach bulges and disappears with the rhythm of zayne’s thrusts. with every withdrawal, zayne’s impressive cock glistens with slick, the throbbing veins bulging enough to make you drool. absolutely entranced, you fit your hand under his to stroke at his cock as it pushed through your tummy.

zayne swears as you caress his cock through the bump in your tummy, throwing his head back to catch his breath. his hand goes back to paw at your clit, trying to stop himself from blowing his load into you right there.

as the climax builds in your gut, you throb around his impossibly hardened length spearing in and out of you, to which he twitches inside of you. the sounds of your combined whimpers and grunts, the lewd smacks of his damp slick dampened skin against yours, and the bed slamming against the wall overwhelm your brain until you can only think about zayne, his cock inside you, and the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“zayne, i-i’m close,” you cry, hand abandoning your stomach to loop around his neck, digging your nails into his damp skin.

“fuck – i know love, i can feel you trying to squeeze it out of me,” he grunts, body slamming into yours so hard that your body smacks against the headboard.

“i’m gonna – gonna cum,” you cry, nails digging into the taut muscles of his back.

“no,” he demands, and you do your best not to gape at him. he gasps through his next strokes, “be a good girl and wait for me. i want to feel you finish all over me when i cum inside you.”

“o-okay,” you say, but you’re honestly unsure if you’ll be able to wait, the waves of pleasure crashing into you so roughly it threatens to overtake you right then and there.

“that’s my girl,” gripping your chin, zayne leans in to kiss you again, his tongue claiming your warm and waiting mouth. your eyes squeeze shut and your body tenses as you try to quell the raging tides of the impending climax, moaning endlessly into zayne’s mouth.

you pull away to breathe, your lungs needing as much oxygen as possible to withstand the ecstasy. zayne’s hand grips the wooden beams above your bed again, his knuckles turning white as he watches the pleasure contort your beautiful face.

“i-i can’t – ”

“you can, baby. i’m – hah – almost there, just hold on a little longer for me,” he grunts. the pleasure and pain of his edging threatens to knock you unconscious, but you nod and throw your head back as your eyes roll backwards again.

through your fucked out haze you can vaguely see a strange icy sheen forming on the wooden beams of your bed’s headboard. you follow the path of luminous crystals and realize they’re forming from zayne’s hand that grips against the frame so tightly his knuckles are pale and taut, as he comes closer to exploding inside you.

unable to shake yourself out of the pleasure, you can’t find the words to warn zayne. you continue to watch in awe as the beautiful iridescent flakes frost over the dull old wood. his palm is covered in a layer of snow white frost, the tiny snowflakes dancing around his skin as it grips the furniture so forcefully. you realize he’s losing control of his evol, because of you. and the idea of that threatens to push you head first into your second orgasm of the night.

it happened so fast. as zayne bullies himself in and out of you, thrusting as if his life depended on it, the wooden beams of your headboard cracks in his hand, the wood turning brittle against his icy evol, and shattering under the force of his bruising grip.

zayne shields your body with his own as frozen wooden splinters fly everywhere, his thrusts stuttering as the sound of cracking wood pierces the air. you can tell he’s scared, constantly worried about losing control of his evol around you like this. his hands clasp together, massaging his wrists and trying to calm the unpredictable storm of his evol. you can feel him about to pull away, to get away from you and keep you safe.

you hug him close to you as he tries to pull away not wanting him to stop, not caring the least bit about the splintering wood falling into your hair. the worry and disgust with himself is evident in his eyes, and it tears at your heart so you do your best to comfort him, “s’okay zayne, it’s not a big deal, i promise.”

but his eyes are far away, thick with emotions that make your chest lurch. you hold his face in your hands trying to get him to look at you and not the splintered mess of furniture above you. you lock your knees around his waist. “zayne baby,” you soothe gently, “look at me. look at me please.”

his frantic eyes meet yours under the guidance of your palms. you watch as the storm in his eyes calms down ever so slightly when they meet yours. you brush your thumb against his cheek, whispering, “don’t stop, please. m’so close. i need you.”

but zayne is hesitant, only filled with worry for you, his thrusts halting altogether but still thick and solid in you. his jaw clenches down, “did i hurt you?”

“not at all,” you reassure, hand stroking his anguish laced face, “i don’t care, please make me cum zayne, want to cum for you s’bad.”

zayne continues his thrusts slowly, trying to shake away his anger at himself, “hah – i’m so sorry y/n, i’ll buy you a new one, okay?”

“y-yes whatever you want, but please just fuck me,” you plead, not wanting your climax to slip through your fingers, “please don’t stop.”

your begging is enough to have zayne going feral again, slowly regaining the vigor in his thrusts. his hand dusts the wooden fragments away from your hair. your head sinks deep into the pillow, and falls back to peer at the gaping hole in your bed frame, slightly in awe of his sheer primal strength. it honestly turned you on unbelievably, edging you closer and closer.

“zayne i c-can’t wait anymore, m’sorry m’cumming,” you wail, your nails digging through his back as the ecstasy explodes in your body, from the tips of your curled toes to your fucked out brain. your walls flex against zayne’s vigorous thrusts as he continues to chase his own high, briefly forgetting about the furniture he’d ruined in his brief slip of control.

your eyes pull away from the snowflakes melting on the splintered headboard and fixate on zayne’s eyes as your vision spots with fireworks, his cock pistoning in and out of you relentlessly.

he lifts your thighs up until they press against his chest, your muscles aching in protest. your ankles rest on his shoulders as he drives himself into your guts at this angle. he leans down and your body screams at the stretch in your muscles but he hits you so deeply like this you can’t feel anything but pleasure. he hits your g spot at every thrust, your body barely recovering from the previous orgasm as he steers you straight into another.

“sh-shit,” he groans, his eyes hooded as they bore into yours, “squeezing me so fucking tight, are you trying to milk me? if you keep clenching down like that i’m gonna – fuck!” he swears at your nails digging into his broad back, dragging deep scratches into him as he fucks you roughly through the pleasure.

“p-please zayne i want to feel you,” you cry, “cum inside me, please.” as zayne pounds into you with no semblance of mercy, stars blur your vision, your body doing your best to accommodate him and the endless waves of overwhelming ecstasy. your wet release splashes against your skin with every thrust of his hard muscular body.

“f-fuck i’m gonna cum so deep inside you baby,” he groans with his eyes intently staring into yours, “this pussy is all mine.”

“you’re mine,” his voice is intense, a primal growl of urge and possessiveness, claiming you as his with both words and with his body. he bends back down, pressing a wet open mouthed kiss into you, tongue intertwining with yours needily. both his hands threads through your hair, tugging gently as he rocks into you. he groans into your mouth, body shuddering as he finally releases into you.

zayne rips away from your lips to rock onto his knees before you and carry you onto his lap, wanting to be able to hold you as close as possible as he emptied rope after rope inside of you. the angle allowed him to literally fuck his spend up into you. your legs wrap around his waist and your hands around his neck, unable to even squeal at the sudden movement, only able to drool out against the crook of his neck.

his spend is so deliciously hot inside of you, as your pussy quivers at the warmth, squeezing him even more. he forces his tongue into you again, wanting to be attached to you in every way as he pumps every thick rope into your waiting womb. as he tugs on your bottom lip, body still pressed on top of your legs, cock hitting your sweetest spots, you release all over him again.

your eyes squeeze shut as your cunt pulsates uncontrollably, pulling more and more of his essence into you. zayne’s thick muscles shake under you, the waves of his orgasm rocking his entire body into yours.

you pant as his bounces slow, his unending stamina finally coming to a halt as his sweaty chest heaves against your trembling breasts. he presses gentle kisses to the deep hickeys he’d marked onto your skin, using his broad hands to caress your bruise splotched throat.

the sound of satisfied pants and soft moans blankets the two of you as you snuggle into him, never wanting this moment of post sex bliss to end. your collective spend begins to leak down onto zayne’s lap, your poor cunt physically unable to hold the copious amount of spend inside of you.

as his member softens it begins to slip out of you uncomfortably, so you squeeze in an effort to keep him in you as long as physically possible.

zayne swears, his eyes heated and his gentle grip on your throat tightening just slightly, as he warns you darkly, “behave. unless you want me to take you again.”

and though the idea of him bringing you to orgasm again, and many times after, sounds like heaven on earth, you don’t think your poor cunt can possibly handle any more pleasure for tonight. he chuckles when you ease up, stroking the curvature of your naked spine with his icy fingers.

“i’m sorry about your bed, my love,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, falling softly backwards onto the bed and guiding you down with him until you rested on top of his hard muscular body, his softening erection still nuzzled deep inside you. he’s careful to lay the two of your joined bodies away from the destroyed headboard, holding your head protectively against his chest. “i will buy you a replacement tomorrow.”

his free hand roams every inch of your body, from twirling the strands of your hair to gripping the supple flesh of your rear.

“s’okay zayne, it’s not necessary,” you murmur sleepily, tracing the contours of his taut muscles, “i don’t need a new frame.” honestly the idea of zayne breaking your bed in pure primal lust was enough to have the heat collecting back in between your thighs.

“i would rather you take me on a date,” you smile into his skin, “since you ruined the one i had today.”

zayne chuckles, the sound so warm and beautiful to your ears you think you might melt right into his solid frame, “i suppose i did. will you let me take you out tomorrow?”

you lean up so that your chin rests on his chest and you can peer at him through your lashes, giving him your best begging face, “only if you beg.”

he looks up at you, the amused lopsided smile on his face just begging to be wiped off, “please? let me take you to dinner.” he lifts your chin off his chest with his index finger, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. he smirks when you shiver at his fleeting touch, watching you bend to his very will.

“and then after…” he trails off, fingers leaving your face to trace against the side of your exposed breasts, and up to your hard nipples. you bite your lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of moaning out.

as he incessantly fiddles with your skin, you finish his thought with a joke, “after you can come destroy my new bed frame too.”

zayne’s eyes darken with mischief and amusement, “you shouldn't write checks your body can’t cash, my love.”

the filthy promise in his words coupled with his cold fingers pressed deliciously into your pebbled peaks rip the whimper you’d been holding back out of your lips, your cunt clenching in anticipation despite your crippling exhaustion.

but it seems zayne knows your body as well as you do. “but for tonight, just sleep,” he mumbles into the top of your head, pressing his lips into your hair.

“mmm stay here with me, please,” you murmur into his chest, letting the sleep take root in your pleasure numbed mind.

“i’ll be here when you wake up,” he reassures, his voice falling deeper and rougher with exhaustion and hands shifting to cover your bodies with your comforter. his hands then wrap around your waist, holding your body against this, as if scared you’d disappear from his arms. “i won’t ever leave you.”

your heart flutters as the unconsciousness claims you. “g’night zayne,” you mumble, kissing his chest.

“good night my love.”

taglist: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun

2K notes · View notes

beskarandblasters · 4 months

Text

Bluffing Season

Enemies to Lovers!Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist

Author’s note: Ya know like “cuffing season” lmao!! Thank you to @pascalispretty, @fhatbhabie, and @hyzer34 for beta reading! 🤍

Summary: Frankie Morales is your next door neighbor of the worst kind. To put it simply, you two can’t stand each other. But when his girlfriend breaks up with him right before the holidays he asks you to be his fake date for Christmas, not wanting to go home to his family single yet again. You reluctantly say yes and as you spend time with him you realize he’s not as terrible as you once thought.

Word count: 14.6k (what the fuck lol)

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, reader is a baker, two years post Triple Frontier, slow burn, enemies to lovers, fake dating, jealousy, made up lore for Frankie/his family tree, reader lowkey got mommy issues (just a shitty family in general), drinking, mentions of drugs, food/eating, Frankie describing his trauma, some Spanish used, oral sex (F receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, pet names (cariño), sort of ambiguous time skips, Frankie is either a Libra or a Scorpio!!, no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

Late October

Beep Beep Beep

Ugh. Another shit start to your day with shit sleep as per usual. Running your own bakery means a lot of early mornings. Normally you don’t mind waking up early since you love what you do. You bought a new house on Magnolia Drive eight months ago which made your commute to the bakery much shorter. However… Your realtor neglected to tell you that it came with the worst neighbor on the face of the Earth. His name is Frankie and you can’t stand him. When you first moved in, he seemed normal, an ex-military, single guy living on his own. The deception didn’t last long, though. Because after about two weeks of living next to him, the shitstorm commenced. And now you wished you picked literally any other house in this city. His friends are at his house all the time, one of them always blocking your driveway with their pickup truck. They stay until at least four in the morning, blasting music when Frankie knows you have to work early the next day. He’s probably the worst neighbor in the entire state of Florida.

You’re getting in your car to start your morning commute for work when Frankie is grabbing the morning paper from his mailbox. You physically recoil when you see him. There’s a harsh line of demarcation separating your lawn from his because he cuts his grass once in a blue moon. It’s such an eyesore.

“Have you thought about, I don’t know, cutting your lawn?” you ask before shutting your car door.

He shoots you the middle finger and mouths something you can’t hear. You roll down the window for him to take a few steps closer to your car and repeat, “Stop feeding the fucking stray cats.”

Okay, maybe you aren’t the perfect neighbor either. But doesn’t he deserve it anyway?

“Bite me,” you respond, rolling your eyes and backing out of your driveway.

He rolls his eyes, too, and storms off. You giggle to yourself, feeling proud that you got a rise out of him. If he’s going to piss you off the least you could do is return the favor.

Work is fine, a little busier than normal. But the afternoon exhaustion is hitting. You can’t wait to go home, take a shower, and maybe get some sleep before Frankie’s friends come over. It’s Friday and they’ll be even more unruly than they normally are during the week. Don’t they have lives? Or like… a fucking family to go home to?? Probably not if they’re hanging out with the likes of him.

But alas, it’s finally time to go home. You close up the bakery and get in your car to drive back, excited to just melt into the couch for a few hours. As you turn onto your street you see that Frankie’s driveway is empty, for now, that is. He’s not outside, either. So that means you get to just slip inside your house without a hostile interaction for once. Score!

You pull into your driveway, get out of your car, and start walking towards your front door when a disgruntled voice stops you dead in your tracks.

“Hey!”

Not again.

“What do you want now?” you say, whipping around and using the bitchiest voice you can muster.

“Cut your fucking tree,” Frankie says, holding up a lemon.

…Is he fucking for real?

You have a lemon tree at the edge of your backyard and a few branches hang over the fence and into Frankie’s yard. You never thought to trim it because you assumed you were doing something nice for him, letting him have some of the lemons. But no, apparently he wants to complain about free fruit.

“You’re complaining about… free fruit?”

He stutters a bit, tripping on his words as if he just realized how stupid he sounds.

“I guess not.”

“That’s what I thought,” you say, turning and heading into your house.

The fucking nerve of that man.

The rest of the night is pretty uneventful aside from a bitter man complaining about free fruit. You hear Frankie’s friends next door and grumble to yourself. How do they have the energy to party every single day of the week? You turn in early and do your best to ignore how loud they are, getting ready for another busy day at the bakery. Tomorrow’s Saturday, the busiest day of the week, and you need to be well rested. Well rested as you can be with all the noise from next door.

The morning’s been typical so far; wake up feeling exhausted, argue with Frankie in the driveway, drive to work, open the bakery; and the usual stuff. It isn’t until halfway through your business hours that something… interesting happens. A woman enters the shop and browses the cakes in your display case.

“I’d like to get some writing on a cake.”

“Sure! Which one would you like?”

“That one,” she says, pointing to one on the bottom, a vanilla cake with vanilla buttercream and strawberries in the middle.

“Okay,” you say, grabbing it out of the case and taking it to your decorating table, “What would you like it to say?”

“Well, it’s for my boyfriend, Frankie so I’d like it to say “Happy birthday, Franklin” with a fish. I guess his nickname was catfish in the military.”

You know for a fact this is for Frankie because of the nickname. You’ve heard his friends screaming it next door when they’re drunk. But you also know for a fact his name is not Franklin, it’s Francisco. You didn’t have to ask him or anything, Amazon has delivered some of his packages to your house in the past by mistake. So this is fucking hilarious.

“Any specific color for the writing?” you ask, stifling a chuckle.

“Black is fine.”

You get to work on the writing and have mixed feelings. It’s kinda shitty that his own girlfriend doesn’t know his full name. And it’s also shitty that he’s going to have a birthday cake at his party with the wrong name on it. You should feel bad but… Nah, this guy sucks.

You glance over at his girlfriend before moving on to the fish. Although she clearly doesn’t know her boyfriend that well at all, you can’t deny that she’s beautiful. And all of a sudden you’re feeling… jealous? Wait, why are you getting jealous of her? For a guy you can’t even stand?

You gotta finish decorating this cake and get her out of here so you can try to deal with your conflicting feelings. You package the cake back up and walk it to the counter to cash her out.

“Okay, your total is fifty-three forty-nine. Cash or card?”

“Card,” she says, tapping it on the counter.

The receipt prints out of the machine for her to sign but before you hand it to her you look at the name printed on the bottom; Heather Ryan.

“Okay, just need your signature and then you’re all set!”

She signs her name on the receipt and slides it back to you.

“It looks great! Thank you so much!” she says before grabbing the cake and leaving.

Now that she’s gone you can process your weird and sudden emotions. You didn’t know he had a girlfriend and to be honest, it kind of surprises you that he has one in the first place considering his… lifestyle. But why are you jealous? He’s the worst.

Although… When you first moved in, you did think he was kinda cute before he showed his true colors. He got you with his curly brown hair peeking out underneath his hat but the attraction didn’t last long. Once his antic began, the attraction dissipated.

…Or so you thought.

Stop it, you tell yourself. He has made your life hell for the better part of a year.

You bury down your weird and confusing feelings for now, trying to continue the rest of the day as normal. The rest of the day is pretty uneventful and soon enough five o’clock rolls around. Just as you’re locking up the bakery, you get a text from your friend, Ally.

Hey, bestieee!! Drinks tonight?

You know what, why not?

You respond with:

Oooh, what time and where?

You get in your car and drive home, excited to have something to look forward to tonight. And at least you’ll be gone for some of Frankie’s antics. As you pull into your driveway you notice his friends aren’t there yet, all the better for you. You check your phone and Ally says;

7:30. Let’s go to the Harp tonight!! I’ll meet you there.

She’s referring to a bar downtown but to you, it honestly doesn’t matter where you go. You need to blow off some steam and work through your weird feelings with your friend, get her opinion on this random burst of jealousy you’re feeling.

You take a shower, change into a skirt and fitted tee, and do your makeup before getting ready to leave. Just to find one of Frankie’s friends blocking your driveway, of course. Why wouldn’t they do this shit on the one night you have plans?

Nah, this isn’t going to fly. You gotta say something. You march right over to his door and judging by the noise coming from inside, his birthday party is tonight. Alright, maybe you won’t be a huge bitch about this right now. Especially when you know how his birthday cake turned out…

You knock and someone other than Frankie answers the door. You recognize him as one of Frankie’s friends but you can put a name to his face.

“Oh, shit! Neighbor girl is here!” he says, calling out to Frankie over his shoulder.

Before you can ask him about the truck blocking your driveway he says, “I’m Benny. Come on in!”

Yeah, he’s clearly drunk. Whatever this will be quick. You reluctantly step inside and look around. You’ve never actually been inside Frankie’s house before. It’s honestly nicer than you expected considering his lifestyle and the way he keeps his lawn. You’re standing in his living room with Frankie and three other men. You’re feeling anxious all of a sudden but you don’t show it. Who knows what Frankie said about you to these guys?

“Look who it is, Fish!” Benny says, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Guys, this is my neighbor,” Frankie says. He looks a little… nervous? You’ve never seen him like this before.

“I’m Santiago,” a man with dark hair says, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, forcing a fake smile.

“And this is Will,” Santiago continues, gesturing to a man with short blond hair.

“You got anyone else coming, Fish?” Santiago asks, turning towards Frankie, “What about Heather?”

“Uh, she’s not coming.”

“Shit, man. Is everything alright?”

“We’re fine. But actually, can you help me with something in the kitchen?” Frankie asks, making eye contact with you. He looks bothered, like there’s something he wants to say but isn’t letting it come out.

“Sure,” you reply, following him to the kitchen where he opens the refrigerator. The cake is sitting on the shelf in its box and your stomach drops. Poor guy.

He grabs the cake from the refrigerator and sets it on the kitchen counter.

“Can you help fix this? She put the wrong name,” he says, opening the lid to reveal the cake you decorated earlier today.

“I can try. Can you get me a butter knife?”

He opens his silverware drawer and hands you a knife.

“Well, I think I can smear out the name and make a swirly pattern around the happy birthday?”

“Whatever you have to do,” he says softly.

You take the knife and swipe away the “Franklin”, making a tie-dye design on the cake but stopping at the fish.

“You want me to leave the fish?”

“Nah, scrap it. Catfish is pretty much the only thing she knew about me anyway,” he says dejectedly.

“Right…” you respond awkwardly, swiping away your hard work from earlier. You can only assume he doesn’t know this birthday cake is from your bakery. But you fix the cake the best you can so it just says “Happy Birthday” with a swirly design.

“That better?”

“Yes. Thank you,” he says, letting out a sigh, “I just didn’t want them to see it.”

“I get that-”

“Let’s get this fucking party started!” Benny says, entering the kitchen and slamming a six-pack of beer on the counter.

“Oh, actually I have to go-” you start.

“What?? No way, you gotta stay,” Benny says, putting an arm around your shoulders.

You could stay and just cancel your plans with Ally. But this is Frankie’s birthday party and you weren’t exactly invited. And you’re both aware of how much you painfully dislike each other. You look at Frankie, searching his eyes for an indication of how he’s feeling.

“You’re more than welcome to join us,” he says softly.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna impose.”

“Nooo, stay,” Benny says, looking at you with a wide grin on his face.

“By all means,” Frankie says.

“Fuck yeah,” Benny says, “Can I get you a drink? We have all sorts of shit.”

“Hard cider?”

“A woman with taste. I like it,” he says, removing the arm around your shoulders and opening the refrigerator.

You pull out your phone to text Ally. It has to be something inconspicuous. She knows you hate Frankie with a passion so you can’t exactly say you’re partying with him and his friends right now. Maybe just lie and say you’re sick?

You do exactly that, saying your stomach is bothering you. Just as you press send, Benny’s hanging you your hard cider. And now it’s just the three of you in Frankie’s kitchen, standing around awkwardly.

“I have some of the MMA guys coming, too. That alright?” Benny says.

“Fine with me. The more the merrier,” Frankie smiles. But the smile seems forced.

Just Frankie says that there’s a knock on the door and it’s the guys Benny was referring to. A handful of men pile into Frankie’s living room with Will and Santiago, and now you’re the only girl here. And also sort of regretting your decision to cancel on Ally.

“Let me introduce to you some of my friends!” Benny says cheerfully, grabbing your hand and leading you back to the living room. You exchange hello’s with Benny’s friends, a group of four guys whose names you can’t really be bothered to remember.

Soon enough the folding table is pulled out and all of the guys are playing beer pong. You decide to just stand and watch, sipping your drink and keeping to yourself… except for Benny, who has been by your side all night. At first, it was kind of annoying but now that you’re talking to him he’s actually pretty cute. Or it’s just the alcohol talking.

“Can I get you another drink?” he asks when yours is empty.

“Sure,” you smile, handing the empty bottle to him.

Now that you’re alone for a moment your eyes are scanning the room again, and they lock eyes with Frankie, who’s playing beer pong but not really paying attention. Benny comes back with your drink, handing it to you and leaning against the wall with his arm raised over his head.

“Frankie never mentioned just how gorgeous you are.”

“Oh! Thank you,” you respond, caught you off guard. You’re feeling awkward, not knowing what to say back so your eyes are searching the room again. And once again, they lock with Frankie’s, whose eyes are… angry? But why is he angry? Is he… jealous? Nah, no way. He has a girlfriend. But she’s also proved herself to be shitty. And besides that, you two hate each other. Unless… you really don’t?

You decide to do a little experiment. Benny is super hot, but maybe you could turn up the flirting a bit and see just how jealous Frankie gets.

And that’s exactly what you do. You’re laughing at all Benny’s jokes, falling for every cheesy pickup line, doing the thing where you look from his eyes, down to his lips, and back up to his eyes, literally anything to flirt. And even though it’s for an experiment, you’re having fun and you could actually see yourself maybe liking Benny.

You look over at Frankie, and to your surprise (and also delight?), he’s looking directly at you. His eyes are almost pleading with you. But at the end of the day, you don’t owe him anything. And he’s taken. So why stop all the fun?

“I just can’t believe this is the first time we’re meeting,” Benny says, shaking his head.

“I didn’t know Frankie had such nice friends!” you respond.

Benny leans a little closer to you, his eyes fixed on your lips. Oh shit, is he really gonna kiss you? Right here? Right now? In front of everyone?

But also… why not?

You lean forward more too, inching closer and closing the gap between you two. Just as your lips are about to meet, Santiago shouts, “Jesus, Fish! What are you doing?!”

You pull away from each other and look at what’s going on. It seems that Frankie royally screwed up the round of beer pong because he and Santiago just lost.

“Alright, alright. Don’t yell at the birthday boy,” Will laughs.

Santiago sighs and says, “Best two out of three?”

The other men shrug but Frankie excuses himself, saying, “I need another drink.”

You can’t help but feel like that was your fault. Shit, maybe Frankie does have some sort of crush on you? Because why else would he get jealous over his friend flirting with you? Wouldn’t he want that to happen, as a means of burying the hatchet between you two?

“I have to use the bathroom,” you say to Benny.

“Down the hall on your right,” he says.

You set your drink down on the coffee table and walk through the kitchen, but before you head to the bathroom you take a look at Frankie, who’s sipping a beer and looking at his birthday cake. A look of confusion and uncertainty on his face. You just can’t help but feel bad for him in some sort of weird way. But there’s also a nagging feeling deep down inside you that’s telling you that you shouldn’t feel bad for him. This guy has been nothing but a complete asshole to you. Why do you care so much about his feelings?

You head down to the bathroom and pull out your phone. There’s a text from Ally and thankfully she wasn’t upset about the plans getting canceled. But you look at the time and decide, you should just go home. Besides, it’s getting a little boring watching the men play beer pong and you’re running out of things to talk about with Benny.

You head back into the living room and say to Benny, “I think I’m gonna head home.”

“Aw, okay. I’ll catch you later. But maybe you can come to one of my matches sometime?”

“I’d like that,” you smile.

You poke your head into the kitchen and tell Frankie you’re leaving.

“Happy birthday by the way,” you say.

He nods and waves his hand a little before you bid your goodbyes to everyone else and walk next door. And the only thought on your mind is… What the hell just happened?

You flop down on your couch and the room feels like it’s spinning, your mind swirling with all sorts of thoughts and emotions. You’re feeling a weird mix of confusion, pity, and also… apathy? You run through the basics:

1. Frankie’s girlfriend sucks.

2. It’s shitty that his birthday cake was messed up.

3. You really don’t mind Benny at all and can see yourself liking him.

4. At the end of the day, Frankie is still an asshole.

And that trumps everything else, no matter how bad you feel for him.

Mid-December

Several weeks have gone by and you haven’t seen much of Frankie, or his friends for that matter. Lately, it feels like you've been living at the bakery twenty-four-seven. Especially since Thanksgiving just ended. But that also means you’re heading into another busy season; Christmas time.

The holidays are your least favorite time of year. But running your own bakery means that you get to keep busy during the holidays. It’s always the perfect excuse for when your mother calls and asks why you’re not coming home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. You can usually get out of one and not the other. This year you skipped Thanksgiving so you’ll be due home for Christmas… unless you can think of another excuse to stay home again. But then you’ll get another phone call from your father claiming that “you’re breaking your mother’s heart” or whatever.

From what you can tell, Frankie stayed home for Thanksgiving, too. Though you don’t know if his family is around here or not. His friends didn’t come over for Thanksgiving so you assume they were with their own families respectively. And you’re not really sure what happened with his girlfriend. So the two of you were just… alone that day. For some reason, the thought makes you kind of… sad? But like you told yourself weeks ago, don’t feel bad for Frankie, like at all.

