#can I find a middle please I’m tired of getting crushed

[gold-dustwomxn]

mystified

part 2

summary: after sudden attacks on women around town, you take a self defense class. ellie, your long standing crush is the instructor

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

each chapter will have their own warnings please read them! eventual smut

cw: mentions of child abuse and implication of attempted sexual assault (does not go into detail for either), panic attack

fluff and angst

light rocking against your shoulder and a distant call of your name pulls you from your deep slumber making you groan, not conscious enough to take in where you are. “hey sleepyhead, wake up.” ellie’s raspy whisper has you cracking one eye open. you’re too tired to even speak or think coherently, making you hum in question.

ellie chuckles and looks at you for a moment before speaking. “sorry to wake you up so early.. I gotta be at the construction site in an hour.” you blink away your remnants of sleep and realize ellie has damp hair, is fully dressed for the day and the sun isn’t even up yet. “it’s okay. sorry I fell asleep here I didn’t even realize.” she smiles softly, “no worries, I don’t mind. you looked pretty comfy..I can drive you home on my way to work.”

the short drive to your house shares a peaceful, comfortable silence between you and ellie. the sky painting a breathtaking winter sunrise of pinks and purple. ellie pulls up to your house way too quickly for your liking, the small disappointment of having to part ways felt in your chest.

“thanks for the ride and letting me crash at your place.. I had fun last night.”

“me too,” she smiles and you feel that warmth settle deep in your stomach again. it’s a rarity to see her full smile “it’s no problem, really.. are you busy tonight?”

“no, I don’t think I have anything going on.” you know you don’t actually have anything going on. you bite the inside of your cheek to try to suppress a smile, but ellie looks between your eyes and down at your mouth and smirks at you. caught.

“well, if you’re not busy later you wanna hang out? I get off at 3, we can go to a cafe or something.” she clears her throat and you can see how physically painful this is for her. she forces herself to keep eye contact though.

you giggle and she narrows her eyes at you playfully, unspoken words and body language received between the both of you. “yeah, I’m down. just text me when you get off.”

“alright cool I can pick you up. see you later, ___.”

me: DINA wake the fuck up!!!!!

dina🤍: bitch its literally 7am why tf are u disturbing me

me: wow. anyway! last night I was walking to ur house and some creepy dude pulls up next to me asking me for directions and shit acting super sketchy. ellie pulls up out of nowhere and goes all psycho ellie mode and pulls out a fucking switchblade. I was like 😦 but it was also so hot. he skids off and she gets pics of his plates and we go back to her place for joel to deal with it. he thinks the cops can keep an eye out for that car and see if that guy has anything to do with the assaults happening. it was lowkey really scary but I’m okay. we ended up smoking and talking for hours and it was literally perfect and then we ended up falling asleep and I woke up in the middle of the night laying ON HER CHEST with her arm around me. we’re hanging out again tonight

dina🤍: wtf that’s so fucking scary! im glad ur okay:( but ommg im so excited for u angel. its ab damn time some moves are made and we can go on double dates tg hehe

me: ok let’s not get ahead of ourselves here we’ll see what happens. that’s all I wanted to tell u. ur allowed to go back to sleep now:)

dina🤍: wow how gracious of u. lmk how everything goes though <33

clothes are strewn all over your bed and floor, while you frantically try to find a cute outfit to wear. it’s fine, it’s just ellie. she’s seen you a million times since you were both 14. you finally settle on a pair of jeans and a black sweater, with your chelsea doc martens. good enough.

ellie🌿🗡️: Hey, I’m outside whenever you’re ready.

me: be right there!

okay, just breathe. everything’s fine!

as you hop into the passenger seat, ellie looks you up and down. “you look good.” you give her a shy smile and observe her; hair tied half up, in a dark green flannel with an oversized black denim jacket, black jeans with her usual pair of converse, multiple rings on her long fingers, and the scent of her woodsy cologne. “thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.” she smiles and shakes her head, pulling out of your driveway.

“yeah, he almost dropped a whole fucking plank of wood on my head today!”

you start laughing, walking out of the coffee shop together. “maybe the hit would’ve done you good, ellie. you are very hard headed.” ellie’s jaw drops “wow, someone’s feisty today, huh?” you smile and roll your eyes, going to shove her and she catches your wrist, pulling you close to her. your breath hitches and you look down at her lips. something behind you catches ellie’s attention, her smile dropping instantly and face turning ghostly pale.

“ellie? what’s wrong?” she grabs your hand and walks you quickly to the car, opening your door to make sure you get in first before frantically hopping into her seat and speeding out of the parking lot.

“hey, what’s going on?” she shakes her head and doesn’t respond, her chest rising and falling at a rapid rate, eyebrows scrunched together.

the speed of her driving and her concerning behavior is stressing you the fuck out. she pulls up to her house and lets you both in before she runs up the stairs to the bathroom, whipping the door shut with a loud slam.

you slowly walk up the stairs, not knowing whether or not to give her privacy. you suddenly hear her crying and hyperventilating. “ellie, I’m coming in.”

ellie is seated on the floor next to the tub with her head between her legs, forearms laid on her knees. “hey, hey I’m here. can I touch you?” she nods and you gently take her hand, softly rubbing the back of her palm while you place her other hand against your chest. “try to follow my breathing, okay?” you take slow, deep breaths for her to follow until she calms down.

“I’m sorry.” she avoids looking at you. “no, I’m here for you, okay? you don’t have to hide from me.” she wipes the rest of her tears from her eyes and nods. you move to sit next to her and gently rub her back, still holding her hand.

“do you wanna talk about it?” she clears her throat and looks straight ahead. “I uh… saw one of my old foster parents. he was pretty fucked up,” she lets out a dry laugh. “thought I was over it but I didn’t expect to see him.”

“what did he do?” she looks at you in contemplation before looking away with a cold, steely gaze. she sniffs and nods, “he… used to beat the shit out of me all the time for no reason.” she looks down at her scarred tattoo and rubs the skin. “this burn… he tried to-“ she clenches her jaw and shakes her head. “anyway, I managed to get away before he did anything, but I ended up burning my arm on the stove in the midst of it all. tried to press charges but that didn’t work, big shocker,” she scoffs. “I ran away and refused to go back so they placed me with joel and he eventually adopted me.”

she looks back up at you, trying to gauge what you’re thinking. you don’t realize you’re crying until she wipes away a tear from your cheek. “hey, don’t cry it was a long time ago I was just… not prepared for all of that.”

“sorry, I just hate that you had to go through all of that, especially at such a young age.” she lets out a deep breath and nods. “sorry our date got ruined” she gives you a sad smile.

“it wasn’t,” you squeeze her hand “I had a good time and I’m just glad I was able to be here with you.” you look up in thought, “do you have brownie mix?” she looks at you in confusion and lets out a small laugh “uh, I dunno, why?” “whenever I’m sad or going through something, I like to bake because it gives me something to do to take my mind off of everything and brownies are fucking good.” you nod with conviction. ellie laughs, “you are so fucking cute. c’mon let’s go see if I have some brownie mix.”

as you mix the chocolatey batter, and hum to the song playing on the speaker, ellie leans against the counter and watches you. she loves the domesticity and warmth you surround her with, and you were right, doing all of this is making her feel better.

“are you just gonna stand there and stare at me or are you gonna help?” “nah I think I’m good right here” she smirks at you. you nod slowly and look at her with mischief, holding up the spoon. her eyes widen and she points her finger at you, “don’t you fucking dare.”

you chase ellie around the kitchen island, out of breath from laughing and she ends up slipping on her sock, grabbing onto the counter for balance. as you run up to her and try to smear the batter on her face, she grabs your arm. you struggle against her, making you trip over her leg and she catches you, wrapping her arms around your waist. both of your laughters fade into small smiles as both of your eyes trails to each other’s lips. ellie’s face becomes serious as she leans in, lips ghosting yours. the sound of the front door opening has you both abruptly backing away from each other. fucking joel.

“hey kiddo, what are y’all up to?” ellie’s face is beet red and she clears her throat, “just making some brownies. why are you home?” ellie’s voice holds a bit of an edge to it.

“well, damn, I’ll get outta your hair in a minute, just stoppin’ by, forgot to pack my dinner.” she hums in annoyance. your eyes widen at the tension ellie is radiating.

“joel! my parents wanted me to give this to you as a thanks for the free self defense lesson, and for helping me out yesterday.” you open up your bag and take out a bottle of whiskey. ellie’s brows furrow, oops you forgot to tell her.

joel holds the bottle at a downward angle “would’ya look at that.. I’ll be sure to send my thanks to them.” he walks to the fridge and grabs out a container. “alright I’m headin’ out,” he looks at ellie “do me a favor, don’t burn the house down.” she groans and rolls her eyes.

“mm, these brownies are fucking good. you were right after all.” you scoff and smack her arm, “of course I was right. don’t ever doubt me again.” ellie rolls her eyes, “yes ma’am,” she quips sarcastically. “now, pay attention, this is my favorite part of the movie,” you say with feigned sternness. she smiles and nods, finishing off her brownie and leans back into her pillows.

you rest your head on her shoulder and place your hand on her stomach, tracing small patterns. you look up at her and whisper, “ellie?”

“hm?”

“do you really feel okay now?”

she turns her head to the side to look at you, face only inches away, and nods slowly. you feel her breath ghosting your lips and your heart starts racing, chest rising up and down quickly. ellie parts her mouth and licks her lips, leaning in, kissing you softly. she pulls away to look at you, before sitting up and grabbing your face, deepening the kiss.

HA sorry to edge u all. things are gonna get spicy as fuck in the next chapter. interactions are much appreciated 💗

taglist: @me-and-your-husband @fireflyels

#emmysfics #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fanfic #tlou ellie #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader

[tired-but-willing]

Seriously No rush and no pressure but please continue to bless us with some poly Ronal/Tonowari x reader shit 🧎‍♀️

I’m down bad for them especially after reading your “tattoos” 🫶

Morning Light

Pairing: Tonowari & Ronal / GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,520

Warnings: So much fluff I had to question if I should delete some. No spoilers for the Way of Water.

Summary: The world is changing around you, but for now, in your home, there is peace.

Light streamed in through the woven walls of your home. You had yet to open your eyes, yet you knew the sun was waiting. You felt the warmth of it on your closed eyelids. With a long yawn, you stretched, extending your legs to their limit to bring life back into your tired body. You attempted to roll over and found your plans thwarted by a weight resting on your waist. You itched to investigate it, but you were so tired. You reached up and nudged at it with your hands. "It" was an arm. You wrapped your fingers around it the best that you could and lifted it up into the air. A puff of air disturbed the strands of hair atop your head.

"What are you doing?" Tonowari rumbled from behind you, halfheartedly trying to pull his arm from your grip. He had been comfortable before you decided you wanted to capture the limb and wave it around aimlessly.

"You are heavy," you replied. "Crushing me."

He let out another puff and successfully escaped your grasp, returning his arm to its rightful place, wrapped around your middle. "Enough drama."

"Drama?" Now you opened your eyes. Indignant, you turned over to face him. "I am not dramatic. You are heavy. You are so-"

"What is happening?" Ronal, who had once laid with her back to your chest, was now awake. She sat upright, her eyes still lidded and drowsy. "Why are you talking? It is early."

"The duties of a Tsahìk begin early," Tonowari stated. His tone made it obvious that he wasn't serious. From where you lay, you could see how his eyes sparkled with mirth when he addressed your mate.

"The duties of an Olo'eyktan should be silence." Ronal's retort was quick. She had a fast working mind and a tongue that was somehow just as swift. Even with your back to her, you could feel the look she shot Tonowari. Then the netting beneath you dipped and she laid down once more. You felt her arm slip around your waist and gasped, finding that you were effectively kept from moving once more.

"What did I just say?" You asked. "Heavy. I can't breathe."

"You can breathe fine," said Tonowari. "We are close. I feel your breath."

You very pointedly took a gulp of air, no longer breathing. He was right; you were lying so close that he could feel your every exhale on his chest. So you simply wouldn't exhale. He stared down at you.