But now that you’re thinking of Frankie… he’s been his typical self, but maybe scaled back a bit? His lawn hasn’t been cut in God knows how long and his friends still come over to party here and there. But it’s definitely been a lot less than usual. Maybe the holidays are tough for him, too.

Just as you’re leaving to go open the bakery the week before Christmas, you get a phone call from your mom. You sigh and roll your eyes because you already know what this is about. And you’ve been dreading this phone call since Thanksgiving.

“Yes, mom?” you say as you answer the phone.

“Is that any way to answer a phone call from your mother?” she says. God, you can already feel the judgment and disappointment seeping from her voice, even over the phone.

“Ah, sorry Mom. How are you?”

“I’m just calling to see if we can expect you home for Christmas this year.”

“Uhh-”

“You know, since you broke your mother’s heart and didn’t come home for Thanksgiving.”

“I think.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy, uh, with the bakery and all.”

“That’s always the excuse. I’m getting sick of your shit. I need a straight answer as to whether or not you’ll be home for Christmas now.”

As you open your mouth to respond, probably with some poorly thought-out rebuttal since you’re so heated, you spot Frankie walking across his lawn toward you. Perfect escape from this phone call maybe?

“Shit sorry Mom. Gotta go. My neighbor’s coming up to me.”

As you pull the phone away from your ear and hang up, you hear your mom’s angry protests. But you’re too focused on Frankie to care. Because what could he want with you now? You haven’t done anything to piss him off lately. That you can remember anyway…

“Hey,” he says with a shaky breath.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

“I need to ask you for a favor.”

“Okay…”

“Feel free to say no because it’s weird but I don’t know what else to do. And I’m sorry to drop this on you but-”

“Spit it out.”

“Will you come home with me for Christmas as my date? It would be fake, of course.”

Oh. You definitely weren’t expecting that to be the favor he needed. And for some reason him adding in “it would be fake, of course” is so funny. It’s so funny that you actually burst out into a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re not being serious.”

“I am.”

“But… why?”

“My girlfriend broke up with me right before Thanksgiving.”

“Let me get this straight. She put the wrong name on your birthday cake and you let her break up with you first?”

“It’s not funny.”

“I know it’s not.”

“So, you’ll help me?”

“Why can’t you just go home alone?”

“Because I can’t go home for another holiday alone. I already skipped Thanksgiving. My family’s always pestering me about settling down and I can’t take it anymore.”

“What’s in it for me?” you sigh.

“Uh, you don’t have to go home to your shitty family? I mean I’m just assuming from that phone call you just had.”

“Yeah and instead I get to go home to yours?”

“My family’s not shitty. They’re nothing like me.”

You can’t lie to yourself and say that the offer isn’t tempting. Because as soon as you mention the word “boyfriend” to your mother she’ll be all over it. Like Frankie’s family, your mom’s been pestering you to settle down, too. If you offer her some sort of crumb to give her the indication that you’re finally “settling down” maybe she’ll leave you alone for once.

“Just think about it,” Frankie says while you’re contemplating his offer to himself.

He turns to walk back to his house but you stop him before he goes anywhere.

“Wait!”

He turns around to face you again with a hopeful look in his eye. You can’t believe you’re actually agreeing to this.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “I guess it beats going home to my family.”

“Thank you,” he says, pulling you in for a hug.

“Alright, the fake relationship hasn’t started yet,” you say, wincing at his embrace.

“Shit, you’re right,” he says, pulling away.

“How long are we there?”

“From the twenty-third until New Year’s. That okay with you? I know you have the bakery and all…”

It’s a little earlier than you prefer to close and it’s quite a long time to be gone but you suppose you can make do. Maybe you can catch a short flight home if you need to be back to the bakery by then?

“Yeah, fine with me. Where does your family live?”

“Savannah, Georgia.”

Oof, five hours in Frankie’s truck, just the two of you… But it’s worth it.

“Okay,” you sigh.

“Great. Thank you so much. We’ll leave around ten, okay?”

“Alright. Sounds like a plan.”

“Oh, one more thing. Can you bake something?”

You let out a sigh. “Yeah, sure. I’ll think of what to make.”

“Thanks again,” he says, putting his hands together like he’s praying before turning and walking back to his house. You’re left in your driveway questioning all your life choices that led up to this moment. But now you get to call your mom and tell her about this mysterious boyfriend you just happened upon.

You get in the car to leave for work and call your mom again, making sure to act a bit more pleasant this time.

“Hello?”

“Hey, mom,” you say, putting on your cheeriest voice.

“What happened with your neighbor?”

“Oh, nothing. He just had a package for me. Got delivered to his house by accident.”

“Oh, okay. So are you coming home for Christmas or what?”

“Actually, I’m not. I’m sorry. But I have a good reason?”

“And that is?”

“I’m going to my boyfriend’s family’s Christmas.”

“Boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”

“Uhh, it’s sort of new.”

“What’s his name?”

“Frankie.”

“Well, don’t fuck this one up. I want to meet him after Christmas, okay?”

Classic mom. She always has to make this about how much you suck.

“Of course. I’ll talk to you later, though. I gotta go open up the bakery.”

“Alright. Love you, bye.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

That’s the best phone call you’ve had with your mom in a while. Maybe pretending to date Frankie will be a good thing?

It’s time to go. You're dressed in a comfy outfit for the drive. Everything’s packed and ready to go. You decided to make lemon bars from the lemon tree in your backyard. They’re packed away neatly in your to-go container. You head outside with all of your bags and Frankie meets you in your hard to help you.

“Jesus, did you pack the kitchen sink, too?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” you say, rolling your eyes.

You’re already questioning why you said yes to this. But then your mother’s nagging voice is deep in the back of your mind.

It’s better than going home, you tell yourself.

You get into the passenger seat and Frankie backs out of the driveway. You look at his lawn out the window as you leave. Still not cut, of course.

For the first thirty minutes of the drive, it’s painfully silent. Until Frankie says, “You let me know if you need to stop to pee or something.”

“Okay…” you say awkwardly.

Another fifteen minutes goes by and he breaks the silence again.

“You know, if we want to sell this we have to act like a real couple.”

You were dreading this conversation.

“Yeah…”

“For one, we’ll probably gonna be sharing a bed.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And we have to act like we somewhat like each other when we’re not alone.”

“I know,” you sigh.

“Think you can do that?”

“I said yes to this, didn’t I?”

“Right…”

You can’t sit through another uncomfortable silence again. You’ve still got like four more hours of this drive to go.

“I guess we have to get to know each other.”

“Right. So what do you do? Oh fuck, I know you have the bakery but I meant tell me about it.”

“Uhh, right. I opened it four years ago. I just make desserts, like pastries and shit.”

“Gotcha.”

“What about you?”

“I used to be in the Army, specifically the Delta Force.”

“Oh, wow. How long were you in the Army?”

“I joined right after I got out of high school.”

“Long time,” you comment, “When did you leave?”

“About three years ago. I was just a pilot for a while.”

“Gotcha. What do you do now?”

“Not much. I’ve been living off my pension for the past two years after some shit happened.”

“We don’t have to talk about-”

“Our friend passed.”

“Oh, Frankie. I’m sorry.”

He says nothing more and you’re so curious for more information but you don’t want to pry either. It falls silent again and then you decide to pry for more information about a less heavy topic.

“So… if you don’t mind me asking, what happened with your girlfriend?”

“She broke up with me two days before Thanksgiving.”

“That’s rough. What did you tell your family?”

“I pretended I was sick.”

“I’m sorry, Frankie.”

“Don’t be. I probably should’ve ended things a while ago. I don’t think she had any idea about who I really am.”

“Right.”

“She didn’t even know my full name.”

The cake that you made.

“Yeah…”

“She put the wrong name and didn’t even get a cake I like.”

“About that.”

“Hm?”

“Do you know where she got that cake from?”

“No.”

“She came to my store.”

“…Did you know it was the wrong name?”

“Well yes, but what was I supposed to say? She’s the customer. I can't correct her. I just have to write what she ordered.”

“I know…” he sighs.

“Regardless, it doesn’t change the fact that she was the wrong person for you, okay?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I felt bad making it.”

“You did?”

“I mean, it’s kinda shitty if your girlfriend doesn’t know your name, right?” You chuckle.

“Right again,” he nods, looking over at you from the driver's seat.

“So what kind of cake do you like then?” you ask.

“Chocolate. I’m a simple guy.”

“Noted. So now I know Frankie Morales used to be in the Army, used to be a pilot, and likes chocolate cake. Anything else I need to know?”

“That about sums me up I guess.”

“Oh, come on! There’s more to you than that. What do you like to do for fun? Besides partying.”

“Oh, uh, I like to play poker with my friends. I’m into cars. And we’ll go support Benny at some of his matches. That’s pretty much all I do these days.”

“And also not cutting your lawn.”

“Listen-”

“And complaining about free fruit,” you tease.

“Alright, alright. I know I haven’t been the best neighbor in the past.”

“Uh-huh,” you say sarcastically.

“I guess after what happened I went down a spiral. And I was just… selfish for a while. Only caring about what I wanted to do and not thinking how it affects others.”

“That’s fair. You went through something traumatic.”

He opens his mouth to say something else but no words come out. It feels like he’s hiding something or not telling the full truth. And he wants to tell you, but he feels just can’t, that you’re not ready for that just yet.

It’s silent again and this time you find yourself dozing off with your cheek pressed up against the cool glass window. Somehow you’re able to fall asleep to Frankie’s music that he put on to fill the silence. You recognize it’s a Tom Petty song, but as you’re trying to put your finger on just what song it is, sleep fully overtakes you.

You were only out for about an hour and a half. It’s hard to sleep for long periods in a truck. As you open your eyes and stretch a little, Frankie says, “Wake up, sleepyhead. You’re officially the worst co-pilot in the world.”

“Whatever,” you say sarcastically, also while stifling back a yawn.

“I’m just teasing. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“It’s fine. I probably shouldn’t sleep for too long anyway. It’ll mess up my sleep schedule.”

“Oof, my sleep schedule is pretty fucked up.”

You glare at him from the passenger seat. But he doesn’t get why, looking at you and going “What?” with a shrug.

“I noticed,” you say coldly.

Everyone knows the best time to air your grievances with each other is when you’re trapped in a moving vehicle together!

“Okay… Why do you seem mad?”

“You and your friends are just… loud.”

“Oh.”

“And I have to be up early in the mornings to open the store.”

“Oh,” he says again like the realization is hitting him.

“It’s alright…” you say awkwardly, even though it’s not.

“It’s not alright. I wasn’t being considerate.”

“I know, but I didn’t say anything either.”

“You sure said something about my lawn,” he teases.

“Because it’s a fucking eyesore, Francisco!”

“Be honest. You just wanted to see me mowing the lawn with my shirt off.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t lie! I saw the way you looked at me when you first moved in.”

“Oh, shut up!” you say, playfully slapping him on the arm.

“You’re not denying it,” he says with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Maybe I thought you were cute when I first moved in. Didn’t last long, though.”

“I know,” he sighs, “I’m trying to be better. Ironically enough I think Heather dumping me was what I needed.”

“I think so, too.”

Before either of you can say anything else, Frankie’s passing a sign indicating there’s a rest stop ahead.

“Can we stop? I have to pee,” you say.

“Sure thing,” he says, pulling off the highway and into the rest stop parking lot.

“Meet you back here?” you say, opening the door.

“I’ll go with you. All sorts of seedy characters hang out at rest stops,” he says, getting out of the car and walking around to your side.

He helps you get out of the truck and walks inside with you, placing a hand on the small on your back as you cross the parking lot. His head’s in a constant swivel, eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble.

“I think I’ll take it from here,” you say, stopping in front of the women’s restroom.

“I’ll be waiting here,” he nods.

You nod back and look at what he’s wearing; a burgundy t-shirt with a black zip-up sweatshirt, gray sweatpants, and of course the Standard Oil cap. Now that you’re starting to see Frankie for who he really is… you don’t mind him at all? Seven months ago you never thought this would’ve happened, that you’d actually be civil with him. Maybe you just had to give him a chance.

You do your business and walk back out to the lobby to meet Frankie. He’s on high alert, standing stiff as a board and taking in all of his surroundings. Until he sees you and his face lights up.

“I got us some stuff for the road!” he says cheerfully, holding up a plastic bag.

You look inside the bag and “some stuff” was an understatement. It looks like Frankie bought out the entire store. There are bottles of water, soda, different kinds of chips, candy, and gum- you name it, he bought it.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked. So I just got a few different things,” he says, most likely noticing how wide your eyes got.

“Thanks, Frankie. That was sweet of you.”

“Do you need anything else before we get back on the road?”

“I think I’m all set,” you nod.

You walk back to the truck with him and he does the same thing he did before, placing a hand on your back as you cross the parking lot. He opens your door for you and you take the bag from him once you’re settled in your seat. He gets back into the driver seat and soon enough, you’re back on the road.

“So I should probably prepare you for meeting my family,” he says, reaching for a Slim Jim in the bag.

“Oh god, why?”

“They’re not bad. They’re just… a lot? But they mean well.”

“Okay.”

“So you have my mother, Rosa, and my father Francisco Sr. But he passed away when I was twenty.”

“I’m sorry, Frankie.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I have three older sisters.”

“You’re the baby of the family?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Nothing. It just tracks.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thanks. My sisters are Ria, Isabel, and Laura. Ria is married to Emmanuel and they have two kids, Luna and Camila. They’re college-aged. And then Isabel is with her wife, Aurora.”

“Okay,” you respond, mentally trying to keep track of all this.

“And then Laura is married to Rafael and they have three kids, Sofia, Anthony, and Marcelo. Sofia is twelve. I think Anthony’s nine or ten. And Marcelo is four. He’s my favorite.”

“Frankie! You’re not supposed to have favorites.”

“It’s not like I tell them that. I also have two aunts, Aunt Linda and Aunt Maggie. They’re my mother’s sisters. And then my Uncle Tommy, he’s my dad’s brother. And then there’s Cousin Ben, he’s Tommy’s son, around my age.”

You’re doing mental gymnastics, trying to memorize everyone’s names, ages, and who they’re married to.

“Got all that?” Frankie says with a smirk, noticing the puzzled expression on your face.

“I think so?”

“Don’t worry. Everyone will introduce themselves when we get there. They’re not gonna leave you alone so sorry about that in advance.”

“It’s alright. It beats going home to my family.”

“What are they like? I’m assuming they’re… not good if you don’t want to go home for the holidays.”

“Yeah, you’ve got it pretty much. My mom is super overbearing and nitpicking. I can’t do anything, or wear anything, or even say anything without her giving her two cents. My dad just sits there and lets her spew her bullshit without a filter. And then my younger sister, Erica, is just… perfect. She can’t do anything wrong in their eyes.”

“That sounds tough.”

“It is. I stopped going home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. I try to just do one each year but I can’t take it anymore.”

“I understand,” Frankie says softly.

“My sister’s in medical school to be a cardiologist. So to my parents, running a bakery just doesn’t compare.”

“That’s stupid. Don’t they know how hard it is to run your own business?”

“No, and they probably don’t care to be honest.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright. Thanks for getting me a way out of Christmas this year, though.”

“Of course. You’re doing me a big favor.”

The rest of the drive goes smoothly and eventually, you’re pulling into Frankie’s parents' house in Savannah. The second Frankie’s truck is in the driveway, an older woman, probably his mother, is running out of the front door and into the driveway. He parks the truck and you get out to meet her. She immediately pulls Frankie into a big hug.

“My baby’s home!!,” she says, embracing him and placing her hands on the back of his head.

“You and that damn hat,” she says, “You have such beautiful hair, mijo. Why do you hide it?”

“You know I like the hat, Ma.”

She pulls away and her eyes are immediately on you. You’re nervous about her first impression of you, even though you’re not even Frankie’s girlfriend. But she thinks you are and you need to play the part.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” she says, pulling into a hug, too. She gives the best hugs, rubbing your back and swaying just a little, even though you just met.

“I want you to be comfortable here, okay? My house is your house,” she says, pulling back and grabbing your hands.

“Thank you so much for having me in your home, Mrs. Morales,” you smile.

“Please! Call me Rosa. Let Francisco get the bags and we’ll go inside, yeah?”

“Okay,” you nod, following her inside the house.

It’s a beautiful home, decorated to the nines with the Christmas spirit. She leads you to her living film where there are pictures of everyone Frankie mentioned on the way here. On the coffee table, there’s one of Frankie’s parents with him and his sisters. You can really see the resemblance there between him and his mom. They have the same warm brown eyes and dimples.

“You have a beautiful home, Rosa,” you tell her, sitting on the couch next to her.

“Thank you, honey,” she says, “Tell me about yourself. It’s so hard to get Francisco on the phone these days. I feel like I know nothing about you.”

“I live in Tampa like Frankie. We don’t live too far from each other And I run a bakery.”

“Wow, good for you. It’s hard running your own business. Your parents must be very proud.”

“They are,” you say, lying through your teeth.

“How has my son been? He’s been a little off since he lost Tom in Colombia two years ago. He’s not doing drugs again, is he?”

“Oh! No, to my knowledge, he isn’t?” you respond, stumbling over your words. That was a lot of information to take in, most of it Frankie hasn’t told you about yet.

“That’s good,” she sighs, “I worry about him.”

“I get it. But I think he’s on an upward trajectory.”

“Thank you, honey. I know he’s a lot to put up with.”

Frankie meets you in the living room and plops down on an armchair across from the couch, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Tired?” you chuckle.

“Yeah,” he pants, “Someone had to pack everything they own and the kitchen sink, too.”

“Francisco! You grew up with all women. Don’t you know this is how we are?” his mother says.

“Yeah, Frankie,” you add sarcastically.

“You two are gonna be the death of me,” he says, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes.

“Where did you put the lemon bars?”

“In the refrigerator.”

“You made lemon bars? Francisco told me you liked to bake.”

“Yeah!” you say, turning towards her again, “I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

“Why don’t you both help me prepare dinner for tomorrow night? After you rest, of course. You had a long drive.”

“Oh, yeah. I need a nap,” Frankie says, getting up from the chair and heading up the stairs.

“Get some rest, honey,” she says, gesturing towards the stairs.

“Okay,” you say, feeling a little awkward that you’re supposed to just go lay in a bed with Frankie.

Frankie’s waiting for you at the top of the stairs, smiling down at you. For some reason the sight makes your heart skip a beat. You meet him upstairs and he leads you to his childhood bedroom. His walls are blue and his bookshelves are filled with baseball trophies from when he was a kid up until high school. There are a few car posters scattered on his ealls. The bags are at the foot of his bed that’s tucked away in the corner of his room and thankfully, it’s not a twin-sized bed. Across the room is his desk, a few comic books stacked in a messy pile like he never left.

“This is my room,” he says, gesturing vaguely to the space around him.

“Cute,” you say, walking around and eyeing some of the stuff he has on his shelves. There’s a picture in a frame of Frankie as a kid with presumably his father right after one of his baseball games. He was a cute kid, wearing a toothy grin with some holes for the baby teeth he lost.

“That’s my dad,” he says, noticing you looking at the picture.

“Now that I’m looking at him, I can’t tell who you look like more,” you comment.

“Definitely my dad,” he says.

You turn to look at him and realize he’s right. A lot of his facial features match his father’s, but his eyes- those are his mother’s.

“Are you tired?” he asks.

“A little,” you yawn.

“I don’t have to sleep in bed with you,” he says quickly.

“I thought you said we were going to? You know, to keep up appearances or something,” you say, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh, right. Just making sure.”

He takes off his sweatshirt and his hat, his curls matted down from wearing it on his head all day. He sets them down on the desk and walks over to the bed, pulling back the comforter and slipping in between the sheets. He moves to the side closest to the wall, letting you have the outside and the wall with the outlet to charge your phone like a true gentleman. You crawl in beside him, lying down side by side, mere inches from each other.

“You don’t sleep naked, do you?”

He doesn’t say anything at first and you take that as a yes.

“…I won’t while we’re home.”

“Cool,” you say awkwardly, rolling on your side and closing your eyes.

“Goodnight?” he says.

“It’s just a nap, but sure. Goodnight, Frankie,” you chuckle.

…You do your best to fall asleep but to be honest, you’re freezing. You don’t really get why. You’re only a few hours north and Georgia doesn’t typically get too cold. Unless his mom has the air on or a window open; something. That doesn’t make sense, though. Don’t elderly people keep their houses entirely too hot?

“You’re shivering,” Frankie says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“What? No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I can see you shaking.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t have to be cold.”

“What’s your solution then?”

“I could tell my mom to adjust the-”

“No, do not do that.”

“Or there’s the other option.”

“Uh huh…”

“I could hold you.”

“…You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.”

“…Fine.”

You feel him scooch closer to you and all of a sudden his warm chest is pressed up against your back. The comforter lifts for a second before his muscular arm wraps around you, pulling you even closer towards him. You’re immediately feeling warmer. He’s like a human space heater or something.

“Better?”

“Y-Yeah. Thank you.”

As much as you hate to admit it, you’re much more comfortable now. However, there is one thing that’s keeping you from falling asleep. And that’s Frankie’s bulge presses right up against your ass.

…You don’t hate it, though. If anything it makes you feel… good? Knowing that you have that effect on him. Maybe he really was jealous weeks ago at his birthday party. All of this begs the question; when did his feelings for you begin?

Lost in thought and enveloped in Frankie’s body heat, you drift off to sleep.

You wake up an hour or so later to the doorbell ringing. Frankie wakes up, too, stretching and removing the arm that was slung over your waist. You already miss its absence.

Frankie’s mom is talking to someone at the door. And it sounds like she’s talking to… a pizza delivery guy?

Frankie rolls onto his back, stretching again and yawning. You fall onto your back, too, lying side by side.

“I think she ordered pizza,” Frankie says sleepily.

“That was nice of her.”

“Just so we don’t have to worry about making dinner tonight while we prepare tomorrow’s.”

“Make sense,” you reply, rolling out of bed and stretching once your feet hit the floor.

“Did you sleep well?” Frankie asks, sitting at the edge.

“I did. Thanks for keeping me warm.”

“You’re welcome but it wasn’t all for you, though.”

“Oh?” you ask, wondering if he could be referring to the hard-on he had while holding you…

“Yeah, I can’t sleep next to you if you’re shaking like a leaf.”

You roll your eyes and he chuckles, leading you down the hallway and down the stairs, straight into the kitchen where the pizza awaits.

“Dinner’s here!” Rosa says cheerfully, gesturing to the pizza boxes on the counter, “There’s a salad and garlic bread, too.”

“Thanks, Ma,” Frankie says, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and handing it to you.

“Thank you,” you say, “Are you sure you don’t want anything towards it?”

“Nonsense! When you’re in my house, I take care of you,” she says, waving you off.

A saint of a woman she is. Frankie’s lucky to have a mother like her. The three of you sit at the kitchen counter eating while Rosa talks about what Christmas Eve dinner will be.

“So tonight we’ll prepare the pasteles. And tomorrow we’ll do the rice and beans. Ria is bringing rolls. Laura’s bringing salad. And Isabel’s bringing flan.”

“Ooh, I love flan. I can make gingerbread cookies for Christmas Day, too,” you say, finishing your slice of pizza.

“Thank you, honey. We’ll have a great time tomorrow. And you’ll get to meet all of Frankie’s sisters.”

“How exciting,” you say looking over at Frankie.

“Frankie’s the baby of the family,” his mother says.

“I could tell,” you snicker.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You just have little brother energy,” you shrug.

“What about you, dear?” his mom asks.

“It’s just me and my sister. I’m the oldest.”

“Well you have older sister energy, so how about that?”

“So I’m wiser and more responsible?”

“Whatever,” Frankie sighs.

“It’s true, Francisco. You can ask Ria.”

“Oh yeah, I’ll get right on that,” he says sarcastically, taking all your plates to the sink.

You clean up from dinner with Frankie before preparing the pasteles. You’re standing at the kitchen island, stuffing the pasteles and listening to Rosa tell stories about Frankie when he was a kid.

“He was my toughest kid to potty train,” she says, shaking her head.

“Mom!” Frankie says, shooting daggers at her with his glare.

“What? You were. And I have the pictures to prove it. For the first two years, you would only use the training potty. I’ll bring out the photo albums tomorrow.”

“No,” Frankie says quickly.

“Oh yes,” you laugh.

“Ughhh,” Frankie sighs while you and Rosa share a laugh.

Soon enough all of the pasteles are prepped for tomorrow and the kitchen is clean again.

“Thank you both for helping me. Now get some sleep! You’ll need all the energy you can get to deal with this family.”

“Goodnight, Ma,” Frankie says, heading towards the stairs.

“Goodnight. Thank you again for everything,” you say to her.

“Of course, honey. See you in the morning!” she says.

As you’re heading up the stairs, she calls out to Frankie, “Francisco! Make sure you show her where the fresh towels are!”

“I will, Ma,” Frankie says, calling down the stairwell.

“You want to shower?”

Before you can respond he quickly adds, “Not with me of course.”

“I know,” you snort, “But sure. Where’s the bathroom?”

He leads you down the hallway and stops at a door on the right, opening to reveal a linen closet.

“Towels are here. Bathroom’s over here,” he says, pointing to a door directly across from the linen closet.

“Thanks,” you tell him, grabbing a towel and heading to the shower. You shut the door behind you and now that you’re alone for once, you let your mind wander…

What happened in Colombia? And what sort of drugs was Frankie on?

You turn on the shower and strip, letting the hot water run down your body as you think about all the possibilities. He did say he lost a friend. Maybe that’s what happened in Colombia. But that doesn’t explain the drugs.

A knock on the door brings you back to reality.

“Can I come in?” Frankie asks.

“Uhh-”

“I just have to brush my teeth. I won’t look.”

“I guess.”

He opens the door and enters the bathroom, keeping his word and looking away from the shower curtain. In fact, he looks at anything else in the bathroom but the shower curtain, picking up a bottle of Tylenol from the medicine cabinet and reading the warnings. You poke your head out of the shower, watching as he brushes his teeth and reads the label on the bottle. And there’s something so… cute about it, so endearing. And now that you think about it, you wouldn’t particularly mind if he saw you in the shower. You can’t believe you’re actually admitting this to yourself.

But before you know it he spits the sink and rinses his mouth, exiting the bathroom and leaving you with your confusing feelings yet again. You finish your shower and dry off, thinking about his mysterious past again. All of this strange information begs the question… What was he doing in Colombia in the first place? Does he have some dark secrets he’s hiding? And if so, how could he be so cute?

You look at the toilet and see that Frankie also brought you your pajamas, flannel Christmas pants, a short-sleeved shirt, and a pair of lacy underwear…

That means he went through your bag, which should make you mad but the fact he decided to bring you your pajamas so you didn’t have to walk down the cold hallway sopping wet is adorable.

You’ll ask him about his past later you decide. For now, he’s your cute pretend boyfriend and you’re going to live in that fantasy for a while.

Once you’re dry and dressed, you hang your towel up on a hook and walk back to Frankie’s room, where he’s tucked into bed waiting for you. You crawl into bed beside him, lying down on your side and feeling his warm embrace again. His arm returns around your waist and soon enough you’re falling asleep, comforted by his warmth and his scent.

The smell of food cooking downstairs wafts up to Frankie’s room, pleasantly waking you up. Frankie’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with his hands folded neatly on his tummy.

You roll over and ask, “You okay?”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine. I think I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous for what? Your family sounds awesome.”

“They are. They can just be overwhelming, I guess.”

“I get it. It’ll be fine, though. Like you said, I don’t think they’ll leave me alone.”

“Right,” he says, shaking his head, “It’s stupid. Today’s gonna be fun.”

“Wanna help me with the gingerbread cookies?” you say, getting out of bed and stretching once your feet hit the floor.

“Sure,” he says, sitting at the edge and yawning, “Do you need to get anything for them?”

“I could just DoorDash some stuff. I don’t want to raid your mom’s kitchen.”

“Ah, she won’t mind. Let’s go downstairs.”

He stands up and stretches, the short-sleeved shirt he’s wearing lifting a little and exposing some of his tummy. His flannel pajama pants are hanging low on his hips and he’s got a little bed-head going on, his curls slightly matted in the back. God, he’s just so… cute. You can’t deny it any longer. As much as you don’t want it to be true, Frankie Morales is a cute man.

You follow him downstairs to the kitchen where his mother is cooking away, stirring different pots and pans on the stove.

“Good morning you two,” she smiles.

“Good morning,” you respond, “It smells amazing down here.”

“Thank you, honey.”

“Ma, I think we’re going to make the gingerbread cookies if we won’t be in your way.”

“Go ahead! By all means. Maybe you can decorate them with the kids tonight?”

“Good idea! Do you need me to get anything from the store?”

“Nonsense! I should have everything you need.”

“Told you,” Frankie says, opening a cabinet and looking through the shelves with you.

To your surprise, she has everything you need for the cookies. And as you sit down at the dining room table Frankie says, “This kitchen is always fully stocked.”

As you roll the dough you think about tonight, meeting the rest of Frankie’s family. You’re excited to meet them but you’re also wondering what you should wear. You packed a few different options for outfits because every family’s vibe is different. Your family tends to lean more formal when it comes to holidays but Frankie’s family could be the complete opposite.

“Frankie?” you ask, cutting the gingerbread men out with a cookie cutter.

“Yeah?”

“What does your family wear on Christmas? Like do they dress up?”

“Oh, we abandoned trying to look nice a long time ago. Especially once my sisters started having kids.”

“Oh, okay. So don’t dress up?”

“Nah.”

That makes you feel at least a little relieved. For some reason, you’re dying for them to like you. And you don’t even get why. You’re not Frankie’s girlfriend. There’s a large chance you’ll never see them again after you leave and go back to Florida.

Once the cookies are on the trays, you pop them in the oven and set a timer on your phone. Rosa’s just about finished with dinner for tonight and Frankie’s cleaning up the mess from the cookies. You look at the clock on the stove and ask, “What time is everyone coming?”

“Around five or so.”

It’s already two-thirty now. You should probably get ready soon, in case Rosa and Frankie need the shower.

“I’ll pull the cookies out if you want to go get ready,” Frankie says as if he read your mind.

“Oh okay, thanks. Fifteen more minutes.”

“Gotcha,” he says, leaning against the counter beside the stove.

You go upstairs and into Frankie’s room, going over all of your outfit choices in your head. You decide to wear option 3, light wash jeans and an emerald green sweater, nothing too fancy. You grab your clothes and your makeup and head to the bathroom, taking extra time to get ready. The timer on your phone for the cookies goes off and you hope Frankie remembers to take them out. You continue your shower, anxiously thinking about meeting the rest of his family.

Eventually, as you’re dressed and putting on your makeup, Frankie knocks on the door.

“Can I come in?”

“Go ahead,” you say, leaning forward toward the mirror and putting on your mascara.

He opens the door and looks at you, practically bent over the sink.

“You look…”

“Huh?” you, turning your head towards him.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes wide.

“Thanks. I’m almost done and then the bathroom’s all yours.”

“No rush. Take your time.”

You finish your makeup and gather all your stuff, leaving him in the bathroom and heading back to his room. You plop your stuff down on his bed and think of what to do next. Might as well make yourself useful while he’s showering and get the icing bags ready for the gingerbread cookies. You head back down to the kitchen, where Rosa’s sitting at the table with a cup of coffee.

“You look beautiful, honey,” she says.

“Thank you,” you say, sitting down across from her.

“Francisco’s in the shower?”

“Yes, he is. I think I’m going to get the icing bags ready for the cookies if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” she says, springing up from her chair and rifling through the kitchen cabinets.

She pulls out an electric mixer, confectioners sugar, and food coloring, setting them down on the table.

“Milk’s in the refrigerator and let me get you some Ziploc bags…” she says, reaching into the cabinet again.

“Thanks,” you say, getting to work on the icing while she sits across the counter and watches.

“I know I’ve just met you but I want to say thank you, for taking care of my son,” she says.

“Of course,” you smile, scooping icing into the ziploc bag for makeshift piping bags.

“He hasn’t been the same since Tom died. But now that he’s here, it’s like he’s his old self again.”

Tom. There’s that name again. You have to know what happened if you’re going to keep up this charade. This is the second time she’s mentioned it and you’re playing along like you know what happened. It’s bound to come up again.

“I’m glad he’s doing much better,” you say, adding food coloring to the bags.

Eventually, you hear the water turn off which means Frankie must be getting out of the shower. Rosa gets up from her stool and says, “Well now that Francisco’s finally done, I guess I’ll go shower. I’m sure he left me no hot water.”

You two share a laugh and she heads up the stairs. You’re left alone with your thoughts until Frankie comes back downstairs again. So for now, in the fleeting moments of solitude, you think of ways to ask Frankie about his past that don’t sound completely insensitive. You could ask him under the guise of just trying to keep the charade going. This whole thing was his idea. He’d have to understand, right?

“Hey,” he says, snapping you from your thoughts. You didn’t even notice him coming downstairs.

“Hi.”

“These look good. The kids will have fun decorating them.”

“I hope so,” you say.

You’re both just standing awkwardly in the kitchen, not saying a word. You think to yourself that maybe now would be the best time to ask, in case you need this information for tonight to go smoothly.

You open your mouth to ask, “What happened in Colombia?” but you’re interrupted by the front door opening.

“Feliz Navidad!” a woman’s voice shouts. You’re assuming it’s one of Frankie’s sisters or aunts.

He pokes his head down the hallway and shouts, “Ria!”

You glance over at the clock and she’s early. Frankie looks over at you and says, “She’s always early.”

“She’s the oldest?”

He nods. It makes sense.

She comes into the kitchen and pulls Frankie into a big hug. She looks like a younger version of Rosa, a little bit shorter than Frankie. Her husband and kids pile in behind her, her girls hugging Frankie and her husband shaking his hand.

“So nice of you to show up for Christmas. Not battling some mysterious illness this time, huh?” she teases.

“I’m not lying! I was really sick.”

You’re standing there awkwardly in the kitchen, not trying to interrupt the family reunion. It isn’t until one of Ria’s daughters looks over at you and asks, “Who’s this?” that your presence is acknowledged.

Frankie walks over to you and snakes an arm around your waist, proudly saying, “This is my girlfriend!” followed by your name.

“Nice to meet you!” Ria says, “It’s been such a long time since Francisco’s brought a girl home!”

This is the second family member to refer to him as Francisco and now you’re wondering if you should be doing the same. Before you can continue she motions her daughters over and says, “This is Luna and Camila. Luna’s in her junior year of college and my Camila’s a senior in high school!”

“Exciting times for both of you,” you comment, not really knowing what to say.

But Ria continues anyway. “And this is my husband, Emmanuel,” she says, gesturing to her husband in the corner. He seems like the quiet type, letting his wife do all the talking in social situations.

“Where’s Ma?” Ria asks Frankie.

“In the shower. Are the others on their way?”

“Laura’s almost here. Isabel and Roro will probably be late as per usual. Will you grab the rolls out of the car?”

Emmanuel nods, again not saying much of a word at all before heading out to the car in the driveway. Ria and the girls take off their coats, hanging them on a coat rack by the front door. While Luna and Camila retreat to the living room, Ria takes the rolls from Emmanuel and puts them in the drawer underneath the oven, putting them on a low setting to keep the rolls warm until dinner starts. Soon enough, you’re all sitting in the living room together, awkwardly exchanging glances and waiting for either Rosa to come downstairs or for someone else to arrive.

And for a while, it feels like the front door doesn’t close, a slew of family members coming in left and right. First, it was Aunt Maggie. Then it was Laura with her husband, Rafael, and their kids, Sofia, Anthony (who insists you call him Tony), and Marcelo, Frankie’s favorite. And Frankie wasn’t lying about Marcelo being his favorite, his eyes practically lit up the moment Laura walked in the door, carrying him on her hip. After Laura’s family, Uncle Tommy and Cousin Ben came. Frankie’s arm around your waist tightened when Ben looked you up and down which made your heart do somersaults. Aunt Linda followed soon after. And finally, last but not least, Isabel and Aurora (who goes by Roro) arrived.

Somewhere in between all of the commotion Rosa returned downstairs. And you’re left with your head spinning, trying to keep track of everyone’s names and trying to make a good first impression. And you think you succeeded? Laura and her kids are really nice. Marcelo’s been hanging off you and Frankie since he set foot in the door. Isabel is definitely the coolest Morales sister out of the three of them. You don’t really have any complaints about Frankie’s aunts. And Uncle Tommy’s been dozing off on the couch, reminding everyone to wake him up when it’s time for dinner. You don’t mind Ben at all but he definitely has a little crush on you. You don’t spend too much time talking to him, just enough to learn he teaches high school English.

You also noticed that Isabel, Roro, Uncle Tommy, Ben, and his brother-in-law all call him Frankie and not Francisco. But his mom, Ria, Aunt Maggie, and Aunt Linda call him Francisco. And to the nieces and nephews, he’s Uncle Frankie of course.

Eventually, Rosa announces that it’s time for dinner. Frankie and Ben set up a small folding table for the kids, except for Marcelo who sits on Laura’s lap. You sit in between Frankie and Isabel. Rosa sits at the head of the table and before everyone digs in she says, “Now who would like to say grace?”

“I will,” Tony says, raising his hand from the kids' table.

“Go ahead,” Rosa says.

“Grace. Okay, we’re done. Let’s eat, everybody!”

Everyone shares a laugh and Rosa decides, “You know what? It’s good enough for me!”

The rest of Christmas Eve goes smoothly. After dinner, you help the adults clean up before bringing out the gingerbread cookies to decorate. All of the kids, even Luna and Camila, sit around the table with you, decorating the cookies with your makeshift piping bags. Ria takes a picture of you guys, brows furrowed in concentration as you all try to make the cookies absolutely perfect.

“Aren’t you gonna do one?” you ask Frankie, who’s standing beside you and watching.

“Sure,” he says, pulling up a chair.

He grabs a gingerbread woman and begins to draw a face on her. But before he’s done he gives her a frown and angry eyebrows, holding it up and saying, “Look! It’s you when I don’t mow the lawn!”

“Oh, shut up,” you reply, grabbing your own gingerbread man and giving him not only angry eyebrows but a yellow blob in his hand.

“Look! It’s you when you complain about free lemons.”

The kids laugh even though they don’t know the full context of the joke. But once the last cookie is decorated, people begin to head out, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and saying goodnight. Once the main level is cleaned up you and Frankie say goodnight to his mom. She tells you that Christmas dinner is at Ria’s and that it starts at two.

With that, you’re off to bed, returning to your rightful place of being spooned by Frankie. And for once, the two of you are alone again. Your mind goes back to Tom, what happened in Colombia, and Frankie’s drug addiction. You’re just gonna do it, rip the bandaid off

“Frankie?”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Well, earlier your mom was talking about your friend Tom and what happened in Colombia… I know it’s not really my business but should I know what happened? You know to keep up the act-”

He sighs and you fear you’ve overstepped.

“I figured it was going to come up sooner or later.”

He pulls away to rest on his back, staring at the ceiling and recounting what happened. You lie on your back, too, looking over at him as he begins his story.

“A few years ago, I developed a really bad addiction to coke. And it cost me almost everything. I lost my pilot's license. Santiago approached me, Tom, Will, and Benny about going to Colombia to steal money from this drug lord, Lorea.”

“I see,” you comment, letting him continue.

“It seemed appealing at the time. I needed the money, you know?”

“I get it,” you say softly.

“The mission was a fucking shitshow. We took fucking two hundred and fifty million dollars and lost all of it. It was too heavy for the helicopter so we crash-landed in a cocaine farm. They thought we were DEA and Tom killed some of them. So then we had to pay them as some kind of reparation. We went through the Andes on mules and two of the villagers followed us. One of them shot Tom and we had to carry him, the rest of the money through the mountains. When we finally reached the coast, the getaway boat was there waiting for us but the town was filled whatever was left of Lorea’s crew. There was no way we could carry all that cash with Tom’s body and make it to the boat without being killed. So we had to dump most of it down a fucking ravine.”

He’s getting more and more upset as he tells his story. And you feel guilty you even asked in the first place. He didn’t need to tell you all the details. He could’ve said his friend Tom died on a military mission in Colombia and that would’ve been enough to quell your curiosity.

“Somehow we made it to the boat, but not without a fucking car chase and shootouts. By the end, we were left with a little over one million dollars each, but we decided to give it all to Tom’s family,” he says, finishing with a deep breath.

You roll onto your side and look over at him. He’s not crying but you can tell he’s visibly upset, his eyes misty.

“Thanks for sharing that with me. I know it’s hard to recount a traumatic experience like that.”

“It’s okay. Figured you should probably know. My family thinks it was some sort of mission for the Army, not that we went rogue. I don’t want them to know the true nature of what it was… greed.”

“Understandable.”

“So after all that I came home with a dead friend and no money.”

“I guess the overgrown lawn and the constant partying make sense now.”

That actually gets him to laugh.

“I guess it does,” he chuckles, “But thanks for putting up with me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“And thanks for coming here and doing this for me. That happened two years ago and my family has been worried sick about me since. Whenever my mom calls me I just… I just lie. I think if she saw how I was doing now it would break her heart. But here with you, she thinks you’re like my saving grace.”

You don’t say anything because you really don’t know what to say. It’s nice his mother feels that way, but it’s all a lie.

“I know that was a lot…” he says.

“You’re okay. I’m here to listen,” you reassure him.

“You should probably get some sleep. You’ll need all the energy you can get to deal with my family for another day.”

“Okay,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side. Frankie spoons you again like he always does. This time you don’t feel something hard against your lower back, instead you feel Frankie’s breath by your ear.

“Thank you,” he whispers, holding you a little tighter as he falls asleep.

You wake up to Frankie still holding you just as tight. You’ve never had a Christmas like this, one so peaceful.

And then it hits you… it’s Christmas. Which means you need presents, something you completely forgot all about. You were too wrapped up in pretending to be Frankie’s girlfriend.

“Frankie?”

“Yeah?”

Has he been awake this whole time? And still holding you just as tight…

Whatever, worry about that later.

“I forget to get everyone fucking presents.”

“Already took care of it.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he says, propping his elbow on the pillow and looking down at you, “You’ve never met them before. How could you get presents for people you don’t even know?”

“Right,” you say, lying on your back.

“Merry Christmas,” he smiles.

“Merry Christmas,” you respond.

“Let’s go exchange with my mom.”

You roll out of bed first and let him grab the presents from his suitcase.

“What did I get her?”

“A sweater. It’s her favorite color.”

“Ooh, good idea.”

He hands you the present and it’s wrapped like a typical guy would wrap it.

“I’m telling her you wrapped it.”

“Oh, she’ll be able to tell,” he laughs.

You follow him down the stairs where his mother is sitting on the couch watching a Hallmark movie. She smiles and wishes you a Merry Christmas when she sees you, grabbing presents from under the tree.

You give her the present “you” got her and she clocks Frankie’s wrapping job right away.

“I can tell Francisco wrapped this,” she chuckles, unwrapping the gift and opening the box. She tells you she loves it and pulls you in for a big hug. Even though you didn’t actually buy the gift, you can’t help but appreciate the sense of approval. Your mom would’ve criticized whatever you got her, no matter how great the gift was.

Rosa got Frankie a wallet with his initials engraved in the leather. She got you an apron with your name embroidered on it. Both presents were very thoughtful and as she’s pulling out the photo albums like she promised the other day, Frankie whispers in your ear, “She’s big on getting things personalized.”

The three of you spend the rest of the morning looking at photo albums until it’s time to get ready to go to Ria’s. For once, Frankie can’t wait to jump in the shower, anything to get away from the “embarrassing” pictures his mom is showing you.

Once the three of you are ready you drive to Ria’s in Frankie’s truck, with the gifts piled in the back seat. He parks on the street and you head inside to the already bustling house. Everyone shouts “Feliz Navidad” as you’re taking off your shoes before joining them at the table.

The menu for Christmas dinner is empanadillas, tostones, pernil, and arroz con gandules. And for dessert, there’s tembleque, the gingerbread cookies you and the kids decorated, and of course, the lemon bars.

Christmas Day goes even better than Christmas Eve. All of the presents got for you to give to his family were a hit, but not without a sly comment from Frankie.

“You know… She did have some help,” he says with a smirk and a wink.

That earned him a smack on the arm.

Eventually, the evening is winding down. The kids are sitting under the tree playing with their toys and the adults are scattered around the house. For once, there’s no one paying attention to you two.

“Come with me,” Frankie says, getting off the couch and grabbing his coat.

“Where are we going?”

“For a walk,” he says.

You follow him to the front door, slipping on your shoes and coat. The two of you walk side by side on the sidewalk. It’s silent between you two but it’s a comfortable silence. But as you stop underneath a streetlamp, Frankie says, “I have something for you.”

“Frankie! You didn’t have to.”

“No, I really did. And I wanted to. It’s not just a Christmas present but it’s also a thank you for doing this for me… And also an apology for being a shitty neighbor,” he chuckles.

He pulls out a box from his coat pocket and hands it to you. You lift the lid to reveal a gold chain with a pendant, and a lemon stamped into the metal.

“Aw, Frankie… This is so sweet.”

“Look at the back,” he says softly.

You flip over the pendant and engraved on the back is your street name, Magnolia Drive. You look back at Frankie and his face is nervous, as if he’s waiting for your approval. His brow furrowed, his face dimly lit under the streetlamp, and his curls peeking out under his stupid fucking hat. All you can do at that moment is kiss him. He’s shocked for a second but it doesn’t take long for him to melt into your touch and wrap his arms around you.

He pulls away for a second to ask, “I take it you like it?”

“I love it, Frankie,” you nod, leaning in for a kiss again.

And for a moment you two stay there, holding each other under the streetlamp on Christmas night.

“I didn’t get you a present,” you admit, resting your head against his chest.

“You already did. You did me a huge favor. It’s a lot to deal with my family.”

“I didn't just deal with them. I liked being with them.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, like you said before, they’re nothing like you.”

“Shut up,” he says, pulling you in for another kiss.

After a while he says, “We should probably get back.”

You nod and follow him back to Ria’s house where you bid your goodbyes to everyone and head back to Rosa’s for the night. She turns in early and now it’s just you and Frankie alone again. But being alone with him feels different this time. Not only because you just kissed but also because you think… you have feelings for him. Maybe it’s the holiday spirit talking or how vulnerable he was last night, but you have to admit to yourself that Frankie Morales is not only a cute man but a man you misjudged this whole time.

Once you’re back upstairs to Frankie’s room, you’re sitting side by side on his bed. The silence is back and you’re wondering if you shouldn’t have kissed him earlier. Maybe all you are to him is someone who did him a favor, someone who’s just his neighbor and nothing more.

“I’m sorry about the kiss. I-”

“You’re sorry?”

“Well yeah, I-”

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long, cariño.”

“How long?”

“Soon after you moved in next door.”

“Really? I thought you hated me.”

“No, I never did. I just liked pushing your buttons. You’re cute when you’re irritated.”

Your brain is short-circuiting, in disbelief at what he’s saying.

“Even when you were with Heather?”

“Mhm.”

“Is that why you were so jealous of Benny at your birthday party?”

“...Maybe,”

“Mmm, you’re cute when you’re jealous,” you say, leaning in for another kiss.

This time the kiss is needier, and more passionate, like you can’t get enough of each other’s touch, scent, and taste. His hands caress either side of your face as his body leans into you more, coaxing you to lie down on his bed. His mouth leaves yours, trailing along your jawline and down your neck. Your breath hitches as he nips at your skin, immediately licking the bruised skin afterward. He moves down lower, lips moving along your collarbone, until he’s completely kneeling on the floor in front of his bed. His hands hook around the waistband of your pants, sliding them off in one clean motion before going to remove your panties.

“Frankie?” you ask, resting on your elbows and looking down at him.

“Yeah?”

“What about like… your mom?”

“She sleeps like a rock,” he says bluntly, returning to what he was doing before.

He pulls off your panties and spreads your legs, looking at how wet your cunt is already.

“Mm, so wet for me, cariño,” he muses, his warm breath tickling your core.

Before you can respond, he licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you breathe out, eliciting a chuckle from him.

He goes back in for another, licking up and down your entrance slow, enough to drive you crazy. And then, he moves to your clit, tongue swirling around it as your back arches up off the bed. He hooks his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place as he gets to work, nose grinding against your clit while his tongue licks your cunt. It doesn’t take long for you to cum, his face taught against your cunt as you do so.

Once you’re done, he rests his head against your inner thigh, admitting the mess he just made. The lower half of his face is soaked, his patchy facial hair glistening. He returns back to your cunt for one more lap of his tongue, just to taste you one more time before rising from the floor and taking off his clothes. You sit up and take off your sweater and your bra, tossing them on the floor and lying back down. You inch up a little higher on the bed to make room for him as he hovers over you.

“I have a confession to make,” he says, looking down at you with a sly grin.

“Oh??”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you naked.”

“Uhh-”

“Your bathroom window faces mine.”

“...It does?”

“Mhm. Saw you drying off one day.”

“Oh yeah? And then what?”

He bends down and whispers in your ear, “Jerked off in the shower to the thought of you.”

Your whole body shudders.

“Touch me, Frankie, please,” you whine.

“Are you begging, cariño?”

“Fuck. Yes, I am,” you whimper.

“Good girl,” he whispers in your ear, his hand caressing the outline of your breast before moving to your nipple. His other hand gathers some of your releases and strokes his cock, getting extra hard before sliding inside you, all while he plays with your nipple. You gasp at the sensation, feeling his length stretch your walls; feeling like you’re being split apart.

“You can take it,” he softly commands, bringing his face away from your ear and looking into your eyes again. He studies the expression on your face; the open mouth and the tears in the corners of your eyes, and his lips curve into a smirk. He draws his hips back and thrusts into you again, your cunt feeling completely full. Your soft moans are like music to his ears but he needs to hear more, not necessarily more sounds but a confession from you, too.

“Be honest, cariño. You’ve thought about fucking me too, haven’t you?”

It’s actually insane that this is the same sweet man who gave you the most thoughtful Christmas present earlier tonight. The same man who confessed to jerking off in the shower after seeing you naked.

“Y-yes…” you confess.

“What was that? Didn’t hear you,” he says as his hand to your other breast, taking your nipple in between his fingertips.

“Fuck, Frankie yes, I’ve thought about it.”

“When?” he presses further, keeping the same pace with his thrusts.

“All the time. Even when you piss me off.”

“Knew it,” he teases, slamming his hips back into you. He rests his elbows on the other side of your head, face to face with you as he fucks you relentlessly.

“Frankie, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Let me feel it, cariño,” he says, studying your face again.

You close your eyes as you cum but that just won’t do for him. He wants you to look directly into the eyes of the man who made a mess of you.

“Look at me,” he softly commands.

You open your eyes, locking with his as you cum around his cock, feeling your walls flutter and pulsate in rhythmic patterns.

“Good girl,” he praises, thrusting into you one final time before coming, too. He paints your insides with his cum before pulling out of you and lying down on the bed. You roll over and situate yourself in the crook of his neck, resting your hand on his chest.

“You’re amazing,” he says, taking the his hat off his head and propping it on the bed post before wrapping his arm around you. There’s his sweet side again.

“I can’t believe you saw me naked,” you tease, still sort of in disbelief.

“Two times now. It’s a Christmas miracle,” he jokes.

You have to agree with him. He feels you twitch against him and he whispers, “Goodnight. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper back, letting sleep consume you.

New Year’s Eve

You’re spending New Year’s Eve at a bar with some of Frankie’s friends from high school. Ever since the night you got together, you’ve been leaning into the girlfriend role more, feeling like it’s not a charade anymore. Frankie doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he welcomes it. This is what the two of you wanted all along, even if both of you didn’t know it.

You’re watching the ball drop in New York City on the TV at the bar with Frankie’s arm snaked around your waist. As the clock strikes midnight, you kiss, feeling like you’re starting the year off right for once.

“Look at you,” you whisper against his lips, “Ending the year in a fake relationship and starting the new year in a real one.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” he whispers back.

Tag list: @wannab-urs @noxturnalpascal @hiddenbabynyc @littlegrungegirlaf @hyzer34 @catchallfangirl @pamasaur @paleidiot @runningmom94 @butiknewyoudlinger @sydneyinacoma @yorksgirl @wilderwizard @hnt-escape @axshadows @fanficlover1414 @lavema @yazsos @tarot-freader @dundienominee @pedropascalfan221 @khindahra @janaispunk @tuquoquebrute @perotovar @clawdee @immarocketman @whoreofabuckethead @grogusmum @idungoofed @fluffygoffpanda @meveispunk @beefrobeefcal @magpiepillsjunior @pr0ximamidnight @elvinaa @survivingandenduring @lincolndjarin @missladym1981 @heavennumber2 @covetyou @anoverwhelmingdin @hellfire-state-of-mind @joels-shitty-puns @stevie75

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #pedro pascal fanfiction

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s-4pphics · 6 months

Text

where we meet. (e.w.)

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

*silence*

…..

thank u 4 the pointers baby :3 ilysm @elliesbelle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, Miss Hattie— “

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

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

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

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

As a dishwasher.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wake up and hope for their forgiveness everyday.

“You comin’?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THUD, THUD THUD THUDTHUD—

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

THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—

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

Where were you before this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You woke up screaming.

“Girl…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t sleep at all that night.

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

To put it lightly, you were fucking horrified.

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

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

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

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

You’re not fucking crazy.

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

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

… It wasn’t a complete lie, at least.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A heavy exhale left her.

“I… Something was…” she stuttered.

Another deep inhale. Another lengthy exhale.

“Something felt different, no?” She whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was odd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Family. You almost broke down.

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

“No, uh, thanks. I got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you come pick me up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened when we were at the club?”

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

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

“I… I told you what happened— “

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

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

Celeste shook her head, “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything around you went dark.

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

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

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

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

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

Shocked plastered across your friend’s face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

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

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

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

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

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

HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You love me, Ellie… right?

Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth when you slurred.

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

Ellie… d-do you love me?

O-Of course I do—

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

—

You were never a rebellious kid.

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

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

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

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

Started drinking.

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

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

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

You gained a best friend from that sloppily scratched note.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

See? I can stop whenever I want.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

Hm?

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

But you didn’t believe her.

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

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

… Are you fucking drunk right now?

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

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

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

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

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

—

The reality around you never rebuilt itself after that night.

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

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

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

You killed your soulmate, and you never recovered.

PRESENT

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

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

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

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

“What the hell are you doin’ here.”

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

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

“Please, I’m beggin’ you, ma’am— “

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

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

“… W-What?”

The look on her face was enough for you.

She knows. She knew.

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

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

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

“Whatever happens t’you…”

“No, nonono!—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ma’am?”

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

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

Some silence passed before you spoke.

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

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

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

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

“Yes… Are you sure everyt— “

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

I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—

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

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

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

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

It can’t be.

“L-Look at me. I’m here! I'm okay!”

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

“Look at me! I love you!”

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

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

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

“NO! No, no, fucking get up— “

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

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

Ellie, Ellie, I love you, I’m sorry—

A kiss on your shoulder. Right over your scar.

“I love you more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“E-Ellie?”

Silence.

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

“Just do it! Just fucking do it!”

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

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

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

“KILL ME! KILL ME, KILLME! —“

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

A dark chuckle left you.

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

You’re awake. And you’re angry.

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

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

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

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

You’re going fucking crazy.

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

“Fuck you.”

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

“… What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ellie, please, please don’t! —“

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

Ellie… Ellie, please…

Trees danced with the wind before everything went dark.

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

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

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

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

“Miss me?”

You jolted, scurrying away from whatever was behind you.

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

What the fuck, what the fuck—

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

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

Is… Did she cut you with that?

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

“E-Ellie?”

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

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

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

What the fuck is going on…

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

Her words were hardly registering.

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

“You’ve… you’ve been looking for me?”