"Are you serious?" He asked. "What is this?"

"No acting like children." Ronal abruptly squeezed your middle, robbing you of the precious oxygen you had stored in your lungs and forcing you to breathe normally again. When you tried to hold your breath a second time, she jabbed her fingers into your side, ripping a laugh from your throat as she exclaimed your name.

"No!" You shrieked between fits of breathless laughter, reaching down to push at her hand. "Ronal! Mercy!"

"Why?" She caught your hand with her other, which you hadn't seen coming. "You are behaving like a child."

"This is childish!" You wailed, tipping your head back so you could attempt to get a look at her. "I have done no wrong. It was him!"

"Him?" Ronal stopped her assault on your sides, letting you catch your breath. "Is this true, Tonowari?"

"I have never behaved as anything other than an adult," he responded, leaning forward and kissing the top of her head. You were fully prepared to joke about how you felt left out- fake whining and all- but he was one step ahead of you. He kissed your head as well, silencing your future complaint. "It is not something that sounds like me."

You rolled your eyes, exaggerating the movement just to be sure that he saw it. "The clan may think that, but I know better."

"Do you?" A playful grin came to his face. You had no time to reply before he retreated from you, his arm slipping away from your waist. Suddenly you missed it. Sure, it had crushed you into the netting, but it was a comfortable crush. You sat up, bringing Ronal with you, as she had yet to let go of your middle. She seemed perfectly content to hold onto you as you went about waking up.

Who were you to complain? You were content with it too.

"Come back," you commanded. "It is cold."

"It is morning," he replied. "The sun will come soon."

"I miss you."

"Do you?" He glanced back at you and Ronal. "Maybe I will come back. In exchange."

"In exchange?" You narrowed your eyes. To your left, Ronal had begun to busy herself, no longer engaged in the conversation between you and Tonowari. Her fingers traced the numerous tattoos on your arm. Tattoos which she herself had done. You could remember each of them. You shuddered, the reaction instinctive as her fingertips brushed your shoulder blade.

"In exchange for an apology." He sat down across from you. "I feel slighted."

"You are slighted."

"____." His expression carried only amusement. His lips were curved into a smirk that was reserved for only you and your other lover. To the clan, he was a tough but benevolent leader. A strong man with a gentle heart. For you and Ronal, there was only gentleness. Only love. That love carried a playfulness that you loved, and you wouldn't quite admit that you wish you saw more.

Ronal's hand touched your lower back, remaining there. Your posture went rigid. Her palm was warm on your skin. Warm, but rough. Her skin was worn from years of hard work as both Tsahìk and a hunter. You loved it; you didn't need physical softness. You only needed her and Tonowari.

Tonowari, who you knew you would not be receiving until the stubborn man got his apology. With a dramaticized sigh, you dipped you head.

"I am sorry for slighting you. Come back before I freeze to death."

He laughed. The sound was a low rumble that came straight from his chest. He scooted forward and joined you once more, reaching up and cradling your face in a hand. His palm was close to the size of your head. It was easy to lean into it, basking in the warmth that his skin gave off. Amusement brought a smile to his lips.

"Better?" He asked.

"Much." You leaned in with a satisfied smile of your own, brushing your lips against his. "Stay."

"Always," he responded. The kiss that followed was nothing short of perfect. Kissing Tonowari was something out of a fantasy. No matter how long you had been lovers, and no matter how many times you kissed him, it always felt as though it was your first. He was impossibly gentle, holding you like you were something that could shatter should he make a wrong move. You were far from fragile- something both of you knew- but you still enjoyed being handled with such care.

Saying you separated from the kiss when you were satisfied would be a lie. If you had it your way, you could kiss him forever. But there was another factor to take into consideration; that being you wanted to kiss Ronal too. You doubted anyone would blame you if they were in your position. Your lovers were simply flawless. You would spend all the time in the world with them if given the chance.

Ronal's hand dropped to your waist when you turned your head to her. At the same time, Tonowari took the hint, removing his hand from your waist and settling it on your thigh instead.

"I see you have everything sorted out," she said wryly. You scoffed, playful.

"I am good with negotiation. I learned from the best."

"Certainly not him."

Tonowari squeezed your thigh gently, making his indignation known. "I am plenty good at negotiating."

You laughed and pat his hand. In truth, he was wonderful with negotiation. Wonderful with his words. Others naturally liked and trusted him. The other villages respected him greatly. You couldn't be prouder. Yet, you weren't going to focus on that right now. Your sights were set elsewhere.

"I can show you," you offered. "I am very good at it."

"I learn through experience," said Ronal. She sounded like she was on the verge of laughter, causing you to almost dissolve into a fit of giggles as well. When you kissed her, you were still smiling against her lips from your joke.

You spent the morning like that; lazily exchanging affections with both of your mates. All of your duties could wait. Tonowari could hunt in the noon. There were no sick for Ronal to see to. And of course, with your Olo'eyktan permitting it, there was no need for you to hunt yet either.

There were duties to be completed later on, but for now, for this moment, there was no need to worry. There was peace in your home, and in your village. You would do whatever it took to be sure it stayed that way.

#avatar the way of water x reader #avatar 2 #tonowari x reader #tonowari x ronal #tonowari #ronal x reader #ronal #request

[siriussslut]

hi! can i ask for something with marlene ? maybe that her roommate!reader has an obvious crush on her and marls knowing that decides to tease her (change her clothes in the middle of a room, purposely forget to take her towel to the shower etc.) and that leads up to them having sex? it's my first request ever and i decided to send it because i'm tired of seeing so little marauders era girls content:( let our girlies have their moment!!

yes oh my god!!! the girls are in desperate need of more content. i’m always down to write for them so please please please don’t hesitate to request stuff for them! anyways hope you enjoy <33

warnings: masturbating, fingering, & squirting

masterlist

you pause the movie right at the beginning, and go back to your phone as you wait for marlene. she’d gotten home only a few minutes ago after finishing work, and now she’s taking a quick shower before your movie night. tonight was marlene’s pick, and so you’re watching some horror movie.

the bathroom door creaks open and you look up, expecting to find her clean and ready, but she’s darting down the hall… naked. she’s quick, slipping into her room in less than a second, but you catch a quick glimpse of her.

she’s glistening and wet, drops of water sliding down her bare skin. “sorry, forgot my towel!” she says, rushing back to the bathroom.

your eyes fixate on the swell of her ass before the door shuts behind her, lock clicking. you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you try to remember every curve and dip of her body. you’d seen glimpses of her before, of course, being roommates, but never this much, never this exposed.

your hand slips under your pajama pants as you recall the quick flash of a breast, nipple hard and pointed. wetness pools between your fingers, pulse racing. just when you feel seconds before a release, the door clicks back open.

your hand flies away and you quickly wipe them dry on your clothes, leaving you aching. marlene grins. she’s wearing nothing but a towel, leaving her arms and legs are bare, but you want to see more. you look away.

“did you put the movie on?” she asks as the sound of something dropping to the floor rings in your ears.

“yep.” you glance at her and immediately falter. she’s changing. in the living room. her towel lays on the floor, as she pulls up her shorts, tits exposed and swinging slightly with the movement. you tear your gaze away, and look back at her face. something mischievous glints in her eyes.

you look away, eyes fixating on the blank screen. she shuts the lights and plops on the couch beside you, thankfully fully clothed. you try to ignore how good she smells as you press play on the remote.

you’re dying. you’re fucking dying. marlene is pressed against you, cuddling into you under a blanket. you can feel every crevice her body has to offer. her nipples poke into your side, driving you insane.

“you okay?” marlene asks innocently, glancing away from the movie.

you nod stiffly. “mhm.”

“you sure?” she leans forward, tits pressing even closer against you.

she moves her hand, resting it on your upper thigh. “i can help you if you want.”

“help me?”

she nods, inching her hand higher. “only if you want.”

after a frozen moment of shock, you jerkily nod. she breaks out into a grin and immediately straddles your thigh, fingers slipping into your underwear. she runs her fingers through your folds, collecting your slick.

“you’re so wet.” her voice is low and it sends tingles down your spine.

“can you fucking blame me?” you say, eyes fluttering shut as she begins to play with your pussy. she grinds against your thigh as she fingers you, releasing soft groans into your ear.

her fingers circle your clit, getting you even wetter. when you’re practically dripping she lowers her fingers, slipping one inside. “is this okay?” her voice is low and rough.

“m-mhm.” you say, throwing your head back as she thrusts inside of you.

you reach out for her as she continues, hand slipping under her shirt. your hand closes around her breast, fingers gently playing with her nipple.

she curls her finger inside of you, drawing a shaky moan from your lips. she thrusts deeper, still grinding against your thigh.

you feel a knot form in your stomach and before you can register what’s going on, you squirt into her palm, soaking your pants.

your face burns crimson, and you’re about to apologize, but she doesn’t seem to be upset. if anything, it turns her on further. she grinds faster against you, dampening the cloth of your pants.

she whimpers quietly as she comes, resting her head on the sweaty skin of your neck.

“was… was that good?” you ask after a moment of silence.

she smiles. “yeah. it was good.”

#marlene mckinnon #marlene mckinnon smut #marlene mckinnon x reader #marlene mckinnon x reader smut #marlene x reader #marlene x reader smut #marauders #marauders era #marauders smut #marauders girls #marauders era girls #smut #harry potter smut #marauders era smut #marauders girls smut #wlw smut #lesbian marlene mckinnon #lesbian marlene

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Letterman Jacket

Javier Peña x F!Reader oneshot

{ Main Masterlist }

Rating: E (18+ only)

Summary: Tensions come to a head between you and Javier on the private jet back to Bogotá after a long, frustrating day. Or rather - after six long, frustrating years of bad blood.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: My first PW(much)P, enemies to lovers, arguing, swearing, drinking, dirty talk, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, thigh riding, no use of Y/N, soft!Javier

Notes: After obsessing over this damn jacket forever, I finally pulled the trigger. This is my first ever Javier, and I know he’s not perfect, but my 2023 resolution is to not overthink things, and I had a blast writing this in a couple of days since the idea came to me. I’m so nervous posting this, but excited to have finally made a start with Javier. Please be gentle with me ❤️

P.S. I’m going on my honeymoon the next 2 weeks. I’m sure I’ll be lurking around, and I also have new content all queued up for @fuckyeahpedropascal! See you!

I’m still finding Javier’s voice, but my understanding and interpretation of this man so far is definitely shaped by @the-ginger-hedge-witch character analyses and The Crush (which I’m still catching up on). Thank you Professor Ren for sharing your insight into our favourite DEA agent 🥰

It’s cold.

Why is it cold in fucking Miami?

If only you’d checked the weather report beforehand - oh wait, that’s right. You weren’t exactly given much notice, even less detail, when the phone call came this morning. Not that 4am should count as "morning" in your books.

We found him.

Who?

Jurado. Take the first flight out to Curacao this morning, it’s in two hours. We’re taking him in and flying straight to Miami. Get the papers ready, he’ll be testifying tomorrow.

What the actual fuck, Peña -

You can’t even remember what you stuffed into your weekender bag after he hung up without another word. Mostly legal papers and pens and a change of clothes - all of which are now redundant. The bag hangs heavy in your grip, the taste of failure bitter in your mouth.

Something warm descends onto your shoulders, and you almost jump out of your skin, eyes wide as they snap up. Javier isn’t looking at you though, his unseeing gaze trained on the tips of his brown leather boots, hands in the pockets of his dark blue jeans. He trudges across the tarmac, the bravado that is usually so loud in his walk conspicuously absent.

Reaching up, you pull his jacket tighter with your free hand, the stretch of the fabric distorting the bold letters DEA emblazoned on the left lapel. He doesn’t wear it often - he’s in suits mostly these days, which you can tell pisses him off to no end. He almost never does his tie up properly, a subtle middle finger to the establishment, perhaps.

Your lips twitch despite yourself. Peña’s always been happier going on literal wild goose chases.