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

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

Other side? “… Am I dead?”

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

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

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

“… I— “

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

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

“… Why’m I here then?”

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

Ellie turned to face you, lips curling devilishly.

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

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

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

Your breaths shuddered the closer she got.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, you don’t. You haven’t showered—

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

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

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

“Oh, she’s starving— “

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

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

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

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

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

… Is… Is she really…?

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

“E-Ellie, El— “

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

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

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

You missed her so fucking much.

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

“You wanna watch?”

No, no no please—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

S’hitting it s’good! Fuck, I can’t—

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

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

“Please, El, please, fuck… me— “

“I’m — oh, fuck, yes— “

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The peculiar twang coated your tastebuds. She continued.

“So much fun.”

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

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

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

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

Almost.

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

“You’re a bad kisser.”

Your lip quivered. Ouch, “S… Sorry…”

“Ellie?” Your throat burned.

“Yes, dear?”

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

“Am… Am I…?”

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

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

“Will… Can I, can I cum?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted to ask what was taking so fucking long—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tiny fucking hole… gotta get you ready, huh?

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

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

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

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

“El — mmh! Fuck, yes, rightthere! —“

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

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

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

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

Ellie…

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

Ellie… please…

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

I’m so sorry…

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

I miss you so much…

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

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

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

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

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

I love you… I love you… I love you…

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

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

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

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

I love you… I’m sorry… I love you…

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

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You’re such a dork!

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

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

You love me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you spoke first.

You love me, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She sobbed, her head shaking dismissively.

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

“Fuck you,” her choked murmur was hushed.

A sad smile grew on your face.

“Almost did…”

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

“Y’know… you almost did fuck me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ellie’s hushed tone filled your head.

I wish I hated you.

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

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

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

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

“Can I, fuck, let me do something— “

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feels g-good? Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your stamina’s fucked.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What.”

Fuck. “No-nothing. Sorry.”

“You want something. Say it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ellie — m’cu—cumming!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baby likes that? I own this fucking pussy?

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

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

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

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

When you wake, there’s warmth.

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

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

Ellie’s the blanket; Ellie’s warm.

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

idk how to use picsart sorry yall LOL

taggiesss ily thank u 4 being patient :D :

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

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams au #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #the last of us 2 #kinktober #lesbian #demon!ellie #works 𖧧࣪

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joonberriess · 6 months

Text

animal farm. ☆ j.jk + k.th

⋆ TAGS — dark!tae + jk, morals are zero bc it’s the apocalypse, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, TW: non-con to dub-con as oc adapts to survive, captivity, breeding kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampies, pregnant sex, fingering, creepy sleazy!tae, yandere elements, open-ending beware it’s not a good one, angst, death (just the zombies lol), jk’s a hunky daddy, possessive tae and jk, obsession, somnophilia, mentioned abortion, “fuck them kids” - oc, debatable happy ending, misogyny and objectification, outdoor sex(?), thigh fucking, mentioned/hints of body dysmorphia bc oc DOES NOT want to be pregnant

⋆ WORD COUNT — 13.3k

⋆ now playing: animal farm - bibi ⋆

You’re not sure how much time has passed since the outbreak—days, months, years—time was a relatively foreign concept, all that was left was to survive. Didn’t matter what day of the week it was or whether it was night or day, the days were all the same in the end.

The day it happened started like any other day: you woke to a flurry of messages wishing you happy birthday, and you were greeted by the sight of your pup running around in excitement as you prepared for the day. You were going to work a short shift that day (courtesy of your boss) all your co-workers had pitched in to buy you a nice cake from the bakery down the street. Your mom even promised to call you later on given the distance between you and her.

Everything was just as you remembered—a blue sky, people commuting, the sounds of traffic—it was just another regular day. After work you stopped to buy a bottle of wine, too busy chatting with the cashier to notice the storm of police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks passing by. The rest of the way home you listened to music, blissfully unaware of the nearby fires and rising smoky black skies.

Night came, prepared a delicious pasta and served a rather large serving of wine. Your dog sat by the front door the entire time, posture stiff and tail straight as he stared at seemingly nothing. That should have been the first sign.. After setting the pasta aside to cool your phone rang and you smiled. “Mom-”

“Listen to me,” she sounded desperate, “do NOT go outside, no matter what you hear or see y/n, STAY INSIDE.” She bites out in a fearful tone, “Your father and I are going to try and head over there, for the love of God please stay inside.”

“Mom, what's happening? Is everything okay? Are you and dad oka-” Suddenly the sound of a nearby building blowing up makes you jump. Your apartment rattles and you lose your balance, falling over as the phone slides away from you, “Mom?!” You scramble to your feet and run to the windows, yanking them all the way back to reveal the chaos unfolding..

The world around you is in flames, people are running and cars are being crashed or abandoned. You see helicopters storming the sky all around, endless police cars are scattered below your apartment and you hear the sounds of gunshots from every direction. Your eyes widen in horror as a plane comes crashing down somewhere downtown, and then more screams erupt alongside a few rather..inhuman sounds.

“y/n?! y/n?!” You snap your attention back to the fallen phone.

“M-Mom?” You crouch down and pick up the phone, “What’s happening?” You tearfully whisper. You hear the same chaos unfolding on the other side of the line, your dad is yelling something in the background while your mom tries to tell you a bunch of things all at once.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she softly whispers in a wobbly tone, “we love you so much, never forget that.” You hear a gunshot and your dad yelling some more, “Get to your uncle,” she cuts off by a loud screeching noise, “we’ll meet you there—!” She gasps as the screeching turns into animalistic noises, “Never forget—we love you.” The line cuts dead. You stand there in complete silence with an endless flow of tears streaming down your face.

The wine and pasta sat cold all night, then the night after that, and after that. If you were to go back there you’d probably see what was left of your apartment, most likely scavenged and destroyed by either survivors or whatever the hell those things were.

And to think that it had been just another random day..

You never did get to see your parents. You wondered if they died on their way to the farm or if they never stood a chance leaving in the first place. You like to believe they’re out there somewhere safe, that they found refuge with other groups far away from chaos. Like your father had once said: you keep finding something to fight for.

And that’s what you intended.

“Dammit.” You whispered under your breath while pushing through the endless shrubs and tree branches in your way.

By now every city was covered from head to toe in vines and other plant life. Apart from the obvious decay everything would have looked normal if it weren’t for the fact that there was a darkness lingering in the shadows. Cars, bikes, and trucks were scattered around, sitting as a reminder of the way things were once. It played like a bittersweet memory in the back of your mind as you pushed forward.

You brushed your hands over the front of your shorts and looked around the area. It was quiet all around with the only sounds being the wind blowing the overgrown grass all around. You had finally made it to Daegu after walking for two months straight. Your body ached and you were sure your feet had blisters from all the walking (occasional running) you did.

A few times (more than you would like to admit) you reached a breaking point where you wanted nothing more than to give up and go back to your uncle’s farm. Yet somehow some-way you would regain your strength and keep pushing—for family. It’s how you ended up all the way down in Daegu, just another month or two (maybe three) away from Busan.

You were far too deep to stop now.

You uncapped your water jug and took greedy sips as the water ran down your chin and throat. “That’s better.” You murmur softly as your parched throat absorbs every last drop of the water. You take a second to sit down on a nearby rock to bring your map out.

“Okay.. If I’m here,” you trail off while running your finger over the lines of the map, “then that means I go this way..and turn here to—” You immerse yourself in your own thoughts, ignoring the sound of your stomach growling. You shift from side to side, ignoring the heavy weight of your shotgun tucked away in your backpack, sticking out like a sore thumb.

So far you didn’t need to use the gun (yet), your encounters with those unruly beasts were minimal since they had taken to hiding in buildings. Crazed survivors were unlikely, most were hidden away too and if they were out you simply snuck past them until you felt like you could breathe again. You’d say you were doing a pretty damn good job at conserving your ammo etc.

“Alright,” you sigh heavily and put your map away, “up I go.” You mumble and start heading down the grassy street, just looking all over the area. You always did want to visit Daegu, guess it was your lucky day.

The street comes to a dead end as you stop in front of two tilted buildings crashed into each other with endless rubble surrounding the area. “Just my luck,” you groan out, seeing as there isn’t another option as you hop up the rubble, making your way into the dark desolate building.

With every step you take your heart begins beating faster, chances that those things are swarming the building are high. Your heart drops even more when you realize that the only way out that was straight ahead of you is blocked off by debris. You stop in the middle of the room, looking up as you inhale deeply.

“Only way out is going up then..” You mutter and grab your flashlight.

Everything is silent around you save for the drops of water hitting the ground and echoing off the empty halls. You work your way around the decaying bodies and thrown furniture surrounding the halls. Finding another way out of the building was something you had not planned on doing, but it seemed like you were going to have to get to higher ground to scope the surroundings out for an exit.

“Ah-ha,” you light up when you realize this building has balconies. A triumphant smile forms on your lips as you head up a small flight of stairs to reach the next floor where the balconies were located. You kept a close eye and ear out for any strange movements, you weren’t alone after all.

As you move to step over a piece of debris, suddenly a large part of the ground rumbles before breaking off and falling through the second floor. Your entire body goes still. You begin breathing heavily as you shakily reach for the shotgun in your backpack. Seconds of silence pass, you stand there with the shotgun in your hands and your face twisted in fear.

Nothing happens until you hear it..

A low faint croaking sound—click, click, click—there’s soft thuds as the creature moves around, getting closer and closer. You’re too scared to turn around or even make a sound. The floor behind you creaks and the creature gets closer, idly squeaking and croaking. Your only mistake is letting out a fearful breath, because suddenly the creature stops and screeches loudly, lunging at you at full speed.

You take off down the hall, pushing past the stone and rubble with the damned thing hot on your heels. Right as you think it’s about to snatch you right up with its bubbly deteriorating arms, an arm lunges out and yanks you into a room pressing you right up against the wall. You flinch violently and stare at the mysterious person in front of you, you can’t help but tremble as you open your mouth.

The stranger gives you a pointed look, slamming his hand over your mouth as he presses himself tight against you, “If you don’t wanna end up dead just sit the fuck still and be quiet,” he harshly whispers while looking out the corner of his eye to see if the creature is still after you.

Your grip on your shotgun loosens, you both stare at each other in silence as the creature stops outside of the room, croaking as it looks for you. When the thing comes close by the open doorway you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath. It doesn’t go away for another few minutes, when it does it ventures into another room across the hall, its noises slowly fading away until it’s fully gone.

The guy lifts a finger over his mouth and softly makes a “shh” sound. You nod slowly and he slowly lifts his hand off, “Follow me,” he quietly mutters and grabs your hand. You don’t even struggle as he leads you far away from the room, and out some doors that lead to a fire escape. “Careful, the metals all worn out. Don’t need you fallin’ on me.” He says as he begins climbing down.

You stand there quietly trying to think if it’s a good idea to follow this guy. Probably not but you were the one with the gun here, not him. “You coming or what?” He says in annoyance, already halfway down the ladders.

You snap out of it and quickly follow, “Yeah, yeah.” You softly whisper.

When you reach the last set of ladders the stranger is already waiting for you down on the ground, he watches you silently with no expression on his face. “C’mere,” he holds his arms out, “I’ll catch you.” You shouldn’t be so trusting but for some reason you just let yourself fall into his arms. A quiet yelp escapes your lips as you curl into yourself out of fear, “Relax, scary part’s over.” He lets out a deep chuckle.

“T-Thank you,” you mutter, still shaken up over the incident, “I really appreciate what you did back there, I haven’t seen those things since this entire thing started. I guess I wasn’t so prepared to go against one up close like that,” you mutter while kicking a rock around.

He shrugs, “I don’t think anyone can ever be prepared to face off against one of those things.” He sighs while looking around, “You got somewhere you gotta be or you just like wandering into abandoned buildings in your free time?” He shoves his hands into his pockets, a small grin grazing his lips.

It’s not the best idea to ever tell a stranger where you’re going especially given the situation the entire world is in. “I was just trying to scavenge,” you finally say after a few seconds, “I was running out of a few things so I decided to get some air while I was out.” You can’t keep eye contact with him for the love of your own life. His gaze is pretty intense and he seemed like the type of person who kept eye contact throughout an entire conversation.

“Ah,” he nods, “I was too, but then I heard the commotion and decided to see what was up, and you were there.” He chuckles, “Kim Taehyung.” He holds his hand out.

“y/n.” You reply softly and take his much bigger hand into yours, “Well, I think I’ll be going now. Can’t keep my group waiting.” You trail off nervously when his grip tightens instead of letting you go, “Um, Taehyung..? My hand?” You whisper out.

Taehyung hums, “It’s getting pretty late isn’t it? Sun down is around the corner and well, it doesn’t seem pretty ideal to walk around all by yourself in the dark now is it?” He tilts his head.

He’s right, you can see the sun start to set slowly and the world around you is painted in a dark orange-yellow hue. Your little lie wasn’t going to keep up much longer if he decides to walk you to your “group”. You nod slowly, “Yeah.. I guess so.” You rub the side of your arm as a chilly breeze sweeps over the both of you.

“Wanna come back with me to my place? Not far, just a ten minute walk from here, even got working water and electricity.” You perk up at the last two things which ends up making him laugh, “Yeah I know, you’ll see what I mean.” He begins pulling you along with him, hand wrapped tightly around your wrist.

“I wouldn’t wanna intrude or anything,” you quickly say, “I can just go back to my group, ‘s not a problem really.” You wince a little when his grip begins to become painful.

Taehyung shakes his head, “ ‘s not safe out here at night, just stop being stubborn will you? You looked ready to give up back there with just one of those things, now imagine dozens?” He chuckles humorlessly with his head still turned away, you sigh quietly and go limp finding it no use to fight back because he clearly wasn’t going to let you go which in itself looked like an entire red flag.

He leads you to another building, you notice the slight change in temperature when you walk into the darkened lobby, it’s slightly warmer.. “How did you get the electricity to work?” You wonder out loud while looking around.

“Turns out the power generator wasn’t completely ruined, wasn’t very hard to get it going again and well, now we have working water and electricity.” He shrugs while guiding you down the hall and stopping in front of a door.

You frown in confusion, “We?” You tilt your head, “There’s someone else?” Oh this wasn’t what you were expecting, now you had to stay alert for not only Taehyung but his fucking friend too.

“Yeah, Jungkook.” He says like nothing while punching in the keycode, “He’s one of the guys I met when this all happened, we stayed together—no not like that,” he chuckles, “he’s a good friend of mine.” He gives you a bright smile before pushing the door open.

You’re hit with warmth and light, the entire room is lit up and you can smell something cooking in the kitchen. This makes you reminisce about the past when you would be coming home after a long day at work, cooking something up and unwinding with your pup on the couch. Your heart twists bitterly as you clutch your backpack closer, you hear noises come from the kitchen and you turn your head in alarm.

“Relax, that’s Jungkook.” Taehyung chuckles as he guides you into the living room with his hands over your shoulders, “Jungkook, this is y/n and y/n, Jungkook.” He cheerfully introduces you two like you’re longtime friends or something, “I saved her from a clicker just now.” He briefly says to Jungkook.

Jungkook gives you one good look, dark eyes trailing over you before he turns his back, “You guys hungry?” He breaks the tension in the room, it has you sagging in relief that he wasn’t rude or didn’t see you as a threat. “She looks like she’s seen better days, don’t be fucking rude Tae let her shower n shit the food is almost ready anyways.” He comments while shaking some spices into the food he was making.

“Oh shit, forgot about that. C’mere, bathroom’s this way.” Taehyung pushes you down another hall, “Hot water n everything so go crazy. Clean towel’s there, and you’re welcome to help yourself to anything in there. I have some extra razors, don’t know if you’d need them or anything I don’t know but yeah.” He smiles, “See you when you’re done.” He leaves after that.

You stand in the bathroom quietly for a few seconds, you don’t like the ugly little feeling you get in your tummy from being around these guys. You’re grateful and all but you can’t help the distrusting feeling you get. With a heavy sigh you set your things down and begin undressing out of your clothes. The water feels so amazing against your sore muscles, you stand under the shower just basking in the luxury of hot water with your eyes closed.

Cleanup goes fairly quickly, you helped yourself to one of the razors Taehyung mentioned to you and took your time in scrubbing the dirt and grime off of your body. Now that you think about it, it made sense earlier as to why Taehyung didn’t look dirty or anything. This explains a whooolleeee lot now.

“Hey y/n,” Taehyung calls out as the door opens, “Came to give you something.” He says like it’s no big deal at all while he enters the bathroom.

“T-Taehyung..!” You gasp in shock, throwing yourself into the corner of the shower while staring at the curtains in terror, “Whatever it is, can you just please drop it somewhere! Kinda not in the best situation right now,” you clutch the loofah close.

Taehyung laughs, “Calm down, I just came to give you an extra pair of clothes. Yours are kinda worn down no offense, it wouldn’t make sense to re-dress in nasty clothes after cleaning yourself now would it?” He says as he moves around the bathroom.

“Thanks..but um..can you…?” You trail off.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he breathily chuckles, “Jungkook says the food’s ready, see you out there.” He heads out. You wait for him to close the door but when you hear no sound you peek your head out of the corner of the curtain, “My bad,” Taehyung holds up your tattered clothes, “kinda cute that they got little bears all over them.” He motions to your underwear.

Your face heats up in embarrassment, “Stop looking!”

“I will!” Taehyung lets the door slip shut, his laughter fading as he disappears down the hall. You sigh in relief and let your back hit the wall, what the hell was even that? You were definitely going to be leaving ASAP with the way Taehyung seemed to lack boundaries with literally ANYTHING. First he was touchy and now he’s looking at your underwear shamelessly? That was a no-go.

“I swear I locked it..” You mutter while washing your hair.

After your hot shower you slip out and dry yourself with the towel, you were curious to see what clothes he brought you. You notice it’s a large black shirt and a pair of boxers sitting neatly folded on the counter. Better than nothing you guessed while dropping the towel and dressing yourself. The boxers fit like oversized shorts on you which you’re pretty glad for.

Your heart drops when you see that your backpack isn’t there anymore. A lot of things seem to be running through your mind all at once, was this the end? Were you going to die now? All because of a hot shower?

“Oh there you are,” Jungkook comments when you walk into the same room from before, he notices your panicked state and chuckles, “relax, Tae put your things over there by the door. He put your clothes to wash too.” He nods his head in the direction of the laundry room, “You hungry?” He holds up a bowl of hot food.

“Thank you..” You softly whisper while going over to sit at the table, your mouth waters at the sight of hot food, another luxury you couldn’t afford in this world after leaving your uncle’s home to go to Busan.

Jungkook eyes you appreciatively in his clothes as he sets the food down in front of you, “Glad to see they fit.” He comments, “You can start eating by the way, Tae’s gonna shower so it’ll be just us two til he gets back.” He lazily shrugs while sitting across from you.

He set out an array of side dishes like rice, kimchi, wood ear mushrooms and other stuff that looks really tasty. The two of you eat in silence with Jungkook humming occasionally at the taste or something like that. You don’t really want to talk much either so you’re grateful for the quietness between the two of you. The food is really amazing too, it fills your ravenous hunger you’ve had for the past week since running out of granola bars.

“So,” Jungkook leans back in his chair, “Tae says you’re a part of a group huh?” He tilts his head, “Kinda explains the shot gun n shit. Loads of ammo too.” He picks up a piece of meat and shoves it into his mouth.

“Yeah..” You mumble, “I was just scavenging, had to cross through the building n yeah that’s how me and Tae ran into each other—or more like him saving me.”

Jungkook nods, “Okay… so why don’t you tell me the real truth? No bullshitting either sweetheart, we’ve been here for how many years and never have we ever seen or heard of a group past that building or on our side.” He smirks, “C’mon, tell me. I don’t bite.”

You stare at him in awe and realization that you’ve been caught, “Fuck okay,” you sigh heavily, “Originally I was staying with my uncle in the outskirts of Suwon after the whole apocalypse happened, for years now I’ve been believing my parents are still alive and out there, problem is out there is literally all the way down in Busan,” you see him perk up at the mention of Busan, “so I’ve been walking ever since trying to get there to find them, they’re farmers, if they’re out there they’re probably still in the old farmhouse I grew up in.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” he nods, “I’m fuckin’ impressed you made it this far, shit not even me who was stranded Ulsan when this all happened.” He shakes his head, “Guess we all got something that keeps up goin’ huh.” He leans back in his chair with a hum.

You stare down at your food, “Yeah..” You whisper softly.

The silence is broken when Taehyung comes out of the hall, towel in his hair and a pair of low hanging sweats clinging over his hips as he whistles, “Looks good,” he says to Jungkook while taking a seat next to him, it’s only then you fully see that he’s not wearing a shirt at all. You turn your head slightly in embarrassment as Taehyung laughs, “What? Something on my face?”

“No you idiot, obviously someone you fucking just met wouldn’t wanna see you half naked ‘n shit you pervert.” Jungkook elbows his friend.

“I’m not though,” Taehyung snorts, “I’m sure she’s seen worse than this,” he shoots you a wink to which you hunch your shoulders together sheepishly.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “So did basic etiquette also fly out the window when the apocalypse happened or what?” Taehyung doesn’t reply anything because he’s too busy stuffing his face, Jungkook’s eyes land back on you and he sits up, “You look sleepy, you can take my room if you want I’ll sleep here,” he nods, “and before you panic I’ll take your backpack to you too.” He smirks.

You slump in your seat with a sigh, “Thanks..”

“No need.” Jungkook curtly replies and gets up as he brings your backpack over, “Follow me.” He treads down the hall with your things flung over his broad shoulder.

“G’Night pretty,” Taehyung grins with a wicked glint in his eyes as he looks at you up and down, “very fuckin’ pretty..” He chuckles quietly and goes back to eating.

You shiver, and not in the good way either. You follow Jungkook into another room, he’s already setting your things down and bringing out pillows, “I usually sleep without one but here’s some I had in my closet,” he sets them down, “not that there’s much to steal but please don’t take my shit. I trust you.” He gives you a firm pat, squeezing your waist as he slips by you.

“Thank..you..?” You turn to watch him.

“Yeah, yeah no funny business. Night sweetheart.” He lets the door slip shut quietly.

The first thing you do is lock it, making sure the door is jammed before you take one of his chairs he had and press it right up against the knob. When you feel like no one can enter you finally slip into the comfy bed, groaning in relief as your sore body slumps into the sheets. It’s been so long since you’ve had a proper bed to lay in. You roll around before curling over a pillow and hugging it tight to your chest.

Your tired eyes slip shut and you fall asleep comfortably for the first time in ages.

You pry your eyes open when a beam of sunlight hits you across your face. At first you’re confused and disoriented but then everything that happened to you yesterday comes down as you recap quickly. You slowly sit up with a loud yawn, looking around the room in daze. Everything is as you left it, and the chair is still propped up against the door.

“Time is it..” You mutter and look around. You find a clock on the wall and squint your eyes to read the time. “Oh,” it’s noon. You shuffle out of bed despite your limbs protesting as you look around for your things, you had an extra change of clothes in your backpack anyways so getting your old clothes was not a issue.

The weather as of lately has been pretty bipolar, hot or breezy so you never knew what to expect. You figured it was springtime anyways. You dressed in a loose white flower printed camisole, another pair of brown shorts over black tights and managed to slip your boots back on.

“Alright,” you bring out your map and check the streets etc, “took me here..so now we go this way,” you mutter quietly while reading the map. You had made sure to catch the name of the building before entering last night. That way it would be easier when leaving. “Okay.” You smile and fold the map back up.

You step out of the room with your belongings on your back, treading down the hall quietly as you come across Taehyung and Jungkook setting the table, “Oh you’re awake.” Jungkook says as his eyes drop to your hands where you’re clutching the straps of your backpack.

Taehyung pauses and turns to look too, “Oh…” He trails off, visibly upset that you’re already going. “ ‘s pretty dangerous out there.” He comments with a blank look.

“I’ll find a way.” You reply curtly, “I appreciate you guys letting me stay the night but I really have to go now. Thank you.” You bow in appreciation, Jungkook doesn’t say anything and instead Taehyung makes his way over to stand in front of you.

“At least stay for breakfast yeah? C’mon there’s no harm in that.” Taehyung pleads while setting a bowl down on the table, “Plus, why would you even wanna go? Those things are still out there, they’ll tear you apart the first chance they get. Just stay, yeah?” It’s no longer, stay for breakfast, rather Taehyung is now openly begging you to stay.

Your breath hitches when you see his hand come up to touch your shoulder, you jerk away and take a step back, “I’m leaving Taehyung, thank you from the bottom of my heart but I’ll be fine.” You say firmly while stepping past him.

Jungkook calmly stands there with his arms over his chest, he looks down at you and hums, “You’re not leaving sweetheart,” he calmly says, “why don’t you get that backpack off and sit down so we can all eat together.”

When it becomes apparent they have no intention of letting you leave you snap, “Get away from me!” You shove Jungkook as hard as you possibly can, watching him stumble out of shock as you duck past him and slam the front door open.

“y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells out.

You don’t waste another second and run down to the exit, kicking the door open and heading down the street towards the way you were supposed to go. Adrenaline kicks in like never before as you whip your head back occasionally to see if they’re following. You’re pretty far when you notice Jungkook and Taehyung exiting out the building looking both ways before they see you and start running.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper while jumping over fallen things and rocks.

They’re yelling a bunch of shit that you don’t care about, your main focus is to get the hell away from them. You duck into a building, taking note that it’s a mall as you manage to run up the escalator. “She went in here!” Taehyung says not far behind.

You hear their heavy footsteps as they run up the steps too. You see a rack sitting there so you throw it down and keep pushing forward. Jungkook curses loudly while he and Tae push through the mess on the ground. You see a clothing shop with a half-closed metal overhead door as you fall to the ground and slip under it to the other side.

The crawlspace was small enough for you, you’re confident Taehyung and Jungkook were going to have to pry it open (if they even could) to follow you. “Shit,” you hear Taehyung, “she went through here.”

“Move.” Jungkook reaches to yank at the door.

Your eyes widen in horror when you hear the door creak, showing signs that it would in fact be opening up more. You run to the back of the store, barreling in as you look around for a exit only to find that you’re in a simple storage room. There was no other exit, the mall in fact must not even have those backroom exits.

Your eyes tear up as you shakily back up into the wall with no other choice but to bring out your shotgun and aim it at the door. You hear nothing but your fast breathing and pounding heart in your ears. Any moment now… Your finger curled over the trigger as you bounced your knee in anticipation.

A beat passes before the door suddenly slams open, hitting the wall full force as Jungkook comes barreling in. You jump in absolute fear, aiming blindly as you pull the trigger. “Oh shit!” Taehyung yells, he doesn’t bother entering the room at first as he ducks to the side of the doorway after the bullet grazes the wall next to the doorway.

Jungkook yells something you can’t really make out through the ringing in your ears from the deafening noise. He wrestles the shotgun out of your hands, tossing it to the corner far away from you both. “Hey, hey,” he loudly curses, “calm down will you?!” He grunts.

Taehyung slips into the room and comes over to pin you down, “Shh, shh, we’re here now y/n,” he says as he leans down to nose along your shoulder and neck, “ ‘s safe with us.” He whispers in his deep baritone voice.

The fear combined with the stress (and adrenaline) of the situation sends you into a full blown panic attack. Your vision begins getting spotty and you feel like you’re on the verge of passing out. Probably from how malnourished you were given that the past few weeks you’ve been surviving on one granola bar every week.

You yell and twist around, loud sobs pouring from your lips as you thrash endlessly. “N-No! Please! Let me go,” you hiccup through your tears, “stop it,” the fight begins slowly draining out of you. They coo and murmur deceivingly sweet things in your ear, their hands roam all over your body while you lay there limp. “P..lease..” You quietly plead one last time before the world around you begins to fade.

“I’ve got you baby, don’t you worry. Never gonna let you outta my sight,” Taehyung whispers, “....s.afe..with us.” You manage to hear right before losing consciousness.

5 months later..

Everyday waking up felt more like a chore and the only time you ever found yourself looking forward to something was going to sleep. Sleeping was like some sort of escape from reality where you would find yourself dreaming of the day you reunite with your parents. Another dream you frequently had was you being back at your uncle’s farm living day by day in utter peace surrounded by the people you loved.

It was a pretty memory that would be ruined the moment you woke up to find either Taehyung or Jungkook over you.

They were like animals, they had no self control and acted like a bunch of hormonal teens around you. Taehyung especially, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off nor his pants on. You lost track of the days inbetween sleeping or them fucking you like no tommorrow. Waking up sore between your legs or with cum dripping from your gaping pussy was a familiar feeling.

Taehyung was the more shameless one between the two. He’d fuck you almost every chance he got with his hands never straying from your body for more than two minutes whenever he was around you. He kept you chained in his room by the ankle on his bed wearing nothing but his shirt and those bear printed panties you came to hate. They were ruined the minute he’d lay with you, hand stuffed deep inside and his long slender fingers buried knuckle deep in your soaked pussy.

You hated that your body responded very well to his touches, hell you’d even slick up to the sound of him entering the room with the amount of times he fucked you or had his hands on you. Taehyung’s mouth was even filthier with the amount of shit he said in that husky tone whenever he had you pinned under him—knees pressed to your shoulders as he folded you in half and punched his cock deep inside your bruised cunt.

“Just needed a cock in you pretty, didn’t you,” he’d whisper while grinding his hips in slow circles with his cock rubbing up against every crevice of your pussy, his balls pressed tight against your ass as low squelching noises filled the quiet bedroom.

Jungkook was used to the sounds of the headboard banging or bed creaking against the wooden floor. He’d lay awake in his own room with a hand wrapped tight against his cock while he listened to you cry and mewl in pleasure. Other times he’d walk into the room just to see Taehyung balls deep in you with your legs spread wide and a string of white creaminess sticking to Taehyung’s pelvis and cock whenever he pulled out of your messy pussy.

At the moment you were curled into your side, balling up under the warm sheets as you tried to find more sleep. After a few more minutes of tossing and turning you begrudgingly accepted that you weren’t going to be getting any more sleep. Your puffy eyes cracked open as you stared over at the window. The curtains were closed but from the tiny corner you could see that it was night time already.

Taehyung and Jungkook had yet to come back, they said something about getting some things they needed from the mall. A tiny part of you wished they wouldn’t come back though. Maybe they’d be ambushed by those things and eaten alive (your biggest fantasy was them getting their cocks ripped off for what they’ve done to you). You could only dream, you sigh wistfully.

You sit up in bed and look around the dark room, there’s nothing much to do so you end up doodling in your sketchbook for a bit before laying back down just dreading the arrival of your captors. They get back around midnight, a little over an hour after you had woken up. Your eyes are slipped shut as you try to fall back asleep, and right when your body and mind both shut down the door is opened.

Taehyung comes in silently, humming under his breath as he sets some bags down on the ground. You don’t pay much attention, just curling into yourself with closed eyes while he goes about with whatever the hell he’s doing. The sound of Taehyung unbuckling his belt is enough to have your pussy throbbing, already slicking up for what’s about to come. He shuffles around and slips his shirt off, and then his pants.

The bed dips low and creaks under his weight when he climbs in next to you. You squeeze your eyes tight and try to breathe normally. Taehyung’s hand falls on your thigh and rubs over the soft skin slowly, each time going higher and higher until he’s playing with the waistband of your underwear. Your skin prickles all over with goosebumps as he quietly laughs under his breath.

“Look so pretty like this,” he mumbles while leaning in to hide his face in your neck, “bet your little pussy’s all wet for me too..” He dips his fingers in and slides them through your chubby folds, “Fuckin’ soaked—got you waiting for this cock huh?” He circles his fingers over your wet clit, “C’mon pretty, open up for me. Know you’re awake,” he rasps out and rubs faster.

You breathily sigh and fall into the bed pliantly while he plays with your clit between his long slender fingers. Taehyung slips his fingers between your dewy sticky folds, going right over your greedy hole. It clenches around nothing and you wait with a bated breath for him to slip them inside.

“Hear that baby?” Taehyung whispers as his lips slide over your neck and suck on a particular spot, “Messy little thing you are,” he comments while pressing his crotch over your ass and letting you feel the hard print of his swelling cock from inside his boxers, “don’t worry though—not gonna be empty for long, gonna fill you up and give it to you real good pretty.” He rasps out.

He rolls his hips in the tiniest of circles, letting out deep sighs and grunts while he plays with your pussy with one hand and the other grips your ass cheek. He squeezes the doughy cheek and pulls it apart to expose your puckered hole, “Gonna fuck you here too one day,” he rolls his hips more insistently, “gonna make all your pretty holes mine.”

You bite back a mewl when his thumb flicks over your clit in rapid sweeping motions, it has you grinding into his hand and simultaneously pushing back on his hard cock. You feel it slot between your cheeks—hot and throbbing—as it slides over the rim of your asshole. You weakly clench down on nothing, pussy pathetically spewing more slick and dribbling between your silky folds.

“One day,” he mutters, “not now.” Taehyung reaches up to steady you by the hip. You hear shuffling in the back as Taehyung kicks his boxers off, letting the dampened material fall to the ground. His hands are on you in a heartbeat, he racks the oversized shirt you’re wearing up around your waist and tugs at your panties with two fingers. “Open a little wider for me pretty—there you go, that’s it.” He purrs.

Taehyung wraps a hand around the back of your knee and holds it up as he lifts your leg into the air. You bite your lip and turn your face into the pillow to hide in, “Keep it up here for me,” he murmurs while letting go.

You can hear him fist his cock from behind you as he takes his cock and slaps it over your folds repeatedly. “Fuck,” he sighs almost dreamily while positioning the mushroomy tip at your clenched hole, “relax n let me in baby, good girl.” He murmurs while kicking his hips forward and pushing his cock into you.

Your lips part in a small ‘o’, no noise escaping as he fills you inch for inch with his heavy fat cock. This spooning position does nothing but make you aware just how big his cock is, you feel fucking stuffed and full of him with the rim of your pussy stretching a bit painfully to accommodate him. Taehyung releases a low growl and shoves himself into you impatiently. His hips smack against your ass with a loud squelch.

“Shit…” He sighs out like he’s relieved to be buried deep inside you, he shifts around and presses himself closer to you. You feel him drape himself over your back with his face buried in the junction of your neck and shoulder. He breathes your scent in and moans quietly while circling his hips slowly, cock shifting from side to side inside of you.

“God you feel so good,” he whispers as his hand grips your hip tight, “don’t think I’ll ever get used to fuckin’ this pussy.” He moans once more and presses in.

You double over and fist the pillow you’re laying on tightly, you can feel his hot thick balls press snug against your ass with each grind and thrust. Taehyung’s busy sucking marks into the back of your neck, he rolls his hips smoothly and occasionally bottoms out and presses into you deeply. His cock reemerges drenched in copious amounts of slick, the noise it makes is filthy as he pushes in deep.

“Shit, like that.” He moves faster, humping into you in quick little rolls as your cheeks smack against his pelvis repeatedly.

Your mouth opens and you quietly pant into the hot pillow, ears burning when you hear the squelching and the sound of his balls connecting to your ass from where they swing. Taehyung moans into your ear and slips his hand down your front to spread your pussy apart in a ‘V’ shape, “C’mon baby, play with yourself.” He huffs.

Most likely if you don’t do it he will so you slip your hand down and circle your clit with your fingers. You rub in circular motions, matching the speed of his thrusts. You can’t help the strangled moan that you let out because he pairs this with perfectly aimed thrusts, cockhead brushing over your g-spot repeatedly. The noises you held in begin spilling from your lips, you whimper and whine quietly while laying three fingers over your clit and rubbing side to side quickly.

“You gonna cum baby?” Taehyung gasps, “Can feel you getting tighter,” he grunts while smacking his hips into yours harder.

You throw your head back on his shoulder and gasp loudly when his cock bumps into your cervix. It hurts but the pain blends easily with the pleasure. Taehyung digs his fingernails into your side and tightly holds on to you while fucking into your pussy harshly. The slapping noises fill the entire room, the sheets shift and the bed rocks into the wall from the force of his thrusts.

“W-Wait,” you gasp breathlessly while your pussy squeezes tight, “fuck—Tae-hyung..!” A garbled cry escapes your lips as your pussy floods wetly, you cum with a high pitched cry while burying your face into his pillow—body shaking like a newborn lamb.

Taehyung hisses and quickly rolls his hips, driving his swollen cock into you over and over again like it’s the last time. He lands a tiny slap over your pussy causing you to cry out in oversensitivity. “Oh shit,” he gasps and slams into you three times before coming to a stop and riding the rest of his orgasm out with tiny grinds. He milks his cock out with a long sigh, pressing in to make sure none of it slips out.

You’re left laying there panting harshly while he warms his cock with your cunt. Only when his cock softens does he let it slip out with a nasty squelch. You can feel a sticky trail of slick and cum bubble between your folds, a small string still connected to his flaccid cock. “So messy,” he mutters while rolling out of bed to bring back a towel.

You stare at the wall with disoriented eyes and a wet ass/pussy.

The very next morning over breakfast Taehyung tells you about a surprise he has for you. You’re suspicious as hell but go along with it and wait patiently for him to give you his “gift”. Nothing good ever comes from him so you’re pretty sure this gift is something more for them than it is for you. When he pulls it out you mentally sigh, proven right.

“Aren’t these pretty?” Taehyung grins while showing off the pretty dresses, “I found ‘em in that store from last time and thought they’d look good on you.” He licks his lips, “Try ‘em on.” He’s not asking, he’s telling you.

You begrudgingly change into one, noting how short it is given that it ends right under your ass. You stand there and let out a deep sigh, “This is the worst..” You mutter while fixing the straps.

“You comin’ out yet pretty?” Taehyung calls out.

“Fucking hell, can’t you wait.” You angrily tug the dress down and unlock the door, “I’m going.” You roll your eyes and walk out of the hallway and to them.

Their eyes naturally shift lower, staring shamelessly as they lick their lips hungrily. “Fits like a glove.” Jungkook nods, “Do a little spin for me sweetheart,” he sits back and man spreads on the couch, “slowly.” His eyes drop down to your exposed thighs.

You slowly turn in a circle stopping when they ask you to. Taehyung whistles lowly while Jungkook hums in appreciation, “Maybe these pretty little dresses are the only thing you should wear around the house, makes you look like a pretty little housewife.” He chuckles.

“She does, doesn't she? If it were up to me she’d be my little housewife walking around with nothin’ underneath leaking with cum and a pussy stuffed full.” Taehyung’s eyes stay glued to your tits where they push against the dress, smushed together from how tight that area was.

“Pretty little thing was made for it.” Jungkook nods with a low hum. You’ve never felt less human.

That night, Jungkook brings you to his room and has you slip on another one of the dresses Taehyung got you. Except this one literally leaves your entire ass hanging out no matter how much you tug on it. It’s a silky dress embroidered with lace and frills, you know you’re not going to stand a chance. He’s already looking at you like he wants to eat you, he lays there with an arm behind his head on the bed, just ogling you in appreciation as you change.

It’s over the moment you turn around. Jungkook quite literally throws you on the bed and pins you down under his hard, heavy body. He wastes no time in pushing the dress up and pinning you with your knees touching your shoulders. His pace is frantic and hard, thighs smacking and balls smacking into you as he fucks like a madman.

The bed violently hits the wall and creaks loudly under the weight of you two. He really has you crying and screaming in pleasure from how rough he was with you. His own grunts and moans rising in volume to match yours. He fucks orgasm after orgasm out of you, each time hurting a little more from how sensitive you were. Your cunt’s rubbed raw, glistening with precum mixed with your slick as a ring of white forms around the base of Jungkook’s cock. Some of his creamy cum drips down between your ass cheeks and on to the rim of your puckered hole. It splatters a little when his balls collide with your ass, staining both him and the bed sheets.

The room’s hot, it stinks with sex as Jungkook fucks you over and over again on the bed. You mewl shakily and kick your dangling feet in the air when he rolls you two over the edge of the bed, your head hangs as he buries himself deep in your pussy and grinds in quick motions. Jungkook has either arm beside your head, caging you in as he watches your expressions with hooded eyes.

“Fuck.” Jungkook bites his lip and moves faster, “Look so goddamn perfect, gonna have this little cunt bred by the end of the night. You’d like that wouldn’t you baby—to be stuffed with my cum dripping?” He breathlessly asks, brow pinched in concentration as he rolls his hips.

When you don’t answer he lands a smack across your ass, tightly squeezing it in his hand afterwards. You mewl quietly and nod, “Answer me baby, wanna hear it from your sweet little lips.” He growls and lands another smack.

You hiccup and sob softly, “Y-Yes..! W-Wanna you to fill me up.” Your toes curl as you shudder when his cock hits your g-spot. All this movement and your head hanging quickly has you recoiling in dizziness as he jostles you.

Jungkook moves his hands and falls into you with your chest pressed to his. He wraps his hands around both of your ass cheeks and grips them tightly while pumping his cock in and out of you. Your thighs tremble in anticipation, cunt greedily swallowing him as low wet smacking noises begin to grow louder.

“Gonna cum sweetheart,” he rasps out with sweat dripping from his brow, “shit—so fuckin’ tight.” He shudders while leaning into you.

Your arms shakily wrap around his shoulders as you hug him tightly, sobbing when his pelvis glides over your clit and traps the sensitive bud between you and him. He fucks in quick thrusts, cock punching in and out of your creamy pussy. You lay there whining quietly as he uses you to get off. His moans turn breathier and quiet until he stops and goes silent.

His cock throbs and twitches, hot cum painting your pussy white as he empties himself in you. Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he finally stops coming, he tiredly lays himself over you and pants, swallowing quietly as he tries to catch his breath. You didn’t cum again but you’re fine, it would have hurt anyway.

“Shit.” He mumbles as he rolls off of you lays side by side, staring up at the ceiling with his wet cock hanging out all bare without a single care in the world. You shakily roll to your side and curl up.

You knew these damn dresses were gonna be trouble..

Something’s off…very off.

For almost a week now you’ve been getting sick and throwing up meal after meal, maybe they were poisoning and finally putting you out of your misery. You wished.. You were sleeping way more than usual and everything just hurt more, even sex—not that it didn’t hurt before but suddenly your clit was too rubbed raw to touch and penetration was starting to hurt and ache? Something was very wrong and they knew it too.

“You think it’s the food?” Taehyung asks while sitting at the table with you and Jungkook, they often talk like you aren’t even there at times. “Or like maybe it’s the flu or something, been finding the window left open at night, could be that she got some air.”

Jungkook eyes you in worry, “I don’t think so Tae, she barely even has anything in her stomach to begin with and she keeps puking her guts out.” He sighs deeply, “y/n baby, how long has this been going on for hm? Weeks?”

You shrug and stare down at the hot food on your plate, “I dunno, not really hungry though.. Just wanna sleep.”

Taehyung frowns, “You need to eat something, wait—maybe she’s on her period or something and it’s probably hitting her really hard. Are you?” He turns to look at you as he waits patiently for your answer.

You open your mouth to say no but then sit there in shock, period.. When was the last time you even had one? Your heart begins pounding as you try to think back to your last cycle, sure you didn’t think about it too often but still it was something you kept track of so things didn’t get super messy in the middle of your travels. They call your name three times before you finally look up at them.

“I haven’t gotten a period.” You whispered, “Last I remember was I think a month ago, wait no I think two..” You begin shaking in your seat, this means one thing for sure.. You look up at them, they’re both sporting surprised looks but Taehyung’s face quickly morphs into one of excitement and happiness.

“So that means..” Taehyung grins, “ ‘s my baby,” he proudly claims, “must’ve knocked her up real good.” He chuckles quietly, dodging Jungkook’s hit, “What?? She’s the one who sleeps in my bed more than you! You’re just jealous it’s not your baby.” He smirks.

Jungkook sighs, “Tae, maybe instead of being so happy about knocking her up worry about her fuckin health.” He glares before turning to you with a soft look, “C’mere sweetheart, let’s get you something for your stomach yeah?” He stands and goes over to guide you into the kitchen, “Tae, run out and bring some pregnancy tests!”

“On it!”

You’re numb the entire time Jungkook talks to you about different meal options, his hand never leaves your waist and he occasionally strokes his thumb over your tummy. How could they be so happy knowing the circumstances behind the baby—or rather this parasite inside of you. Just thinking about the thing made you sicker, and quite frankly more angrier.

“Baby?” Jungkook looks at you in confusion, “I asked if you wanted to have some broth with crackers, it’ll be light on your stomach and will do good for the baby.” Baby… You looked down at your stomach and stared at it, so that’s where the little shit was. “Baby?” He cups your face in his hands.

“Anything is fine,” you mutter, “doesn’t matter now anyways, ‘m basically an incubator.” You glare.

Jungkook ignores your little aggressive comment, “Don’t be like that, ‘s not good for you or the baby. Gotta make sure you’re well fed mama,” he mumbles as he brings you closer, “gotta be a good mama for the baby alright?” He cups your tummy.

You feel frustration bubble up, “I don’t want this fucking parasite in me,” you seethe, “I didn’t ask to be pregnant, I didn’t ask for any of this! I would have been perfectly fine in Busan with my parents if you or Taehyung hadn’t bothered me!” You yell angrily, “Baby this, baby that—what about me?! I’m a human being! This is my life we’re talking about!” You shove his hands off of you.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, “You’re just cranky and moody, understandable sweetheart,” he reaches over to grip you by the throat, “but let’s not get too over your head yeah? Is this all because of Busan? Throwin’ a fit like a goddamn child?” He glares.

“Yes! Exactly that Jungkook, I was doing so fucking fine before YOU or Taehyung.” Your eyes well with tears, “A-And now-now, I can’t even see my parents anymore because I’m stuck here everyday inside of a small ass apartment chained like a goddamn circus animal waiting to be used!” You sob hysterically, everything you’ve held in at this point just erupting.

You hate that he gives you a sympathetic look, he brings you into his arms and you’re too weak to fight against him, “Oh baby,” he rocks you side to side, “when will you understand that your place is with us, we keep you SAFE. We feed you don’t we? We protect you? What more are you asking for?” He says softly like he’s talking to a child or something.

“I-I want to see my mom and dad,” you hiccup, “wanna g-go to Busan ‘n make sure they’re alive ‘n healthy. Please!” You paw at his arms and cling to him like a child, “Please ‘s the only thing I’ll ever ask for!”

Jungkook stares down at you while you cry and beg, he gently rubs his hand over your back and hums, “I’ll talk to Tae about it,” he pulls back to look down at you, “but you have to take care of yourself for the baby’s sake.” He calmly says, “No ifs or buts, if you don’t we’re not going anywhere.”

You bite back the protest sitting on the tip of your tongue, “...Okay..” You mutter.

“Good girl,” Jungkook grins and ruffles your hair, “now go sit down, I’ll call you when the soup is ready.” He ushers you out.

Taehyung and Jungkook spend the entire night talking about it, you can hear them from the bedroom where you sit in pure excitement and hope. Jungkook argues that maybe it’s time to find a new settlement out there, he says something along the lines that raising the baby in the countryside is far better as the infected are less likely to populate rural areas. Taehyung argues that they’re fine altogether given the endless supplies nearby and the running water and electricity they have.

“Jungkook you’re not understanding, I’m gonna be a dad now and I can’t be having y/n walk for almost two months straight in this state. She won’t make it,” Taehyung sighs, “she’s fine here, safe and sound where she has water and heat to keep her warm at night.”

Jungkook releases a heavier sigh, “Tae, there’s a high risk of raiders and you know it. What if we’re out getting supplies one day and someone finds her and the baby? Then what? Or how about when the baby gets here you wanna keep them inside these four small ass walls for the rest of their lives? Is that what you think is best for the baby?”

You sit with a bated breath, waiting for Taehyung’s reply. You’re fucked if he says no, because Jungkook will NOT go anywhere unless Taehyung comes with. You feel your heart twist bitterly as you stare down at your hands, if Taehyung says no you really think you’ll resort to murder just to escape..

“Fine. We’ll go but if it’s far worse we’re heading straight back got it?” Taehyung grunts, “Can’t believe I’m agreeing to this shit.” He mutters while heading out to the patio.

You smile widely and lay back with your head turned to the window, admiring the bright moon, “Soon..” You quietly whisper to yourself.

Please wait for me..

The three of you set out one crisp Autumn morning, you almost forgot what the outside looked like given that you were only given the luxury of the windows in the apartment. Jungkook and Taehyung keep you close with a hand around your waist or wrapped around your own in a tight hold.

“Gotta cross that bridge to catch the highway that leads us into the countryside roads to Busan,” Jungkook says while reading the map, “from there I think we should be good and just keep walking straight.” He sighs as he folds the map back up.

Taehyung hums in acknowledgment as he reaches over to slip his arm around your waist and tug you close, “You good baby?” He asks softly, “Don’t want you overworking yourself.” He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You nod while looking around the area, “I’m fine, wanna go now.” You tug at his hand and follow after Jungkook. They try to make conversation with you but you’re fully locked in on one thing: Busan.

It takes up almost a day to make it to the bridge and get on the highway, luckily those things aren’t out in the open so the walk is much easier and stress free. You pass the time by admiring the plant life around you and remembering what once was when you come across clothing shops and closed restaurants.

The wind blows the flowy dress you’re wearing, you would have preferred something like jeans or whatever but they swapped out almost all of your clothes for dresses. You liked them and they were cute and all but this was something you would have liked to wear for yourself back at home and not for them.

“Look,” Taehyung stops in his tracks to bring you over to the bridge railing, “kinda looks nice yeah?” He smiles as the wind blows through his hair.

The three of you stand together watching the water below calmly moving in one direction, birds fly high over your heads and into the pink-ish sunset. You smile to yourself and nod, “I like it. Super nice.”

Jungkook leans his head over your shoulder and hums, “Pretty like you.” He comments to which you ignore. The three of you stay a little longer before Jungkook pats you gently on the back, “Alright, time to go. Gotta find somewhere before sundown.” He warns and takes your hand in his, leading you away from the peaceful sight.

You insist to them you’re more than fine walking through the dark with them but Taehyung’s absolutely not having it. He gives you one glare and you’re left to sulk in the dark quietly, begrudgingly following the two into a spot for the night somewhere off the road in the overgrown grass. Jungkook makes sure the area is clear before he lays out your sleeping bags on the ground.

“Calm down, Busan ain’t going nowhere sweetheart,” Jungkook comments when he sees how uneasy you are, “here lay down.” He pulls you in and tucks you into the warm sleeping bag, “All this walking won’t be any good on you,” he leaves the ‘or the baby’ out given your feelings about the pregnancy, “gotta have you well rested.” He mumbles and leans down to press a gentle kiss over your lips.

You stare at him with an incredulous look, you rather keep walking day and night if meant getting away from them two and reaching your parents quicker. Any more of this and you’re going to lose it, you grumble quietly and snuggle into the sleeping bag turned away from them. “Night.” You curtly reply.

“G’night pretty.”

Sleep comes fairly easy but you’re still a bit uncomfortable from laying on the cold hard ground. You spent at least a good hour tossing and turning before sleep took over and sent you into a state of peace. Though by now you knew that peace was never an option, not with these two on your ass half the time.

Your eyes flutter open in confusion, you take in your surroundings for a few seconds before realizing you’re flat on your back. You note the familiar weight sitting on top of you and the slick noises down below. “Hn?” You try to make out who it is but it’s difficult with their face buried in your neck.

“Awake pretty?” Taehyung whispers into your ear, “Was wondering when you were gonna wake up.” He runs his tongue over the shell of your ear with a low moan, “Sorry baby, couldn’t resist seeing you so pretty in the dresses we got you.” He slurs out, you notice he has a hand stuffed between the two of you with his heavy cock in his hand, “Had to have you,” he breathes out while laying his pelvis flat against yours, “feel that? You did that.”

His cock’s all slicked up and hot as it presses against your inner thigh. There’s no use in fighting back as you let your thighs fall open to accommodate him. Taehyung makes a pleased noise as he grinds his cock over your clothed pussy. It bumps and nudges against you which in turn makes your clit throb with excitement. You huff quietly and angle your hips low to see if his cock will bump into your clit again.

Taehyung’s cock slips and slides over your cunt, you begin to grow annoyed and reach down to shove your panties down. He eagerly helps you slide them off with the material getting stuck around your ankle. When he goes to spread you open with his fingers, you let out a pained cry and shove at his hand weakly. Your clit and hole were more sore than you thought.

“What is it baby?” He asks with worry etched onto his face.

You shake your head, “Hurts,” you reply softly and move his hand away, “don’t like it, it hurts.”

Taehyung moves his hand away from your cunt, “Won’t touch you there then baby,” he murmurs while kissing your lips as an apology.

You huff quietly and wiggle around with a pissy glare, “And now my back hurts too.” You shove at his chest and grumble, “Off, off.” Taehyung doesn’t budge, instead he lets you roll over on to your side to alleviate the pressure. Your eyes snap over to him when you feel his cock slip between your thighs.

“Shh..gonna use your pretty little thighs sweetheart.” Taehyung whispers as he rolls his hips slowly. You let your head drop back to the pillow with an annoyed huff, his cock occasionally brushes over your clit from where it sits snug against your pussy. Doesn’t hurt but it bothers you.

He quietly moans and pants under his breath while using your thighs to get off. His leaky cock leaves trails of pearly white cum smeared over your thighs and cunt. Some of it even gets your cheeks wet, making the heat you’re feeling more unbearable. “Can’t wait till you’re bigger pretty,” he whispers, “gonna look so good full of our baby.”

His hips snap upwards when he says that, “ ‘s like you were made to be bred,” he growls and reaches down to slip a hand into your dress, fondling and squeezing your tit in his hand, “got such pretty tits, look at ‘em,” he grunts while slapping one, “can’t wait till they’re leaking with milk.”

You shudder in disgust at the thought, you already felt like you weren’t in your own body, him talking about its upcoming changes has you gagging. You choose to ignore anything related to the pregnancy, closing your eyes and trying to block out his words.

“Oh fuck,” he shudders, “gonna always keep you full and swollen—gonna breed you over and over again pretty.” Taehyung rolls his hips faster and faster until he stops with a shaky sigh, cum shooting out in white ropes over you and the sleeping bag. He stays still for a few seconds before pulling his spent cock from between your thighs.

Great, he ruined your sleeping bag.

The air around you is hot despite the season being autumn. You trudge along behind Jungkook while toying with the sleeves of your hoodie which has long been discarded and tied around your waist. Jungkook says it’s only a matter of days before you’re all in Busan. You’re just relieved the gruesome trip is finally coming to an end and you probably won’t have to see them ever again.

Dealing with both Taehyung and Jungkook was slowly starting to work a nerve inside of you. As your pregnancy progressed so did the symptoms that came with it. Your back hurt like a bitch, your tits were sensitive, and your mood swings were very random. Everyday was a challenge with these two they just wouldn’t leave you alone and in peace. Not to mention the thing inside of you, it was the main source of all your headaches and morning sickness.

“There’s a gas station up ahead,” Taehyung points, “let’s head there to take a break, yeah? My fuckin’ feet are killing me.” He groans while adjusting his hold on the rifle in his hands. “And don’t start with me y/n, we all need a fucking break,” he shoots you a warning glance.

You kick a nearby rock and glare back, “I wasn’t going to say anything.” It comes out more snappier than usual, something about today just had every nerve in your body sending you into overdrive.

Taehyung shoots you a look, “You don’t have to, I can already feel you complaining about why we have to stop.” He mutters, “All you’ve done since we left Daegu. Not all of us wanna walk till the fucking sun starts to set.”

You whip around to give him a piece of your mind when Jungkook tugs you over to his side, “Tae,” Jungkook gives him a silent look before he turns his attention to you, “I just wanna rest in peace, so please let’s just keep our thoughts to ourselves and keep it moving. Fighting isn’t gonna get us there faster either.”

“Well maybe picking fights with a pregnant person isn’t so bright either.” You spit out angrily while walking faster.