The jacket easily engulfs you, blocking out the unwelcome evening chill. You breathe in the faint but unmistakable scent of cigarettes and you can feel the weight of a full box swing against your side. He keeps insisting he’s trying to quit, but obviously not very hard.

Somehow, it doesn’t feel any warmer in the plane cabin, and you put your arms through the sleeves of the jacket properly before sinking heavily into one of the plush leather seats with a sigh, relieved to get off your sore feet.

You don’t notice the small plane taking off with just the two of you, sitting silently opposite each other until the flight path levels, at which point Javier promptly heads to the small bar at the end of the cabin and comes back with two generous glasses of whiskey.

Sipping in silence, you let your gaze settle on him, no subtlety left in the tank after your shitty day at twenty hours and counting. Javier, in turn, stares listlessly out of the window, uninterested in your scrutiny. Strands of mussed hair fall over his tired eyes, the dark circles underneath shadowing his entire countenance.

His pink shirt, which was drenched in sweat when he’d finally, finally caught up to Jurado in that square in Curacao, has long dried in the cool Miami air. And of course it’s tight and the neckline unbuttoned halfway down his chest, the poor fabric stretched to an inch of its life by his obnoxiously wide shoulders. It’s tucked into even tighter jeans that seem to struggle to contain all of him.

Honestly, it’s a damn miracle he could do any running at all in this ensemble.

You stare at the little fold-up table between the two of you. It had been covered in papers en route to Miami just hours ago, the Cali moneyman sitting exactly where you are now. Jurado agreed to the lesser charges of money laundering and racketeering in exchange for testifying for the DEA. You had him. He was in that interview room. The lawyers from the Miami county court were ready to take over.

But somehow, that smarmy, rotund excuse of a cartel lawyer got there first.

A heavy sigh catches your ear over the whir of the plane engines, and you watch as Javier drags one heavy hand over his face, the tips of his thick fingers resting above his pursed lips, before he shakes his head.

The words are out of your mouth before your head catches up. ‘Stop it.’

Dark eyes flicker your way, brows drawing into a frown. ‘What?’

Your empty glass clunks loudly when it hits the table. ‘Stop beating yourself up. We both know this is out of our hands. Quit the self-martyrdom bullshit.’

The grin comes quickly and sarcastically. You hate it. He’s never been big on smiles, but you’ve seen how his face can light up with a laugh over a drink, or at a good joke. From a distance, of course, and never in your direction. You’ve only ever had scowls and glares thrown your way.

You’re not alone though - these days, that’s all anyone ever gets from him.

Leaning back in his chair, one big palm cradling the bottom of the crystal tumbler that looks much smaller than it should, and the other resting on his thigh, Javier huffs a sardonic laugh. ‘Is that what you think of me?’

‘I don’t think it. I know it.’

‘You don’t know me,’ he answers coolly.

You roll your eyes. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Peña. You’re not some pouty, brooding mystery to me. I’ve been cleaning up after your mess for six fucking years.’ Shaking your head, you can’t help adding, ‘Not that you’ve ever appreciated any of it.’

He gives you a derisive snort. ‘I wasn’t aware that I should be thanking you for getting in my way at every turn.’

‘Getting in your way?’ you chuckle mirthlessly. ‘I’ve been trying to keep you out of jail, asshole.’

‘Maybe you shouldn’t be.’

‘Is this what all this is about? Some survivor’s guilt bullshit?’ Unperturbed by his silence, you press on. ‘Well guess what, I don’t work for you. Having the attaché in jail isn’t really a good look for our employer, so bad news, you’re a free man as long as I’m legal counsel for the DEA.’

‘It would make my life a lot fucking easier if you weren’t.’

The words are so quiet, so matter-of-fact, they have no right to hit you as hard as they do. You’re horrified to feel the sting of tears on the seam of your eyelashes, and your lips part wordlessly before you regain your voice. ‘Fuck you, Peña.’

He winces and sits up, setting his glass next to yours on the table. ‘Shit. That came out wrong -’

Nails dig into your palms as hurt threatens to claw its out of the carefully locked compartment where you keep it. ‘No, I think it came out exactly as you meant it. You’ve hated me since day one.’

‘I don’t hate you -’

You glare at him. ‘You think I don’t know what people say behind my back over drinks at the embassy bar, when I’m stuck in the office dealing with whatever legal bullshit you’ve dug yourself into? I bet you like a good laugh at my expense.’

Shifting forward in his seat, Javier reaches out and grabs your left wrist. ‘Stop it. I don’t. You know I wouldn’t.’

You try to pull back but he doesn’t budge, easily holding you in place. You bite out, ‘I’ll quit if that’s what you want. Might as well make both of our lives easier with one resignation letter.’

Javier’s hold on you tightens, and he bares his teeth in frustration. ‘That’s not what I want.’

‘That’s exactly what you said you wanted just now. Why don’t you make up your fucking mind, Peña?’ you snap back.

‘I can’t,’ he snarls, his other hand finding your free wrist, almost jolting you out of your seat. He’s so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath. ‘I’ve never been able to with you.’

You go as still as the air around you, the mixed signals scrambling the wires in your already exhausted head. You narrow your eyes and him and hiss, ‘What?’

Javier heaves a sigh, breathing out the words through gritted teeth and eyes screwed shut. ‘You drive me up a fucking wall, woman.’

Anger surges in you, and you manage to yank both of your wrists free. Pushing him away, you spit at him with all the venom you can muster. ‘Fuck you, too!’

He growls, raking one hand through his hair before slamming it onto the fold-up table, making the glasses clink when they knock together from the force. ‘Goddamnit, won’t you just hear me? I can’t decide if I want you to shut the fuck up or if I just - want you.’

You watch his broad chest rise and fall in quick succession as he slumps in his chair, as if the last two words that are still ringing in your ears knocked the wind out of him.

Want you.

His eyes follow from under thick lashes when you reach out for the glasses, relocating them to the carpeted floor on the other side of your chair, before finding the lever underneath the table and folding it down. And you don’t miss the way his stare falls to your legs as you cross them deliberately, skirt hitching higher up, his Adam’s apple bobbing thickly in the column of his neck.

You tilt your head to one side in a challenge. ‘Well? What are you going to do about it, then?’

He’s out of his chair and on you in a beat, his arms caging you in as you pull him close by the collar of his shirt. You murmur against his lips, ‘You’re a fucking asshole, Peña.’

‘I know. Let me make it up to you -’ The words barely make it out of his mouth before he kisses you, lips warm and wet and pressing into yours insistently.

You let out a surprised yelp when Javier tugs you onto your feet, hot hands pushing his jacket off your shoulders but leaving it hanging from the crook of your arms. Goosebumps bloom where his fingers brush your sternum as he unbuttons your sleeveless shirt underneath, tugging it free from where it’s neatly tucked into your skirt.

You retort, ‘You’re going to make up for six years of bad blood on a three-hour flight?’

‘Well, what are you doing tomorrow?’ he asks almost conversationally, and with a casual flick, he undoes the front clasp of your bra. He breathes a raspy fuck as he palms your tits reverently, the contact making you shudder.

‘Actually, I was going to have a sit down with you. A little birdy told me some outrageous story about the DEA attaché endorsing wiretapping,’ you reply teasingly, wrestling with the small buttons on his shirt.

Javier chuckles, clever fingers sliding down your back and undoing the zipper on your pencil skirt, which pools about your now bare feet after kicking off your sensible low heels. ‘Fucking Stoddard. I knew he'd tattle on me.’

‘You better come prepared with a good defence, Peña,’ you quip, letting him spin you around and ease you into his seat, the leather still warm under your bare thighs. His pink shirt hangs open as he looms over you, so broad that he’s the only thing you see.

He hums and kisses down the side of your neck, stopping to suck on your pulse point. ‘How about a bit of incentive to go easy on me instead, hmm?’

You arch an eyebrow while he gets on one knee, then the other, but there’s no denying the wild rabbiting of your pulse despite your banter. ‘Bribery? Just one of the dirty tricks up your sleeves, Agent Peña?’

He peels your panties down the length of your thighs unhurriedly, smirking at the way you bite into your bottom lip as the scrap of fabric makes its descent. He hooks your right leg on his shoulder, then the left one, opening you up to his dark gaze as he smirks, ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet, cariño.’

It’s been too long. Too fucking long since you’ve been with anyone. Your hips arch clean off the leather seat at the first broad stroke of his tongue, confidently charting its way all the way up your folds. His weathered palms hold your thighs firmly apart as you writhe in his grip because it’s too much.

‘Javier,’ you breathe, meeting his almost cocky gaze as he stares up at you. He suckles wetly at your clit, lips puckering, and you buck hard into his mouth.

Granting you a brief reprieve, he moves off you with a wet smack of his lips and teases, ‘Am I making a good case for myself?’

‘Clearly not good enough if I’m still speaking in complete sentences,’ you somehow manage to counter.

He grins at you - a real one that lifts both corners of his mouth and chases away the shadows of his demons, and it has absolutely no business making your heart lurch the way that it does. ‘Touché, cariño.’

There’s no polite way of putting this. Javier eats you, meticulous and sloppy in turn, until your slick and his spit trail down the inside of your legs, and you feel the leather growing slippery underneath your bare ass. You can hear yourself over the roar of the plane engines, and you babble incoherently when he pushes his tongue into your pussy. ‘Javier, Javi -’

‘Gonna cum for me, cariño?’ He slurs as he sinks one, and then two fingers into you, biting out a filthy groan at how wet you are.

You nod desperately, finding purchase on his broad shoulders. ‘I’m so close, please -’

Pumping his fingers inside you until you squelch around them, he ducks down and laves your clit in earnest, pushing you until there’s nothing left - no air, no sound, no time and space - all the oxygen is sucked out of your lungs and your ears pop, and you cum so fucking hard with your hands tangled in his curls and his name on your lips.

‘Fuck, you’re so beautiful,’ he murmurs almost absent-mindedly, chasing your skin when you try to push him away. His moustache scrapes your thighs and sends a shudder running through you as you catch your breath. ‘I’m an idiot for waiting this long.’

Gently setting your legs down - not that you can feel them anyway - Javier turns his face to his right shoulder, and you watch in rapture as he smears the slick coating his mouth and chin onto his pink shirt, the wet spot staining the fabric.

Your lip curls in giddy amusement as you think to yourself - you look good on him.

Then he leans up to kiss you, and your head spins at the taste of yourself on his tongue and your scent on his moustache.

Pushing back the loose locks that now curl against his forehead, you sass, ‘That’s one trick. Are you going to show me another, Agent Peña?’

Without warning, his hands slide under your bare buttocks and he lifts you clean off the seat. You laugh and close your grip around his upper arms, feeling his muscles flex under your palms. You know without looking how his biceps must be straining against the short sleeves of his shirt.

He falls heavily into the chair with you straddling him, and you protest, ‘Stop, Javi, I’m going to make a mess of your jeans.’

‘I want you to make a mess,’ he declares in his rich baritone. ‘Want your pussy to soak my jeans, cariño.’

Desire flashes hot and fast up and down your spine. ‘But Javi, I just came -’ you break off as he grasps your hips and settles you onto his right thigh.

‘You can cum again,’ he shrugs with a cocksure definitiveness, coaxing a moan from you when he shifts and your folds drag along the denim. ‘Ride me, cariño.’

‘But what about you?’ You trace one palm down his bare chest and soft stomach to rest on the prominent bulge straining against the front of his tight jeans. He chokes when you give his erection a bold squeeze through the denim, which has you grinning smugly.

Covering your hand with his, he brings it up to kiss it softly. ‘Another time, it’s been a long day. Now - can I get back to making it up to you?’

Winding your arms around his neck, you rock against his thigh, feeling the wet imprint of the slick you leave behind on the coarse fabric as you move back and forth. His palms squeeze the swell of your ass reassuringly but loose enough so that you can find your own rhythm.

Javier patiently mouths his way down your neck and further, sucking hard on one nipple and then the other, making you throw your head back in a gasp.