Taehyung scoffs, “Oh so now you’re pulling the pregnant card? After all this time acting like the baby doesn’t even exist to you, I see you.”

You whip around and stop walking, “Because it doesn’t! This fucking parasite inside of me doesn’t exist to me and it never will. I never wanted it in the first place and now I’m stuck with it in MY body, so maybe that explains why I fuckin’ hate it and don’t talk about it!” You hiss.

The silence is deafening. Jungkook doesn’t seem so shocked you lashed out but Taehyung absolutely looks livid with the way you talked about the baby. You don’t care, if anything you’re smug because at least he knows you hate the thing. “If it were up to me,” you speak lowly, “I would have gotten rid of it the moment I found out.”

And with that you stomp off towards the gas station. “y/n! y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells but Jungkook says something along the lines of ‘let her be’. You huff angrily and throw the door open to the station, it’s dark and dusty as hell in there but you’re too angry to really care. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” You mutter while looking around for something edible, preferably chocolate.

As you’re looking up and down the aisles you hear a quiet thud. You briefly look up with a pinched look, “Probably one of those idiots.” You mutter quietly while going back to looking for candy. The noise gets louder and once again interrupts your search, “What the fuck.” You sigh in annoyance and look over at the backroom.

The door suddenly slams open and a mangled body comes barreling out, screeching loudly while flailing around and knocking things over. Your eyes widen and you drop the candy bar you had in your hands, “Oh shit.” You make a run for the door, head whipping back to see the zombie launch itself from the other side to you, its hands outstretched and swinging wildly.

“Jungkook! Taehyung!” You fall through the door and crawl away desperately as the thing wraps its hand around your ankle to yank you back, “Help me!” You sob and desperately kick at the thing.

Taehyung aims the rifle and shoots without hesitation, it takes at least two shots to keep the thing down. “Fuck are you okay?” Taehyung runs over to pull you up into his arms, “Did it bite you? Are you hurt?” He paws all over and inspects your body for any bites or wounds.

“I-I’m okay.” You quietly whisper and look back at the store, “I-I don’t know if t-there’s more in there.” A tiny sob bubbles up as you hide your face in his chest and grip his shirt tightly.

Taehyung looks over at Jungkook and silently nods, “Hey you’re okay, look at me,” he cups your face, “you’re fine, ‘s nothing we already got rid of it.” He whispers while brushing your hair out of your face. You weakly nod and stay close by while Jungkook checks for any more infected inside of the station.

Taehyung’s practically glued to you after that, and not that you want him close by but in a way he helps calm you down. Jungkook had quickly gathered food and water before the three of you set back out. The walk was silent save for the sounds of birds chirping and crickets hiding in the tall grass. Everything just feels so unreal right now as you still process your near death experience.

“I think we have to go that way,” Jungkook quietly says, “leads to the countryside—you said your parents lived away from the city right?” He says and stops in his tracks to look at you.

“Yeah.” You look at the map in his hands. “If I’m right we only have a good hour to go, farm’s not that far from here. I recognized the road cause my dad used to take me through here whenever we were going into the city.” You say while reading one of the familiar road signs.

Jungkook nods, “Lead the way then.”

The three of you walk through the dirt, passing by big farms and bus stations that definitely make you reminisce. You haven’t been here in so long it feels weird, you would have loved to come when things didn’t hit the fan and everything went into chaos. You can’t hide the anticipation on your face, it was practically eating at you.

Taehyung notices this because he reaches for your hand and holds it tight, “Any closer?”

“Yeah.” Your heart pounds in your chest, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’re not so sure you’re prepared for what’s about to come. If your parents aren’t there—no, they are, you’re so sure of it. Something tells you they’re fine. You’re so excited you nearly barf.

You come to a stop when the three of you reach the wooden gate entrance, Jungkook is quick to open the latch and push the gate open. “y/n,” Jungkook calls out in surprise because you immediately start heading to the house. You ignore them and their calls, stumbling over your feet as you make your way to your home. Your eyes get watery from the swirl of emotions you’re feeling.

‘I did it.’ You run on to the porch and push the door open, “Mom! Dad! It’s me!” You call out loudly while heading into the living room, “Mom?” You look around frantically. Everything in the house looks untouched, the windows are open as the white curtains flutter with the wind. You feel your heart drop a few times here and there but you’re more excited than anything.

“Mom! Dad!” You head into another room and look around frantically. Nothing is out of place and the house looks well taken care of, so where were your parents? You take a seat on a chair, ignoring the sounds of Jungkook and Taehyung entering the house. Where were they..? You begin to tear up.

You catch a small white envelope sitting in the corner of the table. You reach over and your eyes widen when you see that it was addressed to you. With frantic hands you tear it open and begin reading, eager to find out where your parents could be. As you’re reading Taehyung comes into the room and leans over your shoulder with a curious look. You don’t even reprimand him for reading something that doesn’t concern him.

“..I knew you would come looking for us, it’s in your nature to be stubborn as hell like your mama,” Taehyung reads out loud as Jungkook pauses whatever the hell he was looking at, “we didn’t think you would be content with staying put, and if for whatever reason you find yourself here we’re gone. We’re safe if you must know, we’ve left to a settlement with others where we hopefully can rebuild the life we once had. When you’re ready come to us, you’ve made it this far kiddo I don’t think you’ll have trouble getting to us. For now rest, I assume you’re tired, we left the animals in the barn with food that is most likely gone by now, there’s preserved foods in the bunker below that we’ve been harvesting. Hope to see you soon,” Taehyung finishes.

Your hands shake as you read the date below—you were a week late.

“I guess that’s that.” Jungkook sighs.

“Farm doesn’t look so bad, I think we can run it, don't you think Kook?” Taehyung grins, “We can raise the baby out here without a worry, can even take some horses down to the nearby town when we need to.” He leans down to kiss your neck, “What do you say pretty?..”

Everything hurts—your spine, your back, your feet—you can’t stand it. The baby is bigger and it weighs down on your hips horribly. Some days you pretend it isn’t there but other days are harder given the sheer size of your belly and that thing kicking you.

With an annoyed huff you rip the blankets off of your body and get up with a low pained moan. You support your back with one hand while carefully walking across the wooden floor towards the front door. The cold metal bites into your ankle unforgivingly but you’re used to it already. You thought things would be different here but you guess you were wrong.

“Fuck,” you hiss when the baby kicks you in the rib, “just you fuckin’ wait you little shit,” you mutter while standing on the front porch watching Taehyung and Jungkook tend to the farm around.

Jungkook wipes the sweat off his brow and turns to smile at you, “Something wrong sweetheart?” He calls out.

Taehyung shoots you a grin, “Baby already bothering you pretty?” You want to reply ‘been bothering me’ so bad but you hold your tongue. Taehyung’s eyes drop down to the dress you’re wearing as he whistles lowly, “Well don’t you look pretty?” He smirks as he runs his tongue over his lip.

You find yourself staring at them—one day, you’ll find a way to leave even if you have to fight tooth and nail. You suppose the parasite inside of you can come if it’s not already out yet, or hell maybe you’ll leave it with them who knows.

But one thing is for sure: you were leaving one way or another.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful l @winkii @lifeless-firefly @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

[halloween m.list]

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #kim taehyung

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meltinghun · 4 months

Text

A real gentleman ; Joseph Descamps.

summary: Joseph and Reader never got really along until something changed.

warnings: genderneutral!reader, enemies-to-lovers, idiots in love!!, Y/N mentions lol, just kiss already.

author's note: Hi! I wrote this bc I fell in love with Mixte 1963, and when I looked up for ffs, there were NONE, so I said, 'I'll take one for the team' and came up with this. Please keep in mind that I'm not a writer and english is not my first language, I'll appreciate it if you can point at any errors. <3

The chilly breeze hitted their faces, making them close their eyes momentarealy due to its force, breathing in the smell of wet soil mixed with the freshly made bread from the bakery a few houses down the road.

The day looked very promising; today they woke up a little bit earlier than usual, using the extra time to finish in advance some english homework assigned for the next week and even strarting a big upcomig proyect due to the end of the month, hearing the weatherman in the radio as a background noise, announcing that it was going to be an unusually warm day of autumn.

Everything seemed perfect, the subtle orange hue of the skyes illuminating their face as they walked and the soft rumbling of cars passing by the principal street made them feel like a character of one of those romantic movies they dearly love watching, a thought that felt reinforced when every leave they stepped on made a perfect crunch sound. A soft greeting left their lips when they walked past one of their neighbours who was heading out to work like many other people did at those hours.

It truly felt like a peaceful morning.

'You seem lost in thought. Are you daydreaming about me already?'

Until it wasn't.

They dedicated a slight scowl towards the person who dared to interrupt their peace and inhaled a big breath of air before answering.

'Not even in your greatest dreams, Descamps.' They made a condescending gesture with their hand. 'Now leave me alone, yeah? I was perfectly fine until you came with your annoying presence.'

A booming laugh abandoned his throat. 'Don't act so disinterested. I know you couldn't live without my annoying presence even if you wanted.'

Joseph Descamps. He was a classmate of theirs that took an interesting liking towards their persona, or how they liked to say, a liking towards making their life miserable.

Since the start of the year he took every possibility to annoy them out of their mind, it started with some snark remarks insulting their way of doing certain things and it slowly progressed to petty acts, such as slighty tugging their hair when passing each other, hide their belongings when they aren't looking and even blocking their path by standing in the entryways, smiling down at them while demanding a 'password' that changed every day. Just petty acts meant to be a pain in the head.

He was everything they couldn't stand: a bully with some serious narcissist tendencies who, on top of it all, loved to get a rise out of people by pushing their boundaries and provoking them in any possible way.

But even with that horrendous description, Y/N couldn't avoid that rare feeling at the bottom of their stomach whenever he was close. At first they thought that it was a reflect of how disgusted they truly felt by his persona and the gross acts he usually did, a few weeks later, that feeling was accompannied with their heartbeat increasing when they noticed that he was invading their personal space, but chalked it up as just being nervous of his tall frame hovering them like some sort of prey, that made total sense on their head. However, some days later, he did something that made them realise what they truly felt for the boy with the patch.

It started to rain towards the end of the day, exactly 15 minutes into their english class and the frustration was clearly palpable, it was so unexpected that nobody could've predicted it; what it seemed to be a passing grey cloud turned out to be a massive downpour, Y/N started to complain with their friends about how it was a shame that they chosed to use the new sweater their grandmother knitted for them and how sad it was that now it would get ruined under the relentless rain. When the class was over, they noticed how Joseph went outside the building running and disappeared behind the school gates. They thought it was really weird, but they knew better than to expect something coherent from him. Minutes passed and it seemed like the temporal was getting worse so a few people decided to just suck it up and walk under the cold rain, sighing for themselves and rapidly lamenting once more the lost of the sweater, they prepared to follow the steps of the brave mass of students when a breathless voice interrupted their movements.

'L/N, wait!' A disheveled and completely soaked Joseph made himself seen, his shout drawing attention to the both of them.

'What do you want now, Descamps? I'm already late to home, I don't need you keeping me here any longer than necessary.' They stated with a confused frown, curious as to why was he there but trying to mask it behind indifference.

A smirk made its presence on his sharp features. 'I know, but I couldn't just let you go like that under the rain, that wouldn't be so gentlemanly of me, don't you think?' From behind his back, he pulled a blue umbrella and extended it to a dumbfounded Y/N.

Was that really happening right now? Did the most annoying person they ever met just ran under the rain to bring them an umbrella? And not only that, but he somehow managed to get one with their favorite color, too. Did he just called it to be a mere gentlemanly act?

It might as well start raining cats and dogs.

They opened and closed their mouth, being left without anything to say for the first time, a half-hearthed chuckle interrumping their messy train of thought.

'I heard what you said about your sweater and how sad you would be if it got ruined.' They swore that their heart would get out of their chest for how hard it was beating. 'And I didn't want you to get heartbroken for it, so I thought that you could use one of these.'

He closed the distance that separated them by taking a few steps, reaching out for their free hand and making them hold the umbrella, the contact between their fingertips sparkling a something deep inside each other.

'I know we are supposed to not like each other, but let me be nice to you for once, please.' His eye shining with an intensity they couldn't explain. 'Don't worry, we can keep hating us tomorrow.' When he saw that they wouldn't object, he turned around and began walking outside, getting under the rain once more.

Feeling the heat creeping on their face and having found their voice, they asked out loud.

'How did you know?' His head turned around enough for them to see his face. 'How did you know that it's my favorite color?'

They knew that it could've perfectly been a mere coincidence, something insignificant that shouldn't be overly analized, but something told them that it wasn't like that. They really hoped it wasn't. And it was confirmed when he flashed them another one of his infamous smirks.

'Sometimes I listen to you more than i should.'

Since that very moment it's been really difficult to fight the involuntary smiles that made a way into their face when he unexpectedly tries to integrate them to a conversation by asking their opinion on a subject, or the feeling of warmth that invaded their chest everytime they made visual contact and let's not forget how everytime they both "accidentaly" brush hands Y/N had the extremely rare need to interlock their hands with him.

But after all, he was still Joseph Descamps, the attractive cocky idiot who is always up on some trouble that he himself seeked out.

'...-ou cold?'

They blinked repeatledly with confusion written all over their face, the taller boy smiling down at them for being able to catch them distracted.

'Huh?'

'I asked if you weren't cold.' He repeated the question slower, a soft look on his eye. 'You are shivering'.

If he didn't pointed it out, they wouldn't noticed that, in fact, they were shivering. The chilly air becoming colder than before making them lowly insult the unstable weather of the so-called "unusually warm day", having only a thin cardigan that didn't do much to help.

'It's nothing. The school's a few blocks ahead, and I can take a little bit of cold.' Grumbled under their breath, only to sneeze some moments later.

The boy snorted while shaking his head before swiftly taking off his coat and placing it on their sholders. 'You are not going to catch a cold, or at least not on my company.'

'You are being awfully nice to me lately.' In a slight moment of braveness, they blurted out the question that was tormenting their head. 'Are you flirting with me, Descamps?'

An incredulous look got settled in his face, and they regretted saying it immediately, wishing to come back on time to stop themselves and save them from the embarrassment. Did they read the signals wrong? Was he only trying to become their friend? Was he only being nice? Was he...?

'Yes! Thank you for finally noticing it, I was starting to think that you were cruelly ignoring my advances.' A beautiful and dashing smile was sent in their direction, the biggest they ever saw him smiling.

And it was because of them.

A shaky sigh left their lips accompanied by a nervous laugh, not realizing they were holding their breath, with equally shaky hands coming up their head to accommodate their hair on a jittery action.

'I... I didn't know, really. I had a slight impression, but I thought that I was imagining things.' They cleared their throat in an attempt to regain their cool and collected personality. 'So, when are you taking me on a date then?'

The slight quiver on their voice was noticed by the still very amused boy, who took mental notes on how cute they looked flustered and to try to do it again in the future when given the opportunity.

'Would you accept if I asked you to skip school with me and have a date right now? I don't think I can wait any longer.' He asked with a playful tone, typical of him.

They let out a snort. 'I would tell you that you are crazy if you think that I would do something as risky as that. But lucky for you, I'm free today, so meet me at the cinema at four o'clock.'

'Then I shall see you there.' Replied between soft laughs, not believing that this was really happening. 'Some recommendations for this poor soul?'

The open gates were a few meters ahead of them, the other students that hanged outside throwing curious and shocked looks on their direction when they noticed the much larger coat that lied on Y/N's shoulders and the flustered smiles on their faces.

'Yes, the most important thing, don't you dare being late. If I get there and I don't see you, you can even forget that we know each other.' He brought both hands up in the air in a sign of redemption. 'I'm serious about this. You'll regret it if you do.'

'I wouldn't even dare thinking about it, I'll let Magnan take my other eye before screwing my opportunity with you.'

Their eyes widened at the hidden seriousness of the statement and the simplicity with which he pronounced it, the sincerity of it all making their heart race like crazy. Slowly nodding their head while trying to gather their thoughts.

'Well, it's settled then, at fo-...'

'Four o'clock sharp, I couldn't forget even if I wanted to.' He made a pause, regaining his usual playfulness. 'Should I bring you flowers? I want to be a real gentleman with you.'

'Okay, now you are showing off that you know how to flatter someone, shut up.' Rolling their eyes with a smile, they started walking toward the gates, leaving him behind. 'And I like camellias, for your information.'

'I only wish to flatter you, nobody else!' He said loudly, making people start to whisper about the supposed swear enemies.

'You don't want to know.' Was the only thing they said, accompanied by a slight shrug of shoulders.

Trying to bite back a bigger smile they waved him off, getting closer to their friend group with each step they took, all of them looking the exchange with incredulous eyes, silently begging for an answer as to what just happened.

They never before wished that the day would end up sooner.

#mixte1963 #mixte 1963 #joseph descamps #joseph descamps x reader #vassili schneider #voltaire high #mixte 1963 x reader #enemies to lovers

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cyberels · 27 days

Text

later, loser.ᐟ ᯓ★

˗ˋˏ 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ˎˊ-

☆ ellie discovers the quickest way to get a girl underneath her

daily click! palestine masterpost

☆: sometimes i start writing without a plot in mind to get myself out of a funk and and and this is what i came up w lol so sorry if it’s doodoo ass

☆ warnings -> mention of blood, injuries, all that good shit that comes with skateboarding, probably really inaccurate skating talk, drugs, tbh probably really bad writing but bare with me here, no concept of stranger danger from reader when she sees a hot girl (ellie) for plot reasons lol

☆ skaterboarder!ellie yayyy she wears glasses because i said so &&&&& also ellie works at a vinyl shop and reader works at a bakery :)

☆ ☆ ellies playlist! ☆ ☆

u don’t have to listen but i made it to listen while i write and i thought it’d be fun to add

my masterlist

ellie was no stranger to making mistakes, she’s human, it happens… however, she usually doesn’t make this many stupid choices within the span of one single hour.

today, ellie was running late.

mistake number one.

she practically flew out of the door and hopped on her board, mumbling a half assed apology to her neighbor who she accidentally shoulder checked on her way out as she put on her headphones.

she’s probably going way too fast but she’s been skateboarding for years, she can handle it. she still has the penny boards that she started skating on when she was 12 hanging up in her living room, right beside some of her other boards she’s had since then that she’s either destroyed or replaced. she weaved in and out of the people walking practically effortlessly, not caring if she was pissing anyone off, they’d live. she’d never have to see them again, anyways.

she opened her phone to turn on her music.

you, on the other hand, were taking your time; you had a good while until you had to be at work. you’ve created a habit of looking for ladybugs in the bushes outside your apartment complex after you noticed that the plant is home to many of the little insects. usually you just glance at the plant as you pass by, but today, you fully stopped to look.

unfortunately, you were unaware of ellie being just feet away from you.

guess you’re no stranger to mistakes, either.

granted, ellie would have had enough time to stop… if she was paying attention.

which she was not.

mistake number two.

you hear a string of curse words behind. you barely manage to turn around before you’re pushed into the bushes by a girl who promptly lands on top of you. her skateboard rolled away pathetically. it’s almost like it was embarrassed, too.

if there had been any ladybugs, they were definitely squashed now.

you open your eyes slowly to find the other girl hovering just above you. her necklace dangles temptingly close to your lips as she pushes herself up. she's still on top of you, her face just inches away from yours. she blinks a few times, slowly taking in the situation. she seems lost in thought, the wheels in her head turning painstakingly slowly as she tries to comprehend what's happening and her part in it.

she’s taking way too long to get off of you, though, which only serves to frustrate you more.

“hellooo? can you get up?” you mumble through gritted teeth to the girl above you, turning your head to the side to avoid her gaze.

in hindsight, you probably should’ve asked if she was okay, but right now all you wanted to do was get up and pretend like this never happened.

you don’t even want to know how many people saw you fall.

“oh— oh fuck.” ellie stuttered, taking one last glance at you before she moved herself onto the sidewalk, not finding the strength to stand up fully just yet.

she grabbed her headphones that had been flung off in the impact. small scrapes lined the side of them, but at least they probably still worked. she put them around her neck, letting her head fall back in her hands. she took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on her emotions and the situation.

you sigh as you get up, and ellie can tell you’re mad based solely on how the exhale of air sounded.

“uh… you good?” you ask after an uncomfortable pause, eyeing the other girl. it was obvious you didn’t really care, but at least you tried to be polite.

you were still taking your time collecting yourself, brushing leaves out of your hair and wiping blood from your hands onto your jeans (thank god you wore black jeans today). you were definitely going to be sore tomorrow, but other than your scraped up hands, you were fine.

just really pissed off.

ellie looked up at you and then immediately looked back down, running her hands over her face once more. “yeah, i’m… good.”

you roll your eyes as you hold your hand (the one with the least amount of scrapes) out towards ellie, offering to pull her up. you can't help but feel pity as she sits on the sidewalk. not in a sympathizing way, but more of a "damn, this girl looks pathetic" way. she hesitates for a second, but then grabs your hand and smiles weakly.

“thanks.”

as much as you know that this situation partially is your fault, you’re still annoyed. you had spent so long getting ready today just to have some idiot push you into dirt.

when you speak again, your words come out harsher than you intended… not that you minded. “yeah. watch where you’re fucking going next time.”

ouch.

okay, maybe (keyword: maybe) ellie had caused the worst part of this, but she wasn’t going to sit here and take you blatantly being rude when you’re just as much to blame as she is. “maybe if you didn’t think you owned the sidewalk, i wouldn't have ran into you.”

you reach down beside you and grab her, now shattered, phone and her (also shattered) glasses. you raise your eyebrows as you look over the broken screen.

“maybe if you were paying attention.” you pause, wiggling the phone in front of her face. “you would’ve realized i stopped walking.”

she snatched her things back, she didn’t have a comeback for that.

her phone was fucked… usable, but the screen was shattered so badly that if she scrolled on it she’d probably slice open her thumb. small price to pay, she figures.

it’s not like she’s gonna buy a new one… but she would have to cough up the money for new glasses, though. damn it.

“why the hell did you stop walking anyways?”

you hesitate, looking back at the bush sheepishly, vaguely gesturing towards it as you speak again. “i— not that it’s any of your business— i wanted to see if there were any ladybugs on the leaves.”

“…oh.”

well now ellie just feels like a dickhead, because that’s actually really cute. that was not the answer she was expecting.

you continue looking away and ellie sighs, attempting to push past you to grab her skateboard.

mistake number three.

the second she takes a step, she falls into you again, her ankle completely giving out underneath her. you catch her, your arms wrapping around her hips as you hold her up.

ellie has never wanted to die more than she did at this moment.

her face was literally sandwiched in between your chest. she pushed herself back, hopping slightly.

what the fuck just happened?

“oh my fucking god. i’m so sorry. i– oh fuck, this is so awkward.”

yeah, awkward was one word for it. you stare at her blankly for a moment before you kick her skateboard towards her.

you could feel her touch lingering on your body like she was still there. if your hands were just a little lower you would’ve…

“its– it’s fine. dude, are you sure you’re alright?”

you sound more like you care this time, at least.

not that you do care, or anything,

just trying to make sure she wasn’t seriously hurt.

that’s all.

“i’m fine.” it was an obvious lie, but she was preoccupied with thinking about how she was going to skate to and from work if she could barely walk… she’d have to deal with it, she decided. there wasn’t any other option for her right now, she was already late.. “i’ll be fine.”

“very convincing.” you reply, looking her up and down. “you’re not seriously about to get on that thing again, are you?”

“not that it’s any of your business, but i don’t have any other choice, i’m gonna be late to work and this is all i have to get me there.”

you narrow your eyes at her.

no way this girl was reckless and stupid.

“what? you can’t be serious… you’re still going to work? are you an idiot?”

ellie doesn't answer right away, glancing down at her skateboard for a bit. you’re right, she should call out, but she hated the prospect of missing a day of work. money had been tight, even one missed day would be hell for her and her bank account.

“you gonna give me the money i’d lose if i called out?”

you opened your mouth to reply, but she was already flying past you, very clearly having a hard time but also very clearly not caring.

“don’t stop in the middle of the sidewalk next time, dumbass!” she yelled, leaving you standing in the same spot just watching her leave.

…and kinda wishing she’d come back.

just so you could get the last word.

when you walk into work, it’s unfortunately obvious that you’re pissed off, if the way your manager immediately asks what happened as soon as you clocked in was anything to go by.

you’re thankful for the excuse to rant, though.

“god, abby, where do i even start? i literally just walked out of my apartment and some girl on a skateboard slammed into me and we both went flying into a stupid plant. got a face full of bush and not even the good kind.”

“jesus,” abby laughed, picking a leaf out of your hair. “was she hot?”

“was she hot? is that seriously all you’re gonna say?”

“...well?”

“i hate you so much… but yeah, she was.” you admit, defeat obvious in your tone. you’re well aware that this would’ve been a lot easier for you if you didn’t find the dumb skater attractive. you’d been close enough to her face to see every detail… her freckles, her eyes, her lips— damn it. you couldn’t get her out of your head.

this felt like a sick joke.

abby clapped her hands together. “this isn’t a completely bad thing! did you get her number?”

“no, abby, i didn’t get her number. i was too busy trying to get her away from me because she was stupid and annoying.”

“you’re no fun, could’ve got yourself a skater girl.” she frowned. “are you okay though?”

“you should’ve led with that question, you know?” you huff, looking at the scrapes on your palms again. “i’m fine.”

“yeah, yeah. i should’ve.” abby tosses a pastry towards you. “here, for your troubles, on the house. go sit down in the break room for a little bit, you look like a mess.”

“gonna ignore the last part. thanks, abs.”

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

“jesus fucking christ.” ellie mumbled to herself, hopping off her board before she opened the door to the small vinyl store she worked at.

“late again, williams— oh. oh wow. you look like shit.” austin, the owner of the shop spoke, nudging ellie as she walked by. he was wearing a stupid smirk on his face which made ellie more aggravated.

asshole.

“real nice.” ellie grumbled, putting up her skateboard and backpack. “sorry for being late, won’t happen again, i just— some people are so stupid, you know?”

“by ‘some people’ do you mean you?” he laughed, spinning on his chair. he mocked the way ellie spoke, doing a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like her.

god, he was a 30 year old man-child, but he pays her… so… whatever. she’ll deal.

“ha-ha. good one.”

“ya gonna tell me what happened or are ya gonna leave me guessin’?”

“what happened is people don’t know how to walk anymore.” she scoffed, taking stock of the money she had to count before putting it in the drawer. “so fucking stupid.”

“by the looks of it you don’t know how to walk anymore, either. you gonna be able to work? i’m not payin’ ya to sit around, so if i need to call someone else in…”

she glared at him, trying to see if he’d explode if she stared hard enough.

he was right though, unfortunately, ellie was walking like she had just learned how to. it wasn’t the worst injury she’s ever got from skateboarding, but it was definitely inconvenient.

“yeah, i’ll be fine.” ellie snapped, shifting her weight to her good foot to avoid making her injury any worse. “jesus christ, it’s a twisted ankle. i’m not missing a limb.”

“but—“

“drop it.”

he put his hands up in mock surrender, the smirk still on his face. “oooookay, okay. whatever you say williams. you were still late though, let’s go back to talkin’ about that. what’s the count at now? is this the fifth or sixth time this month?”

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. shit’s hard when you don’t have a car.” ellie sighed, punching in the numbers on her register. “i’ll do better. today was not my fault, though.”

“am i gonna have to be more strict with you? everyone else shows up on time, you know?”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.” ellie rolled her eyes, trying to focus on work and push the pain out of her mind. “everyone else has a car.”

ellie really did not like austin. his whole holier-than-thou attitude irked her to no end.

still, it beat being jobless, so she knew she shouldn’t complain.

“don’t let it happen again.”

“i won’t, i swear. i’m really sorry.”

“right, okay, i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, you alright out here?”

she bit her tongue, holding back a groan.

austin ‘going to the bathroom’ was his way of saying that he’s gonna get really fucking stoned and then sit around and do nothing all day. this was a daily occurrence, at this rate.