‘You look so good wearing my jacket with your gorgeous tits out,’ he praises you, letting go of your hips to push your breasts together and laps at the soft flesh with his tongue.

‘Javier,’ you whine, tipping forward to bury your face in the long line of his neck.

The same neck you’ve sometimes wanted to wring in the heat of the moment, but also caught yourself staring at when he cradles the office phone in the crook of his shoulder. You can taste the salt on his skin - sweat and sea breeze and sunshine - and when the breath catches in his throat, your hips stutter, your orgasm so close to the surface.

As if sensing you need a bit of help, he whispers into your ear. ‘I can feel you so wet for me through my jeans, cariño. You’re doing so good for me.’

Feeling his nails dig into you as he guides you over his thigh, you whimper needily, ‘I’m so close.’

‘I know you are. You can do it - cum on my thigh.’

‘Oh fuck,’ you choke, pressing your forehead into his as you begin to shake, and he brushes his nose soothingly against yours. The impending vertigo sends you crashing into him, hands trembling on his shoulders, torn between clinging on and letting go. ‘Javi - I’m cumming, oh my god -’

And then he’s lunging towards you in a deep kiss, tongues tangling as you break again, a moan in his windpipe when he feels your pussy leak into his jeans as it clenches and clenches around nothing. Needing air, you pull back to slump bonelessly against him, panting hard into his neck, his palms drawing circles over your back.

You only realise you’ve drifted off when a sudden drop in altitude wakes you, and the PA system cackles to life with the captain’s ten-minute warning to landing. From the corner of your eye, you catch Javier watching you with a lopsided smile.

You duck your head sheepishly. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.’

‘Well, you did have a 4am wakeup call,’ he quips.

Sitting back on your haunches, you do up your bra and then the buttons on your now very crumpled shirt. Easing off him on wobbly legs, you pick up your panties and skirt from the floor and dress yourself quickly, smoothing out the wrinkles as best as you can. You smile at Javier, watching him he button up his pink shirt, stopping at the fourth one as always.

Stepping in between his spread legs, hands on his upper thighs, you press a soft kiss to his lips. You smile and drag a finger over the wet spot you left on his jeans. ‘That was fun.’

The corners of his eyes crinkle and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. ‘That might be an understatement of criminal proportions.’

You make to take off his jacket, but Javier shakes his head, tugging on the collar so it sits squarely on your shoulders. ‘Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.’

You can’t tell if it’s actually warmer when you step off the plane or if it’s the afterglow, but you keep the jacket on. Your respective cars are waiting on the airstrip next to each other, and Javier loads your weekender bag into the backseat before opening the door on the driver’s side, shutting it after you climb in.

You palm the steering wheel self-consciously as you stare at each other in a slightly awkward lull, before clearing your throat. ‘So, 9am sharp tomorrow at the 3rd floor conference room, Agent Peña?’

Javier smirks, but his eyes are warm as he shifts on his feet, leaning one elbow on the open window and cocks his head to one side. ‘Depends. Will you be wearing my letterman jacket?’

A bark of laughter escapes you. ‘Your letterman jacket? Should I pick up matching friendship bracelets for us before our meeting?’

With a lighthearted shake of his head, Javier half-turns to leave before stopping abruptly. Tapping two fingers on the window frame, he hesitates briefly, before looking up at you with earnest eyes, his voice quiet and almost solemn in its sincerity. ‘Thank you.’

Watching him go, your chest blooms with warmth at the eight letters and two little words you’ve waited six years to hear.

At twenty-seven minutes to nine the next morning, you’re flinging open the front door of your apartment, car keys jingling and thermos balanced precariously in one hand, when a flash of white on navy catches your attention.

For a long moment, you stand off dramatically with the jacket draped across the back of a kitchen chair, the letters DEA staring back at you - before you reach for it and shrug it on with a silly grin.

What can you say? You’ve always had a thing for letterman jackets.

More notes: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments and reblogs are always encouraged and so appreciated ❤️

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics as always 💕

#javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #javi peña x you #javi peña x reader #Javi Peña x fem!reader #Javi Peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x female reader #narcos fanfiction #queue

[laenordeservedbetter]

heyy so hear me out obsessed ghostface Sam...

But I Love You!

Words: 2.1k

Pairing: Ghostface!Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Sam would do everything in her power to make sure that you remain hers no matter who she has to stab in the way.

Warnings: (18+), killing, violence, manipulation, cussing, suggestive themes, unhinged Sam(?), confusing ending, not proofread (i had a long day and i'm tired). lmk if I missed any.

The italics in the first few scenes with reader & sam are Sam's inner dialogue/thoughts. This doesn't follow the scream timeline. Here, Sam never left Woodsboro, Tara's still in school, and Sam became Ghostface.

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

—

It started with an attraction or in simpler terms, a crush - the foundation of all things relationship related.

You turned up to her workplace by chance, caught up in the middle of the storm. It was common sense to stop driving and find a secure place to stay for the meantime. The diner Sam worked at was the closest. That’s how you found yourself acting as the cloud that would pour water on a certain place. Your day had been terrible. You were late to work, customers were more irate today than the previous days, and you forgot to bring your umbrella before leaving. Clothes soaking wet and droplets of water pouring on the floor, Sam was bound to notice you.

At first, her blood boiled. After all, she’d have to be the one to clean up this mess. But when she took a glance at you, her heart skipped a beat. The makeup on your face was smudged, your hair a tangled mess, but damn, “You look beautiful.” Sam whispered.

Your head snapped up, noticing someone else’s presence in the room for the first time. “What?”

“I said, ‘how can I help you?’” Sam silently cursed herself for slipping up.

You don’t notice the lie. “I’m looking for a place to stay for an hour or so. Just until the rain calms down. And maybe food?” The woman has an unreadable expression on her face. “Don’t worry, I have money, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The woman smiles kindly, “Oh, I wasn’t thinking that.”

“Oh? What were you thinking, then?”

“That you might need a change of clothes.” Sam gestures to your outfit.

“You’re probably right.” You say, “Sadly, I don’t have anything else to change into.”

Sam bites her lip, weighing out her options. “We have a spare uniform in the back.” She relents.

“That’s kind of you, but wouldn’t your boss be mad?”

Ugh. Roger.

“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him. The only thing you should focus on right now is making sure you don’t get sick.” Sam walks to the room that says ‘staff only’ and comes back less than a minute later to hand you the clothes. “Here. You can change to the bathroom over there.” She points to the lavatory.

“Thank you so much. You’re an angel.” You say, taking your time to go to the bathroom to avoid slipping.

Once Sam hears the door close, she looks to your car parked outside. She can’t let you leave. Not yet.

She grabs her umbrella hidden under the counter and makes her way outside, making sure the bathroom door is still closed before popping the hood of the car open, removing the rotor piece. “Nice and easy.” Sam mumbles, pocketing the piece. She rushes back in the diner, hoping to be there before you can question her whereabouts.

You exit the lavatory wearing the uniform given to you by the kind stranger.

It fits her perfectly. “All good?” Sam asks, handing you a towel.

“Yes, yes. I can’t thank you enough. Not many people would go out of their way to help a stranger.” You shiver, putting the towel around you like a cloak.

“I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”

“Please. Call me Y/n.”

“You have a pretty name.” She says.

“Not as pretty as yours. . . Samantha.” You squint your eyes to read the name on the tag of her blouse.

Sam’s brows furrow, “How did you know my name?”

“It’s on your tag.” You point out.

Sam laughs, like, really laughs. The laugh-at-your-crush’s-jokes-even-if-you-don’t-find-it-funny kind of laugh. What is happening? “Fuck. Sorry. I’m not used to pretty girls complimenting me.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” You take a seat at one of the stools near the counter, smirking, “You must have dozens of women and/or men lining up at your door. With that face and kind heart, anyone could swoon.”

“Nope. Trust me. There’s no one.”

“More chances for me.” You do a fist bump in the air, not caring how stupid you looked. “Yes!”

You see Sam’s eyes widen as she tries to look away.

She’ll be the death of me.

-

As predicted, your car wouldn’t start. Sam gladly offered you a ride to your apartment, where she then asked for your number. You had no hesitation and gave it, thinking her intentions were pure. And they were.

Mostly.

-

That was eleven months ago.

You and Sam are together now and the crush bloomed into something more.

She was the perfect girlfriend. Good-hearted, gentle, caring. You thought you had hit the jackpot until the cracks in your relationship began to show themselves.

At first, it was the little things you noticed whenever you were together in public. Sam always had an arm around you. It didn’t matter if it was your waist or your shoulders or locking your arms together. She wanted to make sure the world knew that you were hers, which was fine. She wasn’t ashamed of you. Though, whenever someone looks at you too long or if they flirt with you despite Sam being there, her grip on your body tightens a little, but not too much to the point where it hurts.

The more time you spent with Sam, the more your friends started to get worried. It’s not healthy, they said. She’s keeping you from seeing us!, they argued. As soon as you shared their worries to Sam, she took effort in dispelling your doubts, telling you that your friends were envious of what you have and that it was normal to spend more time with your girlfriend than your friends, added by reassurance that there was nothing to worry about.

You chalked it off as Sam trying to look out for you.

After all, she is your girlfriend.

Then, there was that moment at a party.

It was a gathering for work. A room full of rich snobs and picture perfect careers. You couldn’t stand it, but your attendance was required. The only upside was that the company allowed you to bring a plus one. Naturally, you asked Sam and she said yes.

Even though you were elated that she agreed to go with you, you didn’t consider the possibility of not being able to talk to her much throughout the night because of strangers chatting you up. Some of them had the intention of asking you out. Though, upon seeing Sam’s deathly stare, they backed off. All but one.

The guy, Michael (tall, brunette, green eyes), would not stop leering at you with a mischievous grin. You felt sick to your stomach, uncomfortable by the way he looked at you, but not being able to do anything about it since he wasn’t actively trying to pursue you. Still, it disgusted you.

Sam’s hold on your waist remains, her jaw clenching, a clear sign that she was getting antsy. “Can we leave?”

You nod, “Yes. They’ve all seen me already, I think. We can finally go.” Despite the looks given to you by Michael, you tried your best to not let it dampen your mood, smiling at your girlfriend.

“Good. Come on.” Sam says, leading you to her car without so much as a smile.

“Hey, Sam, are you okay?” You make her look at you, holding her face in your hand.

Her gaze softens, “Yes, I am. Don’t worry about me. Are you okay?”

“Other than the way his eyes made me feel, I’m fine. I’ll probably forget about it when we watch a movie when we arrive back home.” You assure.

“Who says we’re watching a movie?” Sam’s lips quirk upwards, hands wrapping around your waist as she pulls you to her while your arms move to her shoulders.

“Well, what do you have in mind, Miss Carpenter?”

She gives you a peck on the lips. “It’s better if I show you.”

You ran inside the car in a hurry to get back to your apartment and let Sam do the things she wants to you, the awful looks by Michael replaced by the desire pooling in you when your lover teasingly runs a hand between your thighs.

Again, it was fine. Everything was as it should be. Perfect.

But what came after? Not so much.

-

After you fell asleep, Sam carefully shuffled out of bed. She grabbed her dark cloak and Ghostface mask from the closet, running her fingers over the outlines of the eyes, sighing in relief. It felt good to pick up the mask again. Lately, she hasn’t been going out in the streets as much, having you to thank for that. As luck would have it, you gave her a mission (although inadvertently) at the same time the urge to kill became intolerable.

The job was easily done. Sam found Michael still at the party, waiting for the right moment. Michael went out the house, going for the alley since the bathroom was occupied. That’s when Sam made her move. Michael did not fight back, the alcohol in his veins dampening his ability to form coherent thoughts (assuming that he is better sober than he is drunk). Behind her mask, Sam was bursting with glee. Oh, how she missed it. There was nothing to compare to the feeling of excitement as you witness someone bleed out before you and the satisfaction that comes with it -- well, maybe nothing except you, her girl.

Sam opens the door to her room, anticipating your body still on the bed, sound asleep, but to her shock, you’re situated on the couch, both eyes on the bloodied mask in her hands.

“Sam, why is there blood on that?” Deep down, you knew the answer. You want to hear the confirmation first before you do anything that could potentially put your life in danger.

“I-it’s paint, baby. Tara’s got an art project for school. I-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. I’m not five. I know blood when I see it! That is blood!” You point out, frustrated. “And what kind of excuse is an art project?! My neighbor’s cat could make a better excuse.”

“Baby,” Sam’s tone is dangerously low as she stalks closer towards you. “I did it for for you -- for us. The way he was looking at you… I didn’t like it one bit, so I removed his eyes.”

You get up from your seat, going to the farthest corner in the room away from Sam. She does a gesture to signal that she’ll go towards you and you put a hand up in warning. “Stay the fuck away from me! You’re mad!”

“Oh, please. Don’t we all go a little mad sometimes?” She retorted, ignoring your protests.

You flinch from her touch when she touches the side of your face with crimson colored hands. “You’re sick, Sam. I’m calling the cops.”

“But I love you!” Sam yells, her voice breaking at the end. “Can’t you see? I did it for you.”

“You keep saying that, but do you really mean it? ‘Cause if you did this for me, you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” You spat, punching her abdomen, followed by a kick to the stomach.

Sam doubles over, giving you an opportunity to run, to call the cops, to do something. “Honey, please. Let’s talk about this! I’m sorry, okay? You know how much I love you. Please stop this. You’re hurting me.”

“I am?” You question in dubiety. Sam is clutching her stomach, tears pouring like a water fountain. That’s the moment it hits you. “I am.” Letting your guard down, you run to Sam, clinging to her like a lifeline, your last chance. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

She shushes you, “Hey, it’s okay, I know.” You close your eyes shut as she presses a kiss to your temple. “I love you so much.”

You let her pull you in an embrace, holding your body tightly. How you love her so. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, saying those three words back. She did what was best for the both of you. Nothing can harm you ever again so long as you stay by her side.

“My perfect girl.” Sam whispers. “Do you trust me?”

There was no getting out of this. You’re in it for the long run now. “Trust is a tough thing to come by these days.” You sport a grin against her neck that vanishes quickly, for you don’t want Sam to recognize it. She thinks she has you wrapped around her finger, but she doesn’t know the truth of it. It may be like a game for her, but not for you.

It’s not game over.

Not yet.

#samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #scream #scream franchise

[petersbaby]

I’m kinda fucked up rn, I’m posting this anyways because I know my Gareth girlies are out there and I love you guys

7 minutes to forever - Gareth Emerson x Reader

HE IS AGED UP TO 18

Warnings: Gareth is a virgin, boner talk, male masturbation, smut, first time sex, mutual pining, awkwardness, I don’t like talking about condoms they gross me out but I tried to use one for once

-

It was a small party of sorts at Steve’s house, and of course Eddie was going to be there because that’s his boyfriend.

Eddie tried to invite all the people from the club, so his friends can meet Steve and Steve’s friends, hoping everyone could kind of merge and coexist but you and Gareth were the only two to show up out of the group.

The rest were just a few of Steve and Eddie’s mutual friends, including Robin. Lately, Eddie’s been on your ass about a certain something and he sees it as some sort of sign that you and Gareth both came.

“It’s been way too long. Just go fucking tell him.” Eddie begs you.

“Tell him fucking what, exactly??”

“That you literally want to fuck him. Have you seen this dude? Zero chance he’ll reject you. He’s such a virgin he’d probably cream his pants just from you speaking to him.”

“Eddie, EW.”

“I’m just saying.”

“That’s just it, I don’t wanna like… fucking corrupt him.”

“He wants you to corrupt him.”

“What??”

“Yep.” He shrugs. “He wants you too, it’s so PAINFULLY obvious to everyone except you guys. We’re all tired of hearing about it.” He gestures to the rest of your shared friends.

“No, I- I don’t believe you. He doesn’t like me, that’s why I haven’t fucking said anything.” You whisper, now.

“Alright.” Eddie announces a little louder than he needs to be, and gets up. He grabs your wrist and starts pulling you.

“No, no, no. Eddie, stop, I’m so serious.”

And now you were standing in front of him.

“Gareth, here. Talk to her.”

You start to try and run the other way, away from this confrontational situation, but Eddie catches you.

“Jesus Christ, it’s like taking care of literal children. If you won’t say it, I will. Y/N, Gareth has a huge crush on you. Gareth, Y/N is practically obsessed with you, won’t shut up about how cute you are.”

You put your head in your hands.

“There, I said it, now be normal human beings.” He says, patting you both on the shoulder and walking away, leaving just the two of you standing near the kitchen while everyone else was in the living room, in another world.

“I’m sorry. About him, uh, yeah. I don’t know why he did that.” You say quietly, looking at the ground.

“Was that true?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s a relief. I don’t think either of us were gonna say something.”

“Yeah, probably not.” You laugh.

-

“Okay, so we’re locked in here.” You sigh.

“Yeah..” he agrees.

Eddie basically shoved you two into a hall closet, yelling about “seven minutes in heaven,” which was a stupid game thing you thought only middle schoolers did. You protested, but he was very insistent, and you gave up. He was just fucking with you two, being extra mischievous tonight for some reason.

“You know you don’t have to listen to him, right? You don’t need to do anything, you know, sexually. It’s perfectly fine to not want to.”

“I- well, I want to.”

“Why don’t you then?”

“Don’t know. Nervous, I guess. Just really nervous.”

“Would it help if I made the first move?”

He nods.

You lean in quickly after that to press your lips against his. Even though he knew it was coming, it still shocked him, enough to jump a little a draw back.

“No? It’s okay.” You try to reassure him despite all the mixed signals you were getting from this boy.

“Yes. Please. I’m sorry about that.”

“You do it then. I know you can.” You smile.

This time he leans in, despite his anxiety screaming in his brain. It’s sweet, so sweet, and his lips are soft and gentle. You reach up to rest your hand on the side of his face, lightly rubbing your thumb against his cheek while you kiss him.

His hands find your waist and rest there while you try to let him lead so you don’t overwhelm him. But soon, he suddenly pushes you against the wall. Not too rough but not as gentle as he had been, but you liked it either way, draping your arms over his shoulders.

This was something you’d always wanted, to kiss him, and you never thought it would happen in a million years. You thought he probably thought of you as just one of the guys, but apparently he didn’t. He adored you, but he’d never say that to you out loud.

You make out with him to the point you almost can’t breathe but couldn’t bare breaking the kiss to get air. You fingers tangled in his soft, curly hair, accidentally pulling it a little forgetting that to some people that just hurts. He didn’t say anything, though, and you just continued running your fingers through his locks at the back of his head.

“Seven minutes are up!!” Eddie calls, walking towards the closet to free you.

“Shit, um..” Gareth looks down, which was a mistake because it made you look down too.

“Oh.”

He got a boner just from kissing you, but now that your time is up, he doesn’t know what to do.

“Sorry.” You whispered.

“It’s not your fault.” He laughed a little.

“So, what’d you two get up to in here?” Eddie asks, after swinging the door open. Gareth moves quickly past him and into the bathroom as swiftly as he can.

“You can’t just put people in closets, Eddie.”

“I did, though, so yeah. I can. Please tell me you at least kissed.”

“That is SO none of your business.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Finally.” He exclaims the last word. You walk back with him to where everyone was gathered in the living room and once you sat down, you started daydreaming about what Gareth’s doing in there. You know what he’s doing, realistically, but you couldn’t stop imagining it.

In the bathroom, he stands in front of the sink with his dick in his hand, desperately fucking his fist just needing to get this out of his system. Instead of having to see his reflection in the mirror in front of him, he shut his eyes and thought of you.

God, all the things he wanted to do with you, to do to you. But just then, the way you kissed him deep, the way your fingers tangled in and pulled on his hair, the way he had you up against the wall. He finishes quickly thanks to these thoughts and mental images, release spurting out into the sink and the last bit of it dripping onto his hand.

He tries to catch his breath, washing his hands and cleaning up his mess, then looked at himself. He fixed his hair to look as normal as possible, cooled off, and went back to join everyone.

“Where the hell have you been?” Steve asks, only just noticing the boy’s absence.

“I had to use the bathroom, okay?” He answers defensively.

“Okay, jeez.” Steve said, raising his hands.

Gareth finds that his previous seat had been taken, and looks around nervously. You lock eyes with him and pat the place beside you on the couch. He smiles shyly and comes to sit.

As you all watched the movie, and no one was paying attention, you grabbed his hand and held it in yours, scooting closer. You leaned your head to rest on his shoulder, and he smiled secretly.

He made you feel all warm and happy on the inside, just like the perfect boy. That night really solidified your feelings for him, and you hope it did to him too. You thought about him a lot. Were you on his mind too?

-

Well, maybe tonight you could find out. DND was done and a couple of people were going back to Eddie’s for some beers or whatever alcohol his uncle had around. It was a Friday, after all.

When you got dropped off, it looked like everyone was already there. That meant he was too. He didn’t have a car, so he had to have ridden with somebody. Why did you have butterflies in your stomach at the thought of going into Eddie’s trailer? Since when is that a big deal?

You pushed it aside, the nervousness, and stepped in anyway.

“HEY, look who’s here. Thought you weren’t coming for a while there.” Eddie says.

“Sorry, I had to go home and change and everything, you know..”

“Alright, so… drinks. We’ve got two options. You ready?”

“So excited.” You say sarcastically.

“Beer or vodka.”

“Oh, god. Terrible. They’re both terrible. A beer, I guess.”

He laughs and gets you one. You head into the living room again where everyone is, taking a sip of the shitty and not very cold beer.

The couch is full so you take a seat on the floor, it looked like they were all passing a joint around. When it comes to you, you decline, giving it to the next person. The next person was Gareth, who also declined.

“You guys are total losers.” Eddie said, calling you out for not participating.

“I’m not a loser, I just don’t wanna be high.” Gareth says defensively.

“Yeah, me neither. Realistically, I don’t even want this beer. It’s gross, Eddie.”

“Well when none of us are 21 yet, you take what you can get.”

-

“I’m tired of sitting on the floor. Can me and Gare go hang out in your room?”

“Go have fun, you crazy kids. We’ll be in here, watching TV and talking VERY loudly.” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes, walking back to Eddie’s bedroom while Gareth follows and shuts the door behind him.

“Listen, I’m not trying to push anything on you. I didn’t want time alone to do that stuff, I just wanted to spend time with you.” You say, sitting down on the bed.

“Yeah, okay. I wanna spend time with you too.” He laughs. So cute.

“Cuddle?”

He laughs, blushing a little. “Sure.”

You lay down together, becoming intertwined, resting your head on his chest. You stay that way for a while, you could’ve stayed that way forever.

“Hey,” he says after about 15 minutes, and you lift up, resting on your elbow.

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Of course.”

His lips come to meet yours and they melt together, and suddenly so do your bodies. They press against each other, radiating heat and warmth. He wants more, he wants more so bad, but he doesn’t want to push it and he also just doesn’t know how to ask. His hand is on your waist again, hovering slightly.

“Could I- would it be okay if-“ he starts.

“Gareth?”

“Yeah?” He asks anxiously.

“You can do literally whatever you want to me.” You assure him.

“Jesus Christ.”

Immediately hard as a rock, immediately entranced. It was true, in your defense, you liked him *so* much,

“I mean it.” You whisper.

His hand starts to move, ending up on your ass, squeezing tightly. It also pulled you impossibly closer to him, bodies pressed together. You put your hand on his face again, holding it sweetly but firmly while you kiss.

Your tongues explored each other’s mouths again, more familiar this time, and his hand moves up to squeeze one of your tits while the other arm props him up on his side. He needed more than this, he needed to feel your skin.

He slipped his hand into your sweater from the bottom, moving up until he felt your bare breast which he wasn’t fully expecting. He thought you were wearing something, anything underneath but you weren’t.