“yeah, yeah, i’m good.” ellie mumbled, shoving away the annoyance she felt when he walked past her.

austin was a dickhead, but he was never outright mean, not really. he just… he thought he was better than everyone. a classic ego-centric prick.

as much as she hated him, she did like having a job— and being able to afford a place to sleep at night.

“ohhh, ellie, i gave you more shifts, like you asked.” he said before he walked out, smiling at her. “take a look at the schedule when ya get the chance.”

he has to be kidding.

she’s been begging for more shifts since god knows how long ago, and he decides to give her more now? when she doesn’t even know how she’s gonna be able to make it to work?

amazing. just what she wanted!

“great.” ellie muttered, shooting him a glare even though he was already gone. “more hours that i don’t know how the hell i’m gonna get to.”

she shook her head, austin wasn’t worth getting this pissed about— especially when he did try to do what she asked.

the store was never busy in the morning, so she sat in austins chair, finally taking a second to herself. she went over her options on how this was going to go.

she could have asked dina for a ride, if dina wasn’t off on some work trip about three hours away for the next two weeks, taking her and jesses shared car with her.

terrible timing.

she’d take public transportation if it was reliable and also if she didn’t have a few bad experiences with it already.

that wasn’t really a good option.

uber was definitely not an option. she already was going to have to buy new glasses and eventually pay for her phone to get fixed, she wasn’t about to drop $50 a day on ride.

she was screwed.

nothing was working out for her right now— the universe was laughing at her, just like it always did.

she wanted to kick and scream, but that wouldn’t help anything, plus she wouldn’t be able to kick very well right now.

oh well… she’d be fine, she’d just have to push through it.

her phone buzzed in her pocket and she winced when she seen the cracked screen again, it was so wrecked that it barely let her type in her password.

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

was ellie stupid for agreeing to go out of her way when she was already struggling to walk? yes.

does she care? no.

jesse was a good guy, he’s done a shit ton of favors for her, so this was the least she could do.

she’d never been to the bakery, but she always smelled it when she’d pass by, and it always looked like it’d be good. she did deserve a little treat after the day she had, anyways.

thank you jesse and jesse’s money.

when ellies shift is over, she feels so much worse than she did earlier, and austin repeating that ellie looked like shit over and over again wasn’t helping.

ugh.

“you’re a wreck, williams—“

“—goodbye austin, byeee. i’m leaving, out the door, shifts over. see you tomorrow.” she slammed the door shut, letting out a frustrated sigh as she got on her board again. “god. fuck off.”

the bakery wasn’t far, it was literally right across the street, but it felt like it was miles away to ellie. she leaned on the wall for a second to catch her breath before she walked inside.

it was a cute shop, one of those places you see on pinterest or instagram, with the led light signs and fake plants, it was actually really nice. she doesn’t know why she never came here before.

“let me know if i can help… oh god. it’s you.”

she looks over at you and she starts to wish the fall had just killed her on impact.

“please… pretend like this morning didn’t happen. i don’t want to deal with arguing right now.” ellie sighs, not giving you time to reply to her before she goes into saying her order.

she looked at your name tag as she paid, she could barely see what it said, her eyes squinting slightly as she tried to make out your name.

you scribbled little smiley faces and stars around your name, which was cuter than ellie would like to admit.

“go sit, i’ll bring your stuff to you after i box them, ‘kay?”

“i can wait here.“

“sit.”

“fine.”

she sat at one of the booths, attempting to use her phone without losing a finger. she wasn’t even paying attention to the content, just scrolling mindlessly as the memories of this morning replayed in her mind over and over again.

she was hoping to never see you again.

maybe coming here was a mistake.

“here.” you say after a few moments, placing the boxes on the table. “enjoy.”

you were being kind, but she could read behind the curtness of your tone.

you thought she was dumb. she could always tell by the way you talked to her; that look of disdain on your face.

“thanks.” she said, and then the silence took over again. it was obvious that neither of them wanted to start another conversation after the way the last one ended.

ellie couldn’t help but notice how just scraped up your hands were. you had bandages on them, but the blood that seeped through was bright red, like it was demanding to be looked at.

demanding ellie to feel bad for what she did.

damn it, she really should’ve just paid attention this morning.

would’ve saved her a lot of trouble.

she got up, sucking her teeth and hissing as she shifted her weight. she leaned on the table for balance as a few curse words left her mouth.

“god, you’re the dumbest person i’ve ever met.” you declared, confirming her suspicions.

she scoffed, trying to shake the pain away from her ankle.

man, this sucked.

“shut the hell up.” ellie snapped. “you don’t have to be so snarky, you know? i’m already dealing with the consequences of my shitty morning, you can drop the whole, ‘i’m better than you’ bullshit. if you listened earlier, you’d have known i said that i have no other choice.”

“i did listen, idiot. i don’t mean to sound like i’m trying to be better than you, okay? i’m sorry. but you seriously don’t have anyone that can help you out? do you have friends?”

“i have friends, asshole. they’re just either busy or i don’t want to inconvenience them. what’s it matter to you anyways?”

you don’t really have an answer, you’re not sure why it matters. maybe it’s because ellie looked really miserable, or maybe it’s because it had been partially your fault that she’s hurt… or maybe both. but you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt about the situation she was in.

“i have a car.”

ellie paused, looking up at you. she wasn’t sure if she heard you correctly, or if this was just some weird, shitty joke.

“okay? congratulations?”

“don’t make me spell it out.” you reply, annoyance clear in your tone. “i’m saying, you’re obviously hurt, and it’s kinda my fault, so… if you needed a ride…”

“no.”

“don’t be stubborn. look, i get it, we’re not on the best terms right now, but i can’t just let you go like this without at least offering, y’know? plus, you seem like you could use the help.”

ellie’s mind was screaming at her to accept— it was logical. you offered a ride, she needs a ride, she should accept your offer.

“i could be a serial killer for all you know. you don’t even know my name.”

“yeah, okay. you? a serial killer? i’d just run away. not like you’d be able to chase after me.”

“hey, i can run pretty damn fast, you know?” ellie hissed. if she wanted, she could definitely chase you down… but she’d rather not do that at the moment. that was probably not a great idea. “hell, i could be an axe murderer.”

“what’s your name?”

“huh?”

“are you dumb?”

“…it’s ellie.”

“‘kay, ellie, now i know your name and if you’re observant— which i doubt but i’m gonna play devils advocate— you know mine. nice to meet you. now we know each other. i’m not gonna sit here and play 21 questions, do you want me to take you to your place or not?”

“what if you kill me anyways?” she asked, she was kidding, she just wanted to piss you off.

“i am not gonna fucking— you know what, you’re annoying. never mind.”

“wait. i’m sorry.”

fuck.

maybe this whole thing about you wasn’t so bad. you were just— abrasive.

she swallowed, forcing herself to stay calm. “i’ll take a ride.”

“what’s the magic word?”

“die.” ellie hissed. “you’re not funny.”

“almost! that’s four words. do you want a hint?”

ellie stared at you blankly for a few seconds before answering. “i am not saying please.”

“you just said it.” you grinned. “look, i get off at 6:30, that’s like… 20 minutes from now, if you don’t mind waiting. i’ll come get you when i’m off, sound good?”

“yeah. that sounds good.”

this is such a bad idea.

#max writes ☆#btw #ladybugs symbolize positive change #and luck #will make a part 2 eventually maybe i’ll actually finish this series #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #wlw #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x f!reader #sorry i know jesses ooc but i rewrote it like 10492 times i can’t get it to sound good

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bennitastisch · 2 years

Text

me, when i give too many fucks: oh shit oh fuck im too scared of fucking up so i just do nothing

me, when i dont give that many fucks abt smth: yea ill just ask no big deal ill set boundaries and shit who cares if i did a little thing wrong at least i did smth :)

#this is abt how stupid i am #bc if i care too much i just get so overwhelmed #like this job i applied for in a bakery #i dint care abt it too much #its part time (germans will know the 450€ job lol)#and i just ask the boss if i wanna know stuff and clearly state when i can and cant come in #when i say i cant be reached before a specific time and he texts me before then i will wait until the time i stated id be available at #and dont immediately respond #or when i started dating my bf #it was easier for me to set boundaries and talk abt stuff than it is now #bc now i know i like him a whole lot and dont wanna lose him bc i do smth stupid #so i just get anxious instead #ben vents #ben talks #bennitastisch

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cupid-styles · 5 months

Text

silk and rope 3

the final part of ddlg harry and little/submissive y/n!!!!

in which harry is a dummy, y/n gets a little too drunk, and thanksgiving is finally good for something.

word count: 8k

content warnings: daddy dom and little/submissive relationship, alcohol, a little bit of angst, SMUT!!! (anal play, squirting, dirty talk, breeding kink, public sub drop, public play if you squint, dumbification, tiny bit of pet play.. if I missed something pls lmk lol). as stated in the first two parts, I tried to make this as accurate as possible but there are likely some things that aren't correct!! im just a girl and im sorry if something isn't portrayed right!!!!!!

thank you for reading and loving these two, while this is the last formal part of their story I will definitely be writing check-ins and blurbs for them in the future!!! enjoy :)

masterlist | talk to me

part one | part two

. . .

It doesn't take Y/N very long to realize Harry's acting weird.

Well, maybe not weird, but different. He's acting differently than he has been for the past two months, and it's giving her a bit of whiplash. She notices that it started the day after she slipped when he dropped her off at home, when he latched a collar around her neck.

Her memory of that day is a little bit hazy; the events are more so glued together in blurry snapshots of pleasure and lust, but she does know that she had fallen into her little space while he was gone. He'd punished her for the whole butt plug incident, fucked her into oblivion, and then soaked in the tub with her before falling asleep next to her.

And really, it wasn't that different from their usual scenes. The dynamic was the same, as far as Y/N can remember, it may have just been a little bit more intense.

So why is Harry acting like this?

Instead of stopping by nearly every day to make sure she's eaten and rested, he'll just text her. If she hasn't eaten lunch or dinner yet, he'll order her food to her house instead of bringing her a homemade meal or stopping somewhere on the way. When he does come over, it seems like he's always in a hurry to leave — yesterday, he picked her up from a closing shift at the bakery and barely spoke to her in the car. He came inside, quickly cooked her a dinner, and left before she'd even finished eating, mumbling out some excuse about having to feed his sister's cat.

Worst of all, they haven't slept together in a week.

It's all overwhelming for Y/N, but this time, it's in the worst way possible. She feels incredibly down as the days go on, and she spirals and wonders what she did wrong to make him act this way. She can feel the breakup coming from a mile away, but she assumes that because it's Harry, he'll bake her a cake and buy her a kitten just because he doesn't want to be too mean about it.

She hates to admit it, but she's grown attached to Harry. And she really, really doesn't want to let him go.

It's what led her to asking Naomi to grab lunch on her day off. Naomi hasn't reached out too much lately so it's been awhile since they'd seen one another, but she's known Harry far longer than she has.

(And yeah, Y/N feels kind of shitty about making plans with Naomi only to ask about Harry, but she has a nagging feeling that she's only kept her around because she feels bad she doesn't have friends outside of them.)

"I'm sorry, you and Harry are what?"

(She supposes she should have expected this type of response.)

"We're sleeping together," Y/N answers in a pathetic attempt to sound casual, keeping her eyes glued to the turkey sandwich on her plate, "But he's been acting kind of off lately, and I wasn't sure if you guys knew something I didn't."

"Well no one knew that," Naomi mutters, stabbing her fork into her salad and stuffing some lettuce into her mouth. "But to address your concerns, no, I don't know anything. Harry's notoriously private about his love life."

She clears her throat and nods. "I think he's gonna end things soon."

"Hmm, yeah," Naomi hums through a mouthful of food, "I don't think he does the whole friends with benefits thing. Lea tried once and he rejected her, it was kind of a mess. She couldn't stand to be in a room with him for like, two months."

"We're not sleeping with other people," Y/N quickly adds. "It's sort of an exclusive arrangement."

Still, Naomi shrugs her shoulders, and it doesn't soothe any of Y/N's worries.

"He may have told you that, but I honestly doubt it, babe. I'm sorry he broke your heart. He can be kind of an asshole in that way."

If anything, Y/N feels even worse now. The gears in her brain are turning too fast and she's starting to feel nauseous, putting the puzzle pieces together and envisioning what her life will be like without Harry after she's gotten so used to him taking care of her.

"Anyway, Bria is having a party this weekend," Naomi says, breaking her out of his spiraling thoughts, "You should come. It'll get your mind off things and you can find someone new to fuck."

She winces at her crude terminology, not because she's offended by it but because she thinks what she and Harry are doing is more than just fucking.

Aren't they?

Forcing down a sip of her Diet Coke, Y/N nods. "Yeah, I'll be there."

. . .

From: H

Can I come over tonight?

Y/N bites her lip as she reads Harry's text for the fourth time. Since getting home from lunch with Naomi, she's been stewing in a series of emotions: First, sadness, followed by frustration and anger, then sadness again, then acceptance. She's managed to occupy herself with some re-runs of Jeopardy, even if it reminds her of him.

She doesn't know what the right thing to do is. What if he wants to come over because he's ready to end things? She supposes she's just putting off the inevitable, but she's been broken up with enough times and she knows how much more painful this one will be. She's not prepared for that, even if she wants to be.

Sighing, she finally makes a decision, tapping her thumbs quickly against the screen.

Y/N: hey sorry i can't do tonight. think im coming down w something, i don't feel that well

H: Do you need anything? I can bring soup and medicine, whatever you need.

Y/N: no im ok, thank you tho

H: Let me know if you think of anything.

H: Maybe later this week if you're feeling better?

Y/N: yea maybe

Tears are already clouding her vision as she locks her phone and tosses it across her couch. Desperately, she wonders why the guy she's fallen for just can't like her back.

. . .

Harry knows he's fucking up.

He wants to smack himself across the face and tell himself to pull it together, but he can't. Every single cell and bone in his body is begging him to go over to Y/N's house and make it all better, and instead, he just sits on the couch, replaying those words over in his brain. Her swollen parted lips and eyes fluttered closed, the way it sounded so effortless falling from her mouth. I love you.

He wanted to say it back. But that wasn't part of the arrangement.

She wanted someone to dominate her, to take care of her. Who would be if he took advantage of something she said after nearly two hours of play, when she'd been in her little space all day? It wasn't something he felt morally right about, but he knows he wasn't being any better. He couldn't hold himself to high standards when he was pushing her away.

It's why he's so down and out on Saturday night. Normally, he'd be snuggled up with Y/N, watching some movie or TV show, usually after or before an intense scene. Sometimes it served as a precursor to foreplay with the way he'd stroke over her thighs and play with her hair, watching as she became increasingly restless. Other times, it's what they did to unwind, a form of aftercare for both parties.

But tonight, he's not doing that. He's at home alone, confused, because Bria just texted him that she's having a party tonight and everyone's there — including Y/N.

He doesn't like that she singles her out like that. He knows that some of the girls in the group don't particularly like her because she's quiet and shy and rather reserved about her personal life. (He understands why she's that way now.) He doesn't even think Naomi is a good friend to her, but he would never go out of his way to tell her that — ultimately, she's capable of making her own decisions. However, she'd sent him some excuse about not being able to hang out a few days ago, claiming that she was sick and yet, tonight she was at a party?

Harry couldn't live with that.

So he fires off a text to Bria, telling her that he'll be there soon, dressing quickly and throwing himself together. When he's driving over to Bria's place, he makes a mental promise to himself, pledging that as long as Y/N doesn't hate him, he won't return home without her.

. . .

Y/N is drunk, and she hates being drunk.

The last time she consumed a fraction of this amount of alcohol was the night she spilled her guts to Harry. Tonight, she's downed every shot that's been passed her way. She's not sure what she's looking to achieve — she doesn't want to go home with anyway and the only person she really wants to be with is Harry — and it makes her sad. So, so helplessly sad.

Despite being deep underwater, Y/N is cognizant enough to know that no one at this party really cares for her wellbeing. They were eager to get her drunk, but once she started swaying on her feet with hazy eyes, they stopped caring. Games of beer pong and flip cup were ongoing as she sat in the kitchen, propped up on the counter with her head against the cabinets.

She feels so stupid, it makes her want to cry.

. . .

Harry attempts to play it cool when he arrives at Bria's house.

Everyone welcomes him, excited that he made it, but they have no idea that his presence has nothing to do with wanting to party. He's here for the girl who begs him to snap a collar around her neck and push a plug into her ass. The girl he happens to be very in love with.

Naomi bats her eyelashes at him and hands him a glass of wine; an attempt to schmooze him when she tells him she picked out this bottle just for him. He smiles politely.

"Have you seen Y/N? Bria mentioned she was here."

Naomi's eyebrows raise, a defensive look crossing onto her face. "Why are you looking for her?"

"We just need to talk about something," he replies dismissively, uninterested in revealing any details to her, "So, is she here? Or did she leave already?"

She crosses her arms over her chest. "She got pretty fucked up when she got here. She's kind of a mess, y'know? I don't even know if she's here or not."

"What do you mean?" Harry asks, concern and worry bubbling in his stomach, "She doesn't like to drink."

"Well, she sure liked all the shots everyone was giving her."

He closes his hands into tight fists, stunned at how careless these people could be. He couldn't believe he considered them friends at a certain point.

"Where did you see her last?" he eventually questions, pushing past the anger growing in his chest.

Naomi thinks for a moment. "I think Ren may have passed her in the kitchen. Not sure, though."

She's apparently finished with this conversation, clearly annoyed that she didn't get what she wants (Harry knows she's been trying to recreate that one night they made out years ago, but he's never been especially interested). He huffs and pushes past everyone else standing around in the living room, ignoring anyone who tries to start a conversation. When he walks into the kitchen, his eyes immediately find her defeated posture, her shoulders slumped over with eyes half-shut.

"Y/N," he says, rushing over to her. He's not sure if she's even conscious, so he gently pats at her cheek. "Baby, are you alright?"

Her eyes flutter open, a look of confusion immediately taking over. "Harry?"

"Are you okay, Y/N? What happened?"

"Nothing," she mumbles through red-stained lips, "Why're you here?"

She's slurring her words and he swallows harshly, taking in her rough composure. She looks so tired and it breaks his heart to think that he could have caused this.

"Heard you were here and I wanted to make sure you were okay." he murmurs out, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, "Are you having a fun time?"

He already knows the answer when she shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowed. "No. Hate being drunk."

"I know, baby," Harry coos, "Would you be okay with me taking you home? Get you all cozy in your bed?"

If she's angry with him, her level of drunkenness has made her forget about those feelings because she nods, making grabby hands at him. He chuckles and helps her down from the countertop, immediately wrapping a supportive arm around her waist.

"My car's just parked outside. Do you think you can make it there?"

"Mhm."

With a gentle smile on his lips, he tugs her out of the kitchen and guides her to the front door. He can feel eyes on them and he assumes Naomi is likely leading the pack, but he doesn't care. Frankly, he's fine if this is the last time he sees most of these people — he doesn't think he wants to continue friendships with anyone who'd want to hurt Y/N.

She's quiet as he helps her into the car, buckling her seatbelt for her and closing the passenger side door once she's safe. He's quick to do the same for himself, churning the ignition and flicking the heat on to shield her from the chilly autumn air.

"Do you feel sick at all?" Harry asks as he pulls out of his parking spot. She shakes her head. "Okay, lemme know if that changes, lovebug."

They don't exchange any more words on the way to Y/N's place. Once he's parked, he turns to look over, only to find her slumped in her seat with closed eyes, steady puffs of air coming from her nose. His heart twitches — he wishes they were coming home from a date or something romantic, but he's reminded quite quickly of her drunken state.

He leaves her in the car for a moment to use his spare key to unlock her front door. When he returns, he gently scoops her body up and out of the car. Her eyes flicker open and he hushes her, kicking the door closed.

"Can walk," she mutters out, and he nods, letting her down once they're safely in her home.

"I didn't wanna wake you up, that's all."

Y/N shrugs and kicks her shoes off, though she loses her balance and sways, Harry quickly coming to her side to steady her by the elbow.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

He looks down at the doe-eyed girl in front of him, sniffling as the words float from her lips. His stomach flutters with anxiety as he watches her eyes get watery, immediately using his thumb to wipe away the moisture from spilling over.

"Why would you ask that?" he murmurs, placing a hand to her hip.

"You don't like me," Y/N answers matter-of-factly. "And you've been avoiding me."

He sighs. He knows this isn't the right time to talk things through, especially because she's only saying these things given her swimming mindset. He hates that her mind even floated to such places, but if he's being honest, he isn't surprised — he thinks he would assume similarly if their roles were swapped.

"Can we talk about this in the morning?" Harry asks softly.

She shrugs her shoulders, letting her gaze fall to her feet. "You can just do it now. I don't wanna remember anything you have to say if that's the case."

"Y/N, stop it," he says with a shake of his head, attempting to guide her up the stairs. He's slightly impressed that despite her wobbly legs, she stays put. "I'm not ending things."

"Why wouldn't you?" she fires back, looking back up at him with a defiant look in her eyes, "You promised me you'd take care of me and— and for the past week or so, you've done anything but. You've just stressed me out and made me feel bad."

Harry swallows as guilt begins to crawl its way back up his spine. He knows she's right. She has every right to be upset.

"I know," he mumbles, nodding his head, "I know. I haven't been a good dominant. I'm sorry."

"That's a shit excuse. I've heard that so many times before from guys who didn't treat me right from the start. You're different, Harry."

"Y/N..." he's getting frustrated now, disgruntled by how stubborn she apparently gets when she's drunk, "You're right about everything, but this isn't the time to talk this through. I want to do it when you're sober."

She rolls her eyes and if things were normal, Harry knows he would've grabbed her by the hips and leaned her over the steps to spank her. Instead, he lets out a breath and nudges her in the direction of her bedroom.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed."

Y/N's protests cease after that and Harry's secretly grateful for it. She's sobered up enough to take her makeup off and change into her pajamas as he fetches her a glass of water and some Advil to take. He places them on her nightstand as she crawls into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

"Your apartment's still freezing," he murmurs, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "I'll call a repair guy tomorrow."

"Are you staying then?" she asks softly, letting her eyes close the second she smushes her cheek into the pillow.

"I will if you'd like me to."

"Okay," she mumbles, "I hope you don't break up with me tomorrow."

He lets out what feels like the thousandth sigh that evening. "Stop saying that. I'm not going to."

Y/N simply shrugs.

. . .

The next morning, Y/N wakes up with a throbbing headache. Before she even opens her eyes, she can feel embarrassment warming every cell of her body, but she can't place a finger on why. She knows something happened last night but things get a little... blurry at a certain point; her last solid memory taking shots with Naomi and Lea. From there, she has a small inkling of what happened, mainly just recalling her sitting in the kitchen by herself when she started feeling woozy and tired.

When she finally blinks her mascara-crusted eyes open (she thought she took her makeup off last night, but maybe she did a shit job of it), she nearly jumps when she realizes there's someone laying next to her.

That someone being Harry.

He has his reading glasses on and he's scrolling on his phone. Through squinted eyes, she reads the words heat repair guy best ratings in his Google search. When he realizes that she's awake, he locks his phone and clears his throat.

"Hey," he says, licking his lips, "How are you feeling?"

"Confused," she croaks out, lifting her head slightly to look up at him, only to be met with a pounding ache in her temples.

"Here, be careful," he mumbles, leaning over to his side to grab something from the nightstand. He hands here two pieces of toast and two Advil. "You should eat this before you take anything. You were pretty wasted last night, I figured your hangover would be rough."

She hums in appreciation and takes a bite of the toast, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. "What are you doing here?"

He's not surprised that the details are hazy for her, so he flips onto his side to face her. "Bria told me about the party and mentioned you were there. I wanted to see you so I went, but you were, um, drunk and... by yourself. I took you home, that's all."

"Hm," Y/N nods, "Yeah, I remember getting drunk with everyone. I don't remember you being there except for us arguing here."

"We didn't really argue. You were just being... stubborn."

"About what?"

Harry sighs. "You wanted to talk about the state of our relationship and were convinced I was going to break up with you."

A beat. And then, "Oh."

"That was never my plan, by the way," he replies, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers, "I was never going to end things."

She shrugs her shoulders and places her empty plate on the floor, tossing back the Advil.

"I know I haven't been the best to you lately. I've been having a hard time trying to figure out how to approach things."

"Approach what?" she bites, laying back down. "I— all I know is that one day things were fine, and the next they weren't. You weren't being the same and I didn't know what I did wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he shakes his head, "Just... you said something. When you were in your little space."

"I say a lot of things when I'm in my little space."

"Yeah, but this was... like, different."

"How, different?"

"More serious, I guess."

"Harry," she huffs, fisting the comforter in her hands, "I can't guess something I said when I wasn't being myself."

"You told you love me."

Y/N's head whips to the side and she immediately winces, shutting her eyes. He cringes and reaches out to touch her temples, gently applying a bit of pressure and rubbing them. It's silent for a moment as he massages her head.

"I'm sorry," she eventually mumbles, "You were probably freaked out. I'm sure I didn't mean to say it."

"Don't be sorry. I would never hold your emotions against you."

Still, she wants to hide her face in the blankets. She's embarrassed, that much is obvious. She doesn't even know if she actually loves Harry; a lot things come out when she's in her little space, some of which she means and some of which she doesn't. She supposes it's fair that he seems so freaked over it.

"I wish you told me sooner. I could've... explained myself. Maybe."

"Explained yourself?"

Y/N shrugs and lays back against the pillows. Harry follows her lead, tilting his neck so he can look at her.

"I can't say for certain that I love you or not, I've never been in love," she explains quietly, feeling her cheeks warm at the unexpected vulnerability spilling out of her, "Don't you think you could say things when you're dominating me that you don't necessarily mean? You degrade me sometimes and I know those things aren't true."

Harry thinks for a moment, pinching his lip between his fingers. "I guess, yeah."

"I would tell if you if I knew for sure, Harry. But I don't."

He nods and rolls onto his back. He doesn't know why but he feels... sad? Let down, maybe? He'd been under the impression that she loved him and, well... maybe he was okay with that.

"I'm sorry." she repeats softly. He shakes his head and reaches out for her hand, grasping it gently and giving it a small squeeze.

"Don't be. It was stupid. I overreacted."

"Thank you for rescuing me last night," Y/N murmurs, squeezing his hand back.

He pushes down the feelings of disappointment and forces a small smile on his lips.

"Anytime."

. . .

Harry tries to go back to normal after that.

He stops being so avoidant, which makes a big difference. He and Y/N are back to their near-daily hangouts, and it's easy to fall back into the routine they established before any of this happened. They're even having sex again, with Y/N readily falling into her little space every time he ties her to the bed, overstimulates her until she's crying, and fucks her open with his cock until he comes deep inside her. They never use condoms anymore, either, and the added layer of intimacy only contributes to what Harry realize shortly after that morning in Y/N's bed: he's in love with her.

He guesses he's known it for awhile, he just didn't want to admit it to himself. But when she explained why she said it, he felt so bummed that it only made sense. He'd wanted her to love him.

But Y/N is Y/N, shy and oblivious and rarely the first to bring up her feelings, so he leaves it at that. He can't think of a worse fate than them actually ending things for good this time, so he keeps his emotions to himself, locked up tight for no one to ever know.

This is a good method, he decides.

Until they're in Y/N's favorite bookshop, perusing through the section titled "BookTok" (he doesn't know what that means, but she clearly does since she has a stack of four books in her hand) and he sees it.

The familiar moony-eyed gaze, batted eyelashes, spit swollen lips. Tugging at his hand, latching onto his arm every second she can, when the word falls from her lips.

"Daddy."

He looks down with wide eyes. She never calls him that when they're in public, but now she's blinking owlishly, nibbling on the fingernails of the hand that isn't attached to Harry's arm.

"Are you alright, baby?" he asks quietly, brushing a piece of her hair out of her eyes.

"Mhm," she nods, grinning up at him, "Feeling little. 's that okay?"

He smiles gently, loving this side of her, but concerned that it's happening when they're out and about. He's never experienced a sudden sub drop before, but he knows that he doesn't want to make her feel unwanted, as if she's doing anything wrong.