His cool fingers run over your hard nipples, making you gasp a bit, and so he goes farther and pinches one of them which makes you squeak in surprise. He just continued to feel your torso, hands running all over your stomach and chest and hips and tits.

You reached for the bottom hem of the sweater and pulled it off over your head, letting him be able to see what he’s doing, and his eyes grew wide as saucers. His eyes wandered shamelessly, curiously, all over, nearly burning a hole in you.

“You… you like them?” You ask, giggling a little bit. He was so beyond fascinated and you could see that.

“Yes, holy shit, yes.” He responds almost under his breath.

“Gare?”

“Hm?”

You take some of his soft locks in your hand and guide him down, wanting him to try sucking on or licking your nipples. He does, latching on quickly, expertly.

You start to melt now, holding onto his hair while you moan quietly. He climbs on top of you and brings his mouth to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. He gets the idea to move up to your neck, and starts kissing there.

This is where you totally fall apart, your weakness. Your noises encourage him to kiss your neck with more passion and fervor and you can feel his erection pressed against your thigh.

You reach down to grab onto it, palm it, and he sucks a particularly harsh mark onto your neck in the sweet spot when you do. You’ll definitely have a bruise, but you don’t mind at all.

“Fuck,” he breathes into your shoulder, stopped for a moment.

“You okay?” You check in, pushing him up so you can look him in the eyes.

“Think I’m just… god, I’m nervous. That’s so embarrassing.”

“No, that’s okay.” You reassure. “What do you want?”

He burns red. He’s not gonna be able to say it out loud himself.

“Do you want to have sex? Be honest.”

“Yes.”

“Good, because I do too. But Gare, we can stop at any moment. Just tell me, okay?”

“Okay.” He breathes.

You reach down to untie the strings on the waistband of your sweatpants and pull them off your body, leaving you in pink panties in front of him.

You feel him staring again, at the sight of you anxiously squeezing your legs together and waiting for him to make the next move.

You were so turned on it was unbelievable, with him have not even touched you there yet. You were sure you were soaking. He fumbles with his button and zipper, looking behind him.

“Yes, the door’s locked.”

“Oh. Good.” He half-laughed, because that is indeed what he was checking for. He takes his pants off and climbs back on top of you, only in his t shirt and boxers now.

He slots himself between your legs after you happily spread them for him. You could feel his cock so much better now, rock solid and a really nice size. He ruts his hips up against you, only the barriers of your respective underwear blocking the way.

He buries his face between your shoulder and neck, kissing on it again, and his hard cock continually presses against your cunt. You accidentally moan, a moan too loud for the situation, but you just have to hope no one heard it because you couldn’t help it.

“Shh,” he soothes, covering your mouth with his.

“Sorry,” you whisper, into the kiss, smiling. You can feel him smiling too.

“Should- can- what should we…”

“It’s up to you, remember? Whatever you want, however you wanna do it.” You remind him, trying to give him some confidence.

“Right. Can I take these off, then?” He asks, slipping his finger into the waistband of your panties.

“Yes, please do.”

You didn’t want to come off as desperate and impatient, but you were growing to be. It wasn’t his fault, though, you had to remind yourself he’s never done this before. He does, pulling the fabric down your legs and leaving you bare. Quickly after that, he pulls his own underwear off.

“I’m really wet, so whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

“Oh, shit, okay. Wait, don’t we need a condom?”

“Eddie should have some, if you want.”

You didn’t need one, being on birth control, but you wanted to do whatever made him more comfortable. He digs around in the nightstand and quickly finds some, taking one and putting it on.

“Okay.” He repeats, finally ready. You smile as if to tell him ‘go ahead’. You immediately learn that he isn’t familiar with easing into it, as he fills you up completely right away. This made you gasp, but luckily not too loud.

“Ohh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He groans.

“So good, you feel so good. Start moving, baby boy.”

That slipped out. That did slip out but he did not seem to mind the pet name at all, only listening to what you said and starting to thrust in and out.

You bite down on your bottom lip to keep quiet, only letting whimpers and soft moans out every now and then. You looked him in the eyes longingly, even though he was right there, and you felt yourself starting to love him in that moment.

He lets his dominant hand roam up to your throat, only to rest there. Thinking. You nod, reading his mind, answering his silent question and he squeezes gently. Soft but intoxicating. He continues to choke you with his big hand wrapped around your neck and leans down to kiss you again.

He finds a rhythm he likes, and starts to fuck you with more confidence. He wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but he still stretched you out and reached pretty deep inside.

Amazingly full of him, you still keep your noises quiet as much as you can. You couldn’t believe it, Gareth, you and Gareth were having sex. If the you from a month ago heard that, she would say “no fucking way.” But here you were. He wasn’t being super vocal, so you only hoped he felt good too. Damn, it would be nice to hear him though.

“Still okay?” You ask.

“The best.” He replies, and you smile.

He moves his hand from your throat back to fondling your breast, other one holding up his body weight over you.

He ends up getting quite aggressive while chasing his high, slamming into you quickly and filling the room with the sounds of sex. You think back to what Eddie said about watching TV and talking loudly and you stop worrying about that.

You were close, walls fluttering around him, but you knew you most likely wouldn’t get to finish. You’d just do it yourself later when you got home. The memory of this will be more than enough to masturbate to for a really long time, you think.

Coincidentally, he starts getting sloppy, thrusting haphazardly and clearly searching for something. Determined, he soon found it, cock twitching inside of you as he filled the condom and let out a long string of curse words and groans when he came.

He once again leant forward, resting his head on your shoulder for a moment. Neither of you wanted to move, and the pressure of him on top of you was so comforting, but eventually he had to.

-

Once all was done, you lay together, just as you had started out.

“Do you… like, actually like me?” He asks, head turning to you.

“No shit, Gareth. Yes, I like you.” You say sarcastically. You hope it didn’t come out mean. Thankfully it didn’t, because he laughed.

“So, you can totally tell me to fuck off if this is stupid, but… do you want to be together? You and me? Or is that stupid-“

You shut him up with a kiss, because he would’ve rambled on forever and you already had the answer.

“Yes. I’d like that.” You smile.

“Oh, okay. Cool, cool.” He laughs, feeling a huge weight off his shoulders. You melt into his arms, but you get interrupted when he suddenly realizes something.

“Oh, shit. I’m terrible.” He says, out of nowhere.

“You are not. Why?”

“You were supposed to… finish….too. You didn’t- I did something wrong.” He says, covering his face with his hands.

“I don’t care about that. It’s okay, I promise. If it bothers you that much, you can next time. I’ll help you.”

“Next time…” he repeats idly.

“Yeah? I just kinda assumed there’d be a next time..”

“Yes. No, you’re right, there will be. I just liked the sound of that.”

#gareth emerson x reader #gareth x reader #gareth smut #gareth emerson imagine #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth emerson smut #gareth the great #gareth stranger things #gareth emerson #gareth emerson fanfic #stranger things smut

[justmediocrewriting]

“One more time,” {v.s}

Warnings/tags: explicit sexual content, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, vaginal sex, kind of dub-con, bigdick!sanji, dominant!sanji, pussydrunk!sanji, also rough!sanji, creampies, doggystyle, unprotected sex, very slight breeding kink, belly bulging, pushy!sanji, 100 follower nsfw dialogue prompt special

Genre: smut

Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Prompt: “Come one more time for me. I know you got it in you.” (#11 from the list)

{{:================================:}}

Sanji’s hips rocked against yours at a slow, lazy pace, and his arm tightened around your shuddering middle to support you in place as you rode out your orgasm.

How many times had you cum now? You’d lost track, your foggy brain unable to supply the number in your exhausted, fucked-out state. Sanji’s chest was firm and warm against your clammy back, his weight balanced delicately as not to crush you beneath his bulk but still retain the flush closeness he currently desired. A gentle hand brushed across your cheek seconds before deft fingers swiped a strand of hair from your sweat-slicked forehead.

“One more time, love? Please?”

Sanji’s plea was breathy and hot against the back of your ear, planting wet kisses along the skin of your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, your jawline, everywhere and anywhere that his lips could easily reach. Sanji’s hips retained that slow rocking, but the muscles of his thighs were tense against yours, a physical manifestation of the effort he was putting in to hold himself back from fucking into your cunt roughly.

Your heart stuttered and your swollen walls fluttered around his thick cock, the wet dragging nearly too much, the stretch and friction bordering on painful now, and you choked back a wet sob. Sanji had already pulled so many orgasms from you; both of your thighs were sticky and slick from your combined spend, the copious amounts vocalizing the connection of your bodies with wet, sloppy squelches. Your cunt was sensitive, your clit throbbed, and your swollen walls resisted the intrusive stretch of Sanji’s cock in a way that was near agonizing.

You wouldn’t be able to take anymore.

“I-I can’t, Sanji…” you whimpered, cunt begging for mercy, your body aching to depart from Sanji’s and find some relief from that burn, but your muscles were far too liquified to even attempt to escape; even if they weren’t, you knew you wouldn’t get far, not with the constriction of Sanji’s tight grip around your middle — when Sanji got like this, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d let you go; not until he was satisfied.

“You can, baby, I know you can.” Sanji refuted, lips and breath ghosting against your shoulder. Sanji’s hips bucked forward, the action pulling a soft, pained yelp from your lips as his tip crushed itself against your cervix, the tight ring of muscle the sorest part of your cunt from the multitude of abusive punches Sanji had drove into it with his previously rough thrusts. Tears stung behind your eyes and you swallowed down another sob.

“I’m t-tired, Sanji. Please, let’s just c-call it a night.” You all but pleaded, voice croaky and hoarse, arms wobbling in place as you tried desperately to maintain your balance. Sanji slid a hand down the side of your face, the stroke loving and gentle, up until the point it reached the base of your throat, with which it gripped in a firm hold. It wasn’t nearly enough pressure to cut off your air supply, but it was enough to assert his presence of command — and despite the burning pain, your walls throbbed around his cock with arousal, those burned-out embers flaring ever so slightly back to life in your gut at the show of subtle display of dominance over you.

“Come just one more time for me, baby. I know you’ve got it in you.” Sanji’s voice was little more than a husky, rumbling whisper against your jaw, breath fanning hot over the skin and immediately drawing a shiver from your body. Your heart sunk into your stomach at the tone of his voice; that very tone spelled pain for you, as it meant Sanji wouldn’t take no for an answer — he wanted this, and he was adamant in getting it, no matter how many times you refused. Your cunt was on fire, painfully sensitive, but if all Sanji wanted was one more…

“J-just once more?” You softly whimpered, heart swooping with trepidation at the feel of his lips pulling into a grin against your jaw. The large hand around your throat loosened its grip ever so slightly, and Sanji roved his lips up to plant a wet kiss against your temple, words rumbling with satisfaction as they fell,

“That’s my good girl. One more time, that’s all I want, baby.”

One more time, you’d just have to bear it for one more, and then Sanji would be satisfied; and your cunt would finally get its much needed reprieve and recovery. With a shaky breath you nodded and did what you could to prepare yourself for the oncoming onslaught, but your tired body had no way to truly put up the appropriate defenses in time —

The hand around your throat tightened exponentially, stopping the scream in your throat from the harsh sting of Sanji pulling out and slamming back in again, again and again, his cock repeatedly beating against your cervix with the force of a battering ram. The momentum upset your balance, and your arms buckled, forcing you into a position where your chest and cheek were pressed into the floor while your hips remained in the air. The position allowed Sanji’s cock better access to your depths, making it easier for him to split open your walls and scramble your insides.

“Fuck!” You seethed out, pussy clenching in pain, fingers scrabbling over the floor desperately. Fiery pain was radiating up your hips, all the way into your stomach, sparking in intensity with every harsh thrust Sanji battered you with. Squelches and slapping reverberated against the walls, a symphony conducted in time with Sanji’s thrusts — your breath was knocked from your lungs and your entire body tensed, shaking, quaking from the sensations.

As if the pain had burned away the fatigue in your body your limbs zipped with energy, and with a burst of desperate movement you attempted to dislodge Sanji from your back and crawl away — it was too painful, too much, he was splitting you open, fuck, you felt like you were dying —

“Don’t try to run from me,” Sanji growled, repositioning his hand on your throat, which had been slightly skewed from your sudden tumble, and your vision blurred at the edges when the air was cut from your lungs by the grip. “Get back here, baby, I’m not done.”

Your torso was suddenly lifted from the ground, Sanji’s arm re-situating itself around your stomach and the hand around your throat positioning you so that your back was flush against his chest, all the while his cock never slipped from your aching cunt, and you felt a faint trace of relief from the new position — Sanji’s dick was still pounding away at your insides, but now the pain had eased into something more pleasurable, the slide of his cock against your walls much less intense than before; it actually felt good this way, and despite the dominance his hold on you displayed, you felt grounded and secure within his grip.

“Is that better, baby?” Sanji rasped into your neck, and you fervently nodded in confirmation, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder. Sanji’s hand around your throat loosened and air flooded into your lungs, wiping away the black fogginess that the brief asphyxiation had brought to your vision — but the pleasant fuzziness and rush remained, and you felt your body relaxing as pleasure zipped through your pussy, which tightened and fluttered around Sanji’s cock; and it pulled and immediate reaction from the man fucking you.

“Mmm, that’s it, love. Feels good now, yeah?” Sanji’s voice was now a purr, completely void of his earlier growl, and your heart fluttered when he affectionately nuzzled against your jaw. Sanji’s warm hand was a pleasant pressure against your throat, no longer squeezing and only resting there — it held the purpose of a cage, or a restraint, but it felt so freeing at the same time.

“It f-feels so good, Sanji.” You breathed out, wetness gushing from your swollen pussy and down his cock, that familiar coil already winding up inside your gut.

“Feels good for me, too, love. Fuck, your pussy is so tight and wet… can’t wait to feel you cum on my cock again.” Sanji’s declaration was punctuated by fast, short thrusts into your pussy, pleasure pulling moans from your lips as his cock slid against every single mushy, sensitive spot within your walls. How the pain had morphed so quickly to pleasure from a simple change of position was lost on you, but quite frankly, you didn’t have the coherency to try and figure it out — right now your mind was positively swimming with nothing but Sanji and the pleasure his cock was bringing you.

The stretch was so satisfying now, your cunt so wonderfully full, body radiating heat and gut clenching. Sanji’s arm loosened around your waist, just enough so that he could flatten his palm across your lower stomach, right above your clit. You were a bit confused when, without stopping his thrusts, Sanji leaned back ever so slightly, bringing your body with him — that was until you felt his cock straining against the top wall of your pussy and he groaned deeply into your ear as he pressed his hand firmly into your skin.

“Fuck, can you feel me in there, love? I can feel my cock right through you. Gods, I’m fucking you so deep.”

A harsh shiver of arousal wracked your body and you couldn’t stop the litany of curses and moans that fell from your lips. You could feel Sanji’s cock, could feel the drag of his tip and the way his girth pressed against his palm through your pubis — and it was so hot, so hot that you couldn’t help but try desperately to move your hips and suck him in further, body craving for him to carve a spot deep inside your cunt. The pleasure was building, culminating, winding and winding that coil — it felt so good, you were getting close.

“Yes, baby, just lose it. Lose it on my cock, baby.” Sanji encouraged, hips snapping up faster and sending jolts of pure pleasure through your body from the velocity. Your walls were being continuously assaulted by his cock, his tip kissing your cervix with every thrust in just the right way that it was on the right side of painful — not too intense, but enough to build the thrill of having a cock so deep inside you, just as you craved — and his filthy words and praises were doing things.

“S-Sanji, I’m close.” You moaned, bringing a hand up to claw at his around your throat. “I’m so close, faster, please — make me cum.”

“I’ll make you cum, baby, just relax.” Sanji soothed, lips pressing gentle kisses to the skin of your shoulder. “Just trust me, baby.”

You nodded fervently, Sanji’s words hardly registering aside from his promise of making you cum, and perhaps that’s what you could blame the shrill squeal on when Sanji knocked your knees further apart and began to drill into you with inhuman speed.

“Oooh, oh, fuck,” you ground out, pussy twitching around Sanji’s cock as the pleasure built to an all-time high, your gummy walls being so relentlessly caressed by his thickness, his own moans acting as an encouragement to your building orgasm.

“Fuck, I can feel you twitching baby, you’re tightening up so much,” Sanji panted, thrusts becoming slightly choppy and less accurate, and you realized that he must be getting close, too.

“A-are you going to cum?” You asked between moans, heart thundering in your chest with anticipation. The thought of his cock throbbing and twitching against your walls as he painted them with hot cum sent you spiraling into a primal frenzy, one that only deepened when you felt him nod against you.

“Fuck, cum inside me.” You begged, canting your hips back as much as you could manage in your current position. “Fill me up good, Sanji.”

Sanji’s hand tightened around your throat and he released a guttural growl into your skin, his balls now slapping against your clit as his thrusts turned harsher than before. You gasped at the electricity that shot through your clit and pussy, the combined sensations dragging your orgasm that much closer and that much quicker.

“Fuck, baby, only if you cum on my cock. Do it, baby, let me feel it.”

You were now reduced to a pitiful, moaning mess, your pussy drooling all over Sanji’s cock, and it was right there, you were so close, just a little more and you’d be exploding —

“Fuck, Sanji, I’m cumming, don’t stop!” You squealed, your words fueling Sanji to straighten his thrusts and pound into your cervix dead on, and your whole body clenched as your orgasm rushed through you. Your pussy tightened around Sanji’s cock, pulling a hiss from the man, and his thrusts were sloppy again, now aiming to simply chase his own pleasure with your walls. Overstimulation was quickly grabbing hold of you, but you braved through it, too desperate to feel Sanji’s hot cum inside you, and your efforts were rewarded when Sanji’s cock twitched once, then twice, before he slammed himself in to the hilt and stilled.

With a long groan against your skin Sanji painted your insides, thick cum sloshing inside your pussy and threatening to roll back down Sanji’s twitching cock, but with shallow thrusts the man fucked the fluid back in.

“Shit, baby, take all my cum. Take it deep. Want it to stay there.” Sanji growled, his hands tightening on your body to hold you in place. Your body was shaking and lax in his arms, limbs depleted of energy, haziness creeping into your brain as your previously forgotten fatigue bit your body with renewed vengeance. Sanji’s was panting behind you, his hips completely still for the first time in hours, and relief crashed into you as you let your eyes slip. Finally, it was over.

As your awareness slowly drifted away, vision fading to black, you just barely managed to catch Sanji’s words,

“One more time, baby?”

[twyftwyt]

…you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand - Chapter 3

Pairings: Noah Sebastian × Reader

Warnings: smut 18+ (power play, unprotected sex, unresolved trauma)

Authors note: getting down and dirty in this one, but it’s all downhill from here, babes; lots of trauma to unpack, lots of unhealthy habits and unresolved issues; Noah doesn’t know how to behave properly or talk straight, like I said, or man’s never been to therapy before, he’s hurting people left and right

“Let me apologize properly, baby.”

The only way you know, I thought.

I let him lead me inside and prop me up against the wall, with my hands up in the air. He was never really the gentle, slow and soft kind and tonight was no different. His hands were gripping my whole body, from my breasts down to my hips and I could see the pure hunger in his eyes. I would lie if I didn’t say that this scenario has happened a few times before as well. Me always trying to back away from him then him finding his way back into my life by taking a shortcut, that shortcut being my bed. He was good at it and he knew it. He knew how to work me. He knew what I liked, what buttons to push to keep me on edge, which spots to cover in kisses and which - in bruises. He was manipulative, arrogant, egocentric and stubborn and he wanted what he wanted. It was always “my way or the highway” with him. I thought I’d outgrow him, I thought that maybe he was just a crush I needed to bed and then bury but one month turned into three and three turned to seven and here we were. All over each other again.

“I know I can be a dick.”

Yeah, no fucking shit.

“But you know I’m weak for you.”

His breath was hot and heavy on my face and his eyes were piercing my soul.

“You know it’s never good when we argue.”

“Then maybe we should talk things through like grownups.”

“Agreed. Fuck, you feel so good.”

And just like that I knew we weren’t gonna talk things through.

I felt his hand slide down my panties and he brushed my lips softly. I was already too wet to think about anything else and just pressed my body down onto his hand. He palmed me and let me rub myself on his left hand. It really felt good. He was a god at making me crumble and tonight he was on a mission to scatter me in pieces.

“You want a finger inside?”

I moaned at the thought.

“Or two..”

Before I could answer or even nod, his middle finger was circling my entrance.

“Noah, please. Don’t tease..” I pleaded.

“But you’re so cute when you beg, baby.”

His cheshire cat smile spread as he was positioning two of his fingers at my center. Never giving me what I wanted from the first try. Always had to beg for it. And he loved knowing that he had that kind of control over me. He thrived on it.

I felt his fingers slip inside and my brain got all foggy from the instant fulfillment.

“I’ll never get tired of this. Look at yourself.”

He pushed me in front of him and propped me in front of my mirror that was placed right next to the door. His left hand found its place around my neck whilst his other was finding its way back to my folds. My head fell back on his shoulder and I looked up at him, my nosye tickling his chin. He was all worked up, muscles tense around me, jaw clenched and eyes dark with desire. And fuck me, he looked more handsome than ever.

“Look at yourself, not me.” his hand straightened my jaw

Seeing myself so tightly wrapped around him, engulfed in his energy made me roll my eyes back. It felt other-worldly every time. And it was no different tonight. I had already forgotten everything I was mad at him for and existed only in this moment, here, in his embrace.

“Please, Noah…” I was no longer able to form coherent sentences and my climax was near.

“Please what?”

“Please..”

I felt his fingers curl inside me again and I pressed down harder, my knees giving in and my whole body shaking. I gripped his arms to steady myself better but I could no longer see what was happening around me. It was all a haze.

“Good girl. That’s it, there you go.” his soft, breathy voice was humming in my hair

Before I could even compose myself I heard him unbuckle his pants and let them fall down to the floor along with his boxers.

“Put your hands on that stand.”

And I obeyed. I saw his animalistic expression when I looked in the mirror and I knew there was no point in arguing. He could have me in all the ways he wanted and I would oblige.

His hand slipped between my cheeks and he slapped my center hard. I felt my knees give in again and cried out in pain. He was harsh when he propped my ass against his erection and rubbed himself in between my folds.

“Do you accept my apology?”

The tip of his cock slipped inside and my head fell forward.

“Is this good enough of a sorry?”

Half of his length disappeared inside me.

“Am I forgiven?”

His whole body slammed into mine and his wet lips stuck to the back of my head. In my heart of hearts I knew this was never going to be enough. Sex could never fix all our problems. It only worked for a little while.

“No, but you can fuck your way into my forgiveness.”

His laugh echoed down the hallway and I felt him move inside me. He wasn’t being gentle with me. His body continued slamming against my skin and I knew I was going to have bruises by the time I wake up tomorrow.

“I can do that.”

And you can do it good, I thought.

His hands were gripping me at both sides and my hair was already sticking to my face from all the sweat. He still had his hoodie on and my shirt was half raised, exposing my breasts. We looked a hot mess. And we were. And my roommate was sleeping in the bedroom upstairs but I could care less about it right now.

He pulled out and I felt the sudden emptiness, until he spun me around and lifted me off the ground, burying himself deep inside of me again. Moving through the living room without pulling out once, he put me on the kitchen counter and took his hoodie off. My hands immediately found their place on his chest, scratching him down to his belly.

“I can live here.”

And I’d let him. I’d let him live inside me. No one fit the way he did, he was right.

He took my legs and lifted them until they were resting on both sides of his shoulders and I let the rest of my body lay down on the counter top. His cock was slamming in and outside of me and I couldn’t make out dreams from reality. My eyes were glued to his and the only time he took them off was to spit on my exposed center.