"Of course, bunny," he murmurs. "Can daddy take you home, then?"

"Yes, please. Startin' to ache."

With raised eyebrows, he nods quickly, lightly tugging her head in the direction of the register. He buys her books for her, grateful that she's decided to occupy herself with the sticker display before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her to his car. He buckles her in to make sure she's safe, her books piled neatly in her lap, and gets in on the other side.

She's quiet as she flips through one of her new novels while Harry periodically glances over at her to make sure she's doing alright. It's only when she starts squirming in her seat that he puts a hand over her thigh, squeezing gently.

"We'll be home soon, baby. Just hang in there for me."

"Hurts," she pouts, and Harry's heart jumps, "Please— can I— will you?"

He swallows, quickly looking over as she wiggles around. In any other situation, he'd say no — they have a pretty firm no-touching-herself rule when he's not there, but he's never seen her drop into her little space so suddenly before. Hesitantly, he nods, stopped at a red light as he reaches up to pluck at the waistband of her leggings.

"Does my baby just need to cum?" he asks as she quickly shimmies the material down.

"Need you to touch me." she whines, hooking her thumbs under her panties and sliding them to the middle of her thighs.

"Okay, okay," he murmurs. The light turns green and he presses on the gas, moving his hand up to hover over her core. Even with the distance between them, he can see how much she's glistening. "Did you make a mess for daddy? Just walking around, having a nice day, and your little pussy got all wet for me?"

"Yes," she gasps, spreading her pussy lips with his fingers.

He begins to thumb at her clit, pressing small circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. She's already whimpering in her seat, eyes falling closed as she wraps her own hand around his wrist, pulling him closer.

"F-feels so good," Y/N mewls, grinding her hips down in time with his hand.

"Such a good girl for daddy," he tries to ignore the straining in his pants as her arousal readily coats his fingers just from a few swirls around her clit. "Cum for me whenever you're ready, bunny. Show me how good you are."

Thankfully, he's turning onto his street as the knot in her core unravels, breathy whimpers and broken calls of his honorific a clear indicator that she's reached her peak. He groans as he feels her pussy contracting, back arched against the leather of the seat.

"Fuck," he mutters, pulling into the driveway, "You're so fucking beautiful."

She barely has a second to breathe before he throws the car in park and unbuckles her seatbelt. He grabs her face between his hands and smushes their lips together, a surprised squeak sounding from her mouth.

"D-daddy," she gasps, her lips curling into a smile as he squeezes her hip.

"My good girl, yeah?" he grins, breaking apart to press their foreheads to one another. "You make daddy so happy."

Y/N giggles. She's still in her floaty headspace but with one orgasm in, it's less desperate and more bubbly. A reminder of how much she adores Harry, even with the rose-tinted glasses of her little space.

"Need more," Y/N breathes, leaning back in to peck his lips, "Please? Want your cock, want you to— to cum deep inside me."

"I know, bunny." he coos, ignoring the way his length twitches in his pants at her needy tone. He reaches up to press a kiss to her forehead. "C'mon, let's go inside. Wanna take you properly."

As soon as she nods, Harry clamors out of the car and winds around to the other side to open the door for her. With her pile of books in her hand and her flushed cheeks, evident of a recent orgasm, he intertwines their fingers together and helps her to the front door, quickly unlocking it.

Harry's no psychiatrist or expert on the manner, but one of the most interesting parts of Y/N being in her little space is that she doesn't even necessarily realize what she's doing. They've spoken about it before and she's revealed that there have times where she's been so deep under, she doesn't have all of her memories. It's a scary thought, but in a stroke of complete and utter honesty, she's explained to him that she trusts him implicitly — to take care of her when her brain is fuzzy, to never take advantage of her or push her beyond her limits.

Truthfully, Harry should've known then that he was in love with her.

And when she waltzes into his apartment, placing her books on the entryway table like she lives here, he's immediately wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, until her back is pressed up against his chest. She giggles out his honorific and it makes him smile into her hair — god, he loves her so much it might make him sick — before he mumbles out instructions to go upstairs to get undressed for him.

As always, she does as she's asked, ever keen on pleasing him. He gives her a moment as he stands at the bottom of the stairs, taking a deep breath and running his hand over his face. He's never felt so gone over a girl before, and he's managed to keep it together with Y/N this far — but seeing the way she slipped today and knowing it's just another way of showcasing how deeply she trusts their relationship... it's almost too much.

When he does go upstairs, he's instantly reminded of how uncomfortably hard he is. His eyes wander over her naked body, sprawled out across his bed, her feet flat on the bedding with her legs arched at the knee. She's being good — there have been times where he's found her already toying with her clit or sinking the tip of her finger in, but her hands are at her sides today.

"Good girl," Harry murmurs out as he undoes his belt, the leather falling to the floor. "Tell daddy what you want."

She hums, likely unused to getting a say in the foreplay of their scenes. He realizes that she may not know how to answer, so he attempts to help her along.

"Do you wanna be plugged in your bum? Tied up? Edged?" he asks, clad only in his briefs as he places a knee on the bed and wraps a hand around her ankle. "Tell me why daddy's girl needs."

"Want a plug, please," she says softly, allowing him to stretch her legs out, "Just... just wanna be filled."

"Filled, hm?" he teases lightly, reaching under the bed to rifle through the small box of sex toys. She had a bit of a collection of plugs at home, so she'd brought over a few to keep at his place a month or so back (that had been an interesting day, when he thought she had books or extra clothes in her tote bag only to be met with toys). He pulls out the smallest one since, if he's being honest, the need to be inside her is overwhelming, and he doesn't know how long he can play with her ass before he loses his mind.

"Flip onto your tummy, angel girl." he instructs as he pulls his tee and sweatshirt off. She silently does as she's told, pressing her cheek into one of Harry's pillows. She's instantly flooded with scents of his shampoo and cologne, woody and musky and intensely comforting, and it makes her squeeze her thighs together.

Everything about him makes her warm and gooey inside, as if she's coming to the one place — or person — that always feels like home, no matter how awful of a day she's had. Akin to struggling through a snowstorm, the chill pinging through her body and down to her bones; when she's with Harry, it's like being served her favorite bowl of warm soup and being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket fresh out of the dryer.

Harry is her home.

She's floating through this revelation when he pushes her ass cheeks apart, a soft gasp sounding from her mouth when he runs a lubed fingertip around the ring of muscles.

"Such a pretty hole," he murmurs, and she whimpers when she feels him spit, the saliva landing on her asshole, "Love filling you up, you know that? Every last one of these gorgeous holes."

She moans when he fits his finger inside, pushing it all the way to the knuckle. He knows she's experienced with anal so he doesn't feel like he has to be as precious about the process, knowing that she adores the sensation.

"Too bad daddy'll never share you with anyone though. No one will ever get to see how your ass and pussy squeeze around me... that's just for daddy, isn't it?"

Y/N muffles through a moan and he tuts as he pushes a second finger in.

"That's not an answer, bunny. Try again."

She shutters out a sigh and slowly blinks her eyes open, trying her to best not to be overwhelmed by him stretching her out.

"'s just for you, daddy."

"What is, angel?"

"My holes, daddy."

"Good girl," he mumbles, withdrawing his fingers. His cock twitches as he watches her ass gape ever so slightly, the loss of anything inside instantly making her feel empty. It's quickly over, though, because he's rubbing the tip of the lubed plug over her hole. "Deep breath, sweetheart, you know the drill."

Despite doing this numerous times, the stretch never quite gets old for Y/N. (Admittedly, Harry never tires of the view, either.) When her muscles swallow up the thick of the plug, revealing the pink bejeweled end, he groans, tapping it lightly.

"Does that feel better, baby?"

"Uh-huh."

"What do you say?"

"Thank you, daddy."

He smirks and gently pats the backs of her thighs, a wordless gesture to flip back over. She does, her eyelashes fluttering at the feeling of the plug slightly wiggling inside of her, pressing deep against her walls.

She leans up onto her elbows, watching as he palms his length through the material of his underwear. With wide eyes, she looks up at him, trying to ignore the way she can feel her arousal dripping down the inside of her thighs, making a sticky mess.

"What, bunny? Why are you looking at me like you're expecting something?"

Y/N pouts and Harry has to try not to smirk down at her.

"Use your words, angel."

Her pout deepens. They both know what she wants — her pussy is all but screaming for attention — and it's embarrassing to have to admit it. She adores the way he knows her body, but he's clearly feeling just a little meaner tonight by making her verbalize all of the filthy things running through her brain.

"Want you here, daddy." She mumbles cutely, bucking her hips up slightly. He hums and uses a finger to stroke over her mound, down to her crease where her juices are steadily collecting.

"Here?" He asks mockingly, teasing her folds with light movements. It's not enough for her to receive any pleasure, instead just causing her to wiggle around as she attempts to guide him to her pulsating hole.

"Inside," she all but huffs, and he chuckles, removing his touch altogether.

"Ah, where'd my good girl go?" He smirks, "You know that's not how you ask. Plus, if you keep squirming around like this, I'll have to tie you up."

Her stomach clenches at the thought; he's always more keen on edging her until she's crying when he ties her up. She's not in the mood for that tonight — she already feels like he's been edging her by refusing to give into her — so she puffs out a breath, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

"Want you in my pussy, please."

"That's all you had to say, baby," Harry murmurs. She wants to roll her eyes but she knows she'll only get spanked for it, so she nods, reveling in the sensation of his hands back on her as he separates her lips, a cooing sound forming from the back of his throat at his eyes gaze over her swollen pussy. "You have a filthy little pussy. Did you know that, bunny?"

She shakes her head.

"Don't lie to daddy," he utters, delivering a swift slap to her clit. It makes her gasp, the quick sting that's gone just as quickly as it came. "You wouldn't be begging for my cock all the time if you didn't."

Some form of an "uh huh" leaves her mouth and he chuckles. Slowly, his fingertip trails down her crease and to the place she needs him most, circling her hole once before pushing in. Her back arches and her eyes squeeze closed, immediately grateful to finally receive something.

"You'll take anything I give you, won't you?" Harry continues as he pumps his finger, "My fingers, my tongue. My cock, of course. Even my cum — made you daddy's little cumslut, didn't I?"

She moans loudly and nods her head, her hair forming messy knots at the friction.

"L-love it," she stutters, the knot in her stomach winding up tightly, "Love feeling your cum inside me, daddy."

"I know you do." He purrs, pushing another finger in. "Bet you'd let me get you all swollen with it if I wanted. Carrying my baby around like the little slut you are."

They're both too wound up to even realize what he's said. They've never breached this territory before, never even considered if a future was in the cards for them. But Y/N's already whining over it before Harry has a chance to second guess himself, her pussy squeezing his fingers rapidly; a telltale sign that her peak is but a few moments away.

"I would, I would," she chants as she pants loudly, "Fuck— fuck, I'm yours, daddy, I—"

Her words are cut off by the throaty moan that parts her lips, the rope in her core finally splitting. It's so much, so good, her muscles contracting around his fingers as he works her through it, never ceasing his praises.

"There's my girl."

"So fucking beautiful for me."

"God, I got so lucky with you. Fuck."

Her pussy is drooling over his hand now, leaking down to the plug still firmly inside of her. He bites his lip at the visual, her hole still throbbing in haphazard pulses as he frees his cock from the confides of his underwear, desperate to feel her.

With fluttering eyes, she blinks her eyelashes open as she watches him, her mind filled with fuzzy static. She doesn't even realize she's leaked spit out of her mouth until he smiles gently, using soft fingertips to wipe it away.

"Already cock dumb, sweetheart?"

She nods.

"Can you take more, or are you done? Squeeze my hand if you want to be done."

She doesn't — although her mind is bleary and struggling to string together coherent thoughts, the idea of not having Harry inside of her seems terrible. She can tell he looks concerned (his eyebrows are knit together ever so slightly as he strokes up and down her arm, waiting for her to say her safe word), but she has no plans of breaking now.

"More," her mouth finally forms around the syllables, pushing it out hoarsely, "Can do it."

"Yeah?" he asks through raised eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

Again, she nods. Hesitantly, he shimmies up the length of her body, knees pressed into the comforter with his length hot and heavy in his palm.

"You know what to do if it's too much. Safe word or squeeze my hand three times."

And then finally — finally — after what seems like hours of teasing and edging (and, quite frankly, it could have been hours; Y/N's too foggy to know), he pushes his cock inside of her and everything feels right. So right, so good, so perfect.

Her jaw drops open and she leans her head against the crook of his neck, his own groans filling the otherwise quiet room. They're not typically this silent, especially when he first enters her — she's usually whimpering and he's teasing her, calling her a dog in heat or something along those lines — but it's just so... fulfilling, and satisfying, that she can't even put it into words.

When he builds up to a steady pace, mewls begin to break free from her throat, her eyes rolling back as she lays down against the pillows again. He leans back onto his heels and pushes her thighs up against her knees, looping his arms around them to keep her there. He's far deeper that way — they can both feel it — and he gets the prettiest views of her fucked out face and plugged up ass.

"Shit — you're so good, my fuckin' girl."

Too hazy to answer, she just nods, echoing his words. "Your girl."

"Yeah? Gonna take my cum, sweetheart? Want me to fuck it deep into you?"

"P-please," she babbles, reaching down between their bodies to play with her clit, "Want— want your babies, wanna be yours, please daddy."

"My sweet girl wants to be a mama?" he's clenching down his teeth so harshly he's nervous he may break something, "I'll give you anything, baby, pump my cum so deep in your womb you won't even remember your fuckin' name."

Chants of please, please, please are all that can leave her at this point, deft fingers rolling over her clit as she feels her third orgasm rapidly approaching. He knows it, too, and he groans at the sensation of her pussy clenching over his cock.

"Cum for me one more time and I'll do it. My fertile little pussy, hm? Pretty fucking girl gonna be the prettiest mama."

That's all it takes for her to explode around him, this time gushing out clear bursts of liquid. He groans and curses, the sight instantly sending him to his own edge. In the back of his mind, he knows that squirting all over his torso and legs will put her to the final brink of exhaustion, and he's internally grateful that he can let go and make good on his promise to her.

So, he does. He finishes deep inside her, pushing his hips all the way up against her bum as his balls throb and empty, fucking his cum as far as it'll go. They're a mess of liquids and sweat and they both know it's gross, but there's not a single place either one of them would rather be.

When her eyelashes flitter open and she looks up at him, an exhausted smile forming on her lips, he swears he's never seen anything more beautiful.

. . .

"What are your plans for the holidays?"

Harry raises his eyebrows as he spoons some more miso soup into his mouth. It's a gloomy Saturday evening, with the temperatures finally dropping down to appropriate autumnal climates. Y/N came over this morning to pick up a book he recommended for her, but — as if either one hadn't expected it — ended up staying all day, basking in the cozy glory of Harry's apartment. They snuggled up on the couch, watching Jeopardy reruns, taking turns napping and retrieving snacks and drinks for the other.

"Well," he clears his throat, "I'm not American so I don't really celebrate Thanksgiving. And Christmas is a bit far away, so I'm not sure. Why?"

She shrugs, pulling her knees up to her chest. "My sister was asking if I'm coming home for Thanksgiving."

"Ah. Are you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it."

"Why? Isn't it coming up?"

She nods her head, occupying her fingers with a loose thread at the end of Harry's tee shirt that she had thrown over her body.

"Yeah. I just... I don't know if it's stupid, but I was curious about what you were doing. Before I made any decisions."

Harry's heart thumps in his chest, his entire body warming at her taking his plans into consideration.

"That's sweet of you, baby. Hadn't really thought about it, though."

Again, she nods, and he thinks that may be the end of the conversation. He doesn't want to impose, especially since he thinks he's been doing particularly well with the whole not-confessing-his-love thing, so he unmutes the TV and directs his attention back to the screen.

"Wait!" she blurts out, and he mutes it again through furrowed brows, "What if you... like, came with me?"

"For Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah," she bites her lip, nerves apparent on her face, "It's no pressure, my sister's hosting just 'cos she just bought a house with her girlfriend and they have two dogs that are really cute, and my dad might be there but he's not one of those weird hover-y dads that care about who I bring around, not that he wouldn't care but it would be weird to have to explain how we met, and my mom is probably spending it with my step-dad so it'll be pretty low-key, and—"

"Y/N." Harry cuts her off with a smirk before setting his bowl of soup down on the table. "Breathe. You're gonna pass out, I've never heard you talk so fast."

She takes a deep breath and he smiles, murmuring out a good as he turns to face her.

"I would love to come and celebrate Thanksgiving with you. That sounds really nice. Thank you for inviting me."

"Really?"

"Of course," he replies easily. "I love any time we spend together."

Her cheeks warm and she nods, as if she's convincing herself he's being truthful.

"Um... so, like, how should I introduce you?" she asks, and there are so many butterflies swarming Harry's stomach that he doesn't know if he can get any words out.

"Well... how would you like to introduce me?"

She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her lips into her mouth. "I mean, I don't know... maybe, like..."

And then she mumbles something, but it's so low that he can't hear a thing.

"I didn't hear that."

She repeats it, and Harry lets out a laugh when he still doesn't understand her.

"Baby, speak up. I can't hear you."

"WhatifIsaidyouweremyboyfriend."

"What?"

"WhatifIsaidyouweremyBOYFRIEND."

"Y/N, seriously, I don't know—"

"Boyfriend!" she exclaims, "What if I said you were my boyfriend?"

He can't fight the grin that breaks out onto his face, especially given her wide, exasperated eyes. He doesn't think he'll ever tire of teasing her.

"Is this you asking me to be your boyfriend?"

She groans and goes to rise from the couch, only to be quickly brought back down by Harry. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her towards him as his chest vibrates with laughter.

"Ask me properly."

She huffs, twisting in his lap. Swallowing nervously, she looks down, and he intertwines their fingers together.

"Harry... would you want to be my boyfriend?" she peers up at him through her eyelashes and he smiles that big, dimpled smile that she loves, and realizes she has nothing to worry about.

"I would love nothing more than to be your boyfriend."

He decides to save the I-love-you confession for another day, because he wants nothing more than to do things properly with her.

But when a matching toothy grin appears on her face, he mentally amends the one thing he got wrong about her: This is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

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kimberly-spirits13 · 6 months

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How Bruce Wayne Is On Your Period

This is really just meant to make me feel better tbh- lol kill me

He won't tell you, but he knows that it's starting

like come on- the mood swings are terrible, you get more violent on patrol (you put Joker in the hospital for a few days), you're quicker to be snide towards shady business partners, you cried when you dropped a cracker and then went right back to normal, like seriously

When you start to get bad PMS symptoms, you don't do patrol for the week

It's hard to control feelings, thoughts, and painful cramps while fighting crime

You're basically on probation from patrol

You and Alfred make a lot of food (or Alfred makes it happily and you devour it)

Bruce tries not to stay away during patrol for too long since you start to worry about him and he really, really worries about you when you're not feeling well

He makes sure to bring home lots and lots and lots of chocolate and meds if that's what you need

Goes to your favorite bakery and gets a massive amount of whatever you want

Makes sure that you get plenty of water

like all the water because it helps so much

Is totally fine with you raiding his closet for any sweatpants and massive t shirts

doesn't care if there's blood anywhere or if you ruin a set of sheets

he's a billionaire, it's not a loss

he makes sure you aren't uncomfortable or if you need space, that you have it but you know that he's there when you need

Sometimes being around guys when you're on your period is gross and idk why it's just like ugh get away from me you trash bag

speaking of trash bags, if anything grosses you out or starts to make you feel icky (even if it usually doesn't), he totally removes it from your presence

for me, it's cheese and weird or strong smelling things

or anything that looks slimy or too rough *bleh*

If you're ever feeling bloated or just really really gross, Bruce is the hype man

"no gorgeous, you're stunning, exquisite, perfect, amazing, I'm in the presence of an angel babe." he'll spin you around and press kisses all over you

"No, don't say that about yourself, you're so pretty, you're not gross."

I mean he's like this all the time, but he'd definitely play way way into it if you're feeling down

If you're married and wearing a wedding ring, he gets the ring custom made to be adjustable incase you fingers swell

I can see you expressing something nasty about yourself like that you hate a scar or you feel like you're stupid or something and he'll start crying when you start crying

like don't say that dude it's not nice to yourself

You feel like a sweaty hog because your body is pushing out blood and tissue

you're going into mini labour, leave yourself alone

When you can't sleep, he pulls you very tightly into him and plays with your hair

braids it into a hundred tiny braids or brushes it

anything that relaxes you

you probably have a treasure trove of comfort movies and tv shows and if you can't sleep or just want to watch something, he'll happily stay up with blankets wrapped around the two of you and watch whatever

rubs your back and makes sure that you're taking pain medicine every few hours to stay in your system

sometimes when he's working in the cave and you're lonely but not feeling good, you'll wrap yourself in a large blanket and sit on his lap, head against his chest while he works

He thinks you're like a cat and finds it adorable

You basically turn into a cat for a week and maybe some change and he finds it very very funny

makes sure that there are no galas or any meetings that you have to deal with

plans events and meetings around your periods to make sure that when you're on it, you don't have to deal with high society because they make anyone's blood boil (no pun intended)

When you get mad or start crying, he doesn't take it personally at all and just lets you get it out

sometimes laying in the fetal position for a few hours and falling asleep is the best thing that can happen for periods and he will happily cuddle you the entire time, even if it's not the optimal position for cuddling

he tries to stay as neutral as possible on subjects when you're on your period so that you don't kill someone because he seemed equally as unhappy

trust me, period mood swings are incapacitating, it's not a snarky thing, it's just so so sosososoososososoooooooo bad

please don't talk to me when I'm in my mood swing phase, I'll accidentally insult you and then cry about it later or decide never to talk to you again

Local villains will not pull insane shenanigans while you're on you're period because they're terrified

Terrified.

if batman has to call in the calvary, its the calvary call out of hell

You're busting skulls and taking names the entire time

Bruce is scared, the villain is scared, everyone is terrified of this blood thirsty being that wants everyone to be in as much pain as they are

Bruce knows that the world is insufferable and being super hormonal and feeling disgusting and being in pain doesn't help ignoring that fact, or even just living with it

He just wants you to feel better

Bruce gets sad when you don't feel well 😂

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne x reader fluff #batman x y/n #batman x batmom #batman x you #batman x reader #batman imagine #batman fluff

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selineram3421 · 5 months

Text

*giggles like a psycho*

First Day

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor and Child Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ children (lol), reader being a menace ☺, blood/gore, ALL CAPS Bold red Italics = SOUND AFFECTS, red italics= Alastor's thoughts, fake crying, food mention(desserts), mention of murder, mention of kidnapping, mention of torture, murder of test demon ⚠

You saw the school bus and it was filled with shouts and screeches of other demon children. Making sure you of the item in your pocket, you readied yourself to begin the plan.

Stage one: Have some control over the school bus.

The door opened and you hop up the steps, the screams even louder now that you were inside.

It was absolutely unhinged.

I can do better. You thought, taking a quick glance to find a seat.

"Hurry up and sit down brat.", the bus driver yelled.

"Quiet before I cut you open.", you said to them without missing a beat and walked towards the back of the bus.

You were calm as the other children were acting like drug addicts.

One was bold enough to try and trip you with their leg out. Looking at them, you see that they have a cocky grin.

"Can you please move your leg? Its in the way.", you ask.

"No. Just go over it.", they laughed.

With a shrug you do just that, they try and lift their leg up higher to trip you but you jump at the last second and aim for their knee.

SNAP

They scream like bloody murder as they cry, grabbing the attention of the other children. All eyes are on you and the broken leg that's spewing out blood.

"I did ask nicely.", you say before continuing on your way to the open seat in the back.

Finally, you arrive at the school and find your classroom, now you were standing next to the teacher as your new classmates make a mess with paper planes and other items.

"Everyone SHUT UP! This is the new student.", the teacher Ms. Mayberry introduces you to the class. "Go on and say hello, then take the empty seat over in the middle."

You nod and smile as you face the children.

"Don't cross me or you might end up like Mikey!", you say cheerfully and go sit down.

Stage two: Assert dominance and be kind to those who are kind to you. *weed out any snakes*

Alastor got ready to pick up his little demon.

I wonder if they had fun. He thought before leaving the hotel.

On his way over, he picked up some pastries from their favorite bakery. Now the Radio Demon was just a few feet away from the gate that had a few lingering children, that's where he saw his little one waiting with the teacher who was smoking.

They spotted him and lit up.

"Alastor!", they cheered before running up.

The teacher had backed up a bit after noticing who he was.

"Good afternoon mon petite!", he said and picked them up. "Did you have a good time? Hm? Were there any pests?"

"I took care of it! But all of them went home alive.", they replied as he began walking back to the hotel. "Bye Ms. Mayberry!", they waved to their teacher.

They had started to tell him what happened on the school bus as they got closer to the hotel, that is when the deer demon reminded them to look sad.

"I don't think I can keep a straight face but I can still cry like I'm sad.", the little demon said. "I know what to do."

They hid their face on his shoulder and started shaking their shoulders, making convincing sniffles and sobs.

Alastor opened the hotel doors, finding the princess and her partner, one of them holding a cupcake.

"Oh no, what happened?", Charlie asked after noticing the little demon's shaking shoulders.

"There was a bully that harassed them today.", he answered and made his way over to the stairs, lifting up the bakery box. "I've already bought them sweets to cheer them up but you can leave the cupcake for dessert after dinner."

Once in the hotel room, he sets them down and put the box of sweets on the small table near the door.

"Wash your hands before getting your sweets.", he says before helping them take off their school bag.

"Ok!", they nod and run over to the bathroom.

Taking the box, the demon in red snaps his fingers to conjure some plates on the coffee table. He sets up the table before putting the pastries on the plates. Making sure to get their favorite cup for their drink.

They went to their room before coming back out with no coat and taking a seat on the couch.

"Now, tell me all about your day.", he said giving them a plate with a slice of cranberry pomegranate curd tart. "What kind of drink would you like with your sweets?"

They ask for their favorite drink and proceed to tell him about what happened after the "tripping" incident.

The deer demon prepares a cup of coffee while getting their drink.

"Some of the kids tried to act tough and pick a fight with me during reeses. The supervisors don't care if there's a fight as long as no one gets killed.", they said before taking a bite of the tart. "I broke a lot of bones today.", they add.

"Don't speak while chewing dear.", Alastor hands them a napkin, placing their cup next to their plate before sitting down.

They go into detail of all the injuries they caused with a wide smile. Telling him that they want to learn more tactics of intimidation to scare some of the staff.

"Finish your homework and I'll take you out so you can have hands on experience.", he says and sips his coffee.

"Really!?", they ask excited.

"Of course! Its the best way to learn."

After dinner (and their desert), they headed out and found a demon to test on.

"The best way to intimidate someone is through fear. Give them something that will always remind others not to try anything. Breaking the boy's leg was good, but remember that it is on school grounds that you cannot kill.", he says as both of them watch the test demon scream as they are being taken apart limb by limb. "Of course you have my permission to kill anyone that tries to kill or kidnap you. Or other terrible things.."

"Can I torture them a little bit?", they ask.

"Yes, but don't let your guard down.", the Radio Demon says, using the tendrils to rip the test demon's head off. "Remember mon petite, prey can bite back."

On the way back to the hotel, he got them a new plush, a small mouse to attach to their school bag.

"Mr. Squeaks."

Tehe.

~Seline, the person.

Extra: Dessert image

Extra EXTRA: Art

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @kiraisastay @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @ducky-died-inside @biromanticboba @roo-bi @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

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highvern · 6 months

Text

Lucky Me

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: idiots in love, fluff, established relationship

Warnings: sickening sweet tooth rotting fluff, kissing, tears, brief mention of illness, in this lore Seungchoel is a married man and off the proverbial streets

Length: ~1.4k

Note: Drunk Goggles couple's first L-word! post Discovery by like a few weeks lmao. I'm actually crying in the club bc Mingyu is my ENXJ kindred spirit so i wrote this in the most self serving way possible lol