“Spit in my mouth.” I blurted out in the haze

I think I’ve never seen a more sadistic smile creep up his face. He lifted me off the counter and grabbed me by the hair.

“You know why we’re never gonna get out of this? Because we’re fucked up and disgusting together. Open your mouth for me.”

His left hand was massaging my clit while his cock was buried deep inside me and his right hand was pulling my hair back. My mouth fell open and I felt the saliva coat my tongue.

“Swallow like the good girl I know you are.”

“Noah..”

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

His spit covered my mouth again and ran down my chin this time. He was picking up his speed and the friction of our skin was creating so much noise, I’m sure people could hear us from miles away.

“Cum inside. Please.”

His face changed the moment I said it out loud. He’d never done it before even though I was on the pill ever since we started seeing each other. I knew I was probably going to regret this later but I didn’t care now. And neither did he, by the way his movements changed. They were more rapid now. His hands gripping my hips closer to his own. His head fell back and the silent moan he was otherwise letting out now turned into a full groan. He was feral and he was leaving bruises everywhere around my body.

“Fuuuuck…fuck that feels good. Fuck.”

I felt him twitch and spill inside of me and my walls tightened around him.

He was spent and so was I. The moment he lifted me off the counter to carry me back into my room, I felt the weight of the whole day hit my body. We didn’t even shower, our clothes scattered around the whole house. I’d have to think of excuses tomorrow. Tonight was for bad decisions. And my bad decisions was curling up against my back, pulling me into him.

We were never gonna make it out of this relationship whole. Or the same. Or even remotely close. And I was afraid of all the things we could do to each other. We were both spiraling and downfall was near, I could feel it.

But we didn’t feel so bad. Rather just.. broken.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian fic

[raines-cloud]

Long Day

Miguel O’hara x reader

Summary: You had been running from Miguel. He finds you.

Tags/warnings: slight dubcon, predator/prey dynamics, praise and degradation, size difference, brat!reader

Read On AO3

smut below the cut

today had been a rough day. all you could think about was seeing your partner die as you held them, a victim of the prowler. life hadn’t been the same without them.

you were in the middle of thinking about your past when you heard him. shit.

he is miguel o’hara, leader of the elite group of spidermen in nueva york. he has a very… unique way of entering universes. he slices through the fabric of space and time. you couldn’t lie, it’s pretty badass. if he wasn’t actively hunting you, you would probably think it was really cool!

“i know you’re in here,” he growled. “cabrón…”

you held your breath. you knew that he had probably studied the area before locating where you were, but you prayed he didn’t. maybe you could get away if he hadn’t?

his almost silent footsteps were getting closer. you needed to get him away from you. how could you distract him so that you could run?

“found you.” he said.

shit. bye! was all you could think as you ducked under his talons.

“if you wanna see me naked so bad, all you have to do is ask, miguel. no need to try and slash my clothes off,” you laughed as you ran.

“could you please shut the fuck up for more than two minutes?”

“sorry, no can do!”

you two continued to play the game of cat and mouse for another few minutes. at that point, you knew that you were going to get tired soon. he knew that too.

“i’ve almost got you. just give up and let me-”

you threw a wrench that was left on a workbench at him. that stopped him completely. you kept running.

“¡hijo de puta!” he yelled. “i’m going to fucking kill you!”

you realized as you neared the back of the warehouse that the exits were blocked off. what moron did that? wait, shit, that meant-

“there’s nowhere for you to run.”

you felt his presence and braced yourself before he tackled you to the ground. his body was completely crushing yours. you tried to struggle, but the more you did, the tighter he squeezed.

“shit, okay, okay, you got me! there’s no need to do all that!” you said as he pulled you up off the ground.

“you know that i’m over a foot taller than you, right?” he said.

you scoffed. “seriously? that’s what you’re starting with?”

“i locked all the entrances of this warehouse and blocked this exit before i made that obnoxious entrance. i’ve known you were in here for a while, and i knew you would try to run.”

“fucking stalker.”

“shut up.” you felt the grin in his voice as he raised you higher off the ground so that your ass was even with his crotch. “do you feel this?”

your breath hitched as you felt his cock against you.

“i asked you a question.” he growled.

“i, um. yeah, i feel that.” you stuttered out.

“this is what you’ve done to me. you walk around, practically begging to be caught by me. you’re a fucking slut for me and you know it.” he said, lowering you back to the ground. you never realized how big the size difference was between you two.

your heart, at this point, was beating faster than it should have been. “that’s- that’s not true-”

“i can smell you, whore. you’re wet. and i’m sure that if i reach down here…” he muttered, “you’re gonna be soaked, isn’t that right?”

you bit your lip as his hand dipped under your pants and into your boxers. “y-you shouldn’t touch down there- shouldn’t you be arresting me or something?”

“yeah, i should. but this is much more fun.”

you gasped as he ripped your clothes off, the shreds falling to the ground. “hey! what the hell is wrong with you?” you moved to cover yourself, but he stopped you.

“you felt ‘what was wrong with me’ earlier.”

oh. oh.

he slowly began grinding his cock against your ass, groaning to himself. he reached around and started rubbing your clit with one hand and grabbing your neck with the other. “isn’t this so much easier? all you have to do is listen. i know that you can do that, since you seem to be hanging on to every word i’m saying…”

you grit my teeth. “s-shut up.”

“no.” he continues rubbing your clit and grips your throat a little tighter, but starts grinding his cock against your pussy, easily sliding across it. “shit, you’re so wet. are you sure you don’t want this?”

you moaned. “f-fuck off, it’s a natural reaction-“

“you and i both know that this isn’t a natural reaction to being chased by someone more than a foot taller than you and more than 100 pounds heavier than you.”

you were going to say something snarky, but he sensed that and guided the head of his cock into you as you began to speak.

“s-shit! oh my god, miguel, please-!”

“so whiny… what was that you just said a minute ago?” he said, pressing himself further into you. “you said this was a natural reaction? maybe you’re just naturally a whore, then.” he laughed to himself. “oh, you liked that name, didn’t you baby? i felt you tighten up. don’t try to lie to me.”

you wanted to reply, but you were worried that it was just going to be babbling.

he stopped moving. “say something. do you want me to stop?”

“n-no, please don’t stop.”

he finally was balls deep inside you, and you swore it felt like you were being impaled. you felt him press down on your stomach, and suddenly you were very aware that you had a g-spot.

“aw, is that your first time feeling your g-spot? i’ll make sure you feel it being hit…” he said as he lifted your legs up off the ground, putting you into a standing full nelson. “how’s that?”

“f-fuck-! miguel, oh my god. you’re so deep,” you gasped. “can’t think-”

“good. you won’t be able to think or walk when we’re done.”

he pulled his cock out to the tip and proceeded to slam back in. you yelped and he chuckled. he continued to do that for several minutes, increasing the speed at which he fucked you until you felt like you were going explode.

“who said you could cum?” he said, stopping all movement.

you didn’t think you had ever felt so devastated over not being able to cum in your life. you conveyed that through a very whiny, “why’d you stop?!”

“are you crying?”

oh. you didn’t realize you were.

“poor thing, all you’re thinking about is cumming on my cock, isn’t that right?” he asked in the most condescending tone you had ever heard. but you nodded, because he was right.

“good fucking slut.” he said as he continued moving. “cum all you want, i don’t care. we’re not done until i say we are.”

he hit your g-spot continuously as he choked you, and that sent you over the edge. when he kept going, you felt tension building up in your abs.

“m-miguel it feels— fuck! wait, it feels like i’m gonna pee-” you whined out.

“let it happen, baby. have you never squirted before?”

you shook your head.

“fuck, that’s hot.”

you felt him press your stomach and rub your clit. the tension snapped and you screamed as you squirted on his cock. you whimpered at the sensitivity as he slowed his movements, eventually stopping. your breath was shaky and you couldn’t see straight.

“f-fuck… did you cum yet..?” you asked after about two minutes of breathing.

“no, but if you need to take a break we can. i know your fragile body can’t handle me.”

you scoffed. “i can handle you, you bitch.”

he grinned. “you still have an attitude. we’ll have to work on that.” he pressed on your stomach again, which made you realize that he was still inside of you. “i’m going to bend you over that workbench. you’re gonna take my cock like a good little whore. do you understand?”

you nodded.

he pressed your torso into the workbench, your feet barely touching the ground. you moved to cover your mouth with your hand, but he stopped you and grabbed both of your hands and pressed them against your lower back. “don’t hide your noises. i want to hear.”

he continued his routine of pulling all the way out and slamming back in. initially, he went slower, but he picked up the pace within a minute. “fuck, i love watching your ass move as i fuck you. you have such a slutty body.”

“m-miguel, w-wait, ‘s too fast- ‘m gonna cum again-!” you whined.

“i love that you’re announcing when you’re gonna cum to me. it’s cute. go ahead, my pretty little slut.

this time, it was his praise that made you cum. you moaned his name as you did and you felt him twitch. “are you close?” you slurred out.

“moan my name again.”

“miguel, please keep going, you feel so good inside me!”

“fuck. i’m close. do you want me to cum inside or outside?”

“outside, please,” you begged.

“okay.”

he pulled out of your pussy and grinded himself against your ass, using it to get himself off. after a few seconds, he moaned your name and you felt his cum drip onto your back.

both of you sat in silence and breathed for a few minutes. you were sweaty and didn’t think you could walk if you tried.

“what’s your plan for cleaning up this mess?” you asked after you heard his breathing slow down.

“i really didn’t want to stop fucking you this early. you feel better than i thought you would. you did good, by the way. i do have a plan, but i don’t know if you’ll agree to it.”

“we literally just had sex. what would i not going to agree to at this point?”

he sighed. “come to nueva york with me. you wouldn’t live at the main structure where all the spidermen are, but you’d live with me. i won’t be home most of the time, so you can feel free to do pretty much whatever you want, aside from meeting the other spidermen.”

you thought about it. “i’d rather not know when you’re gonna show up again to fuck. it’s more exciting here. i wanna stay here, but i think you knew that i would say that. so what’s the twist?”

he chuckled. “you’re observant. there is a twist. you’d be helping me catch bad guys.”

you stared at him for a second and sighed. “can we talk about this after i take a shower and get some clothes on?”

“yeah, sorry. come on, you can wear my clothes.” he opened a portal to Earth-2099, and picked you up to carry you through it.

#atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara x you #raine’s.thoughts

[hazelfoureyes]

hello love! i hope this question isn't too personal/straightforward (if it is, please just ignore it, there's no pressure to answer it!)

I just wanted to ask how you found out that you're aromantic? I thought I was asexual for a long time (turns out I am not at all) but I still wonder if I'm aromantic sometimes... I have never been in a relationship either and don't really have an urge to change that but I do find myself longing for physical contact once in a while?

sorry, this got kinda long, i hope you have a great day and take good care of yourself! 🩵

Trying to make Alastor display more romantic tendencies and struggling because I’m just writing down my own confusion on the subject 🫠

let’s get real on main, ya’ll!

It’s really hard to pin down being aromantic, because you’re trying to identify a feeling you don’t have. Like entering a very lovely room and living there your whole life, and then someone walks in one day and says, “We took out one item before you moved in. What item is it?”

There’s nothing missing from my room, as far as I can tell?? The fuck do you mean??! Yes I see my neighbor has a salad bowl but I’ve not once needed a salad bowl and honestly I’ve never enjoyed a salad in my goddamn life. Never had a meal and thought, “know what this needs? A salad.”

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Researching Aro/Ace spectrum for writing tipped me off, because I kept googling “What makes someone aromantic” and getting frustrated, “Yes yes but what differentiates them from people like me??”

and then all these memories bubbled up in my mind

❥When everyone began dating in middle school, I said to my mother, “I have friends, I’m too young for sex. Why would I date?”

Because I didn’t know there was something else people got out of dating.

❥I would have crushes on people, and they’d asked me out, and I’d be so confused. No no—- I—- no, I just have a crush on you. I didn’t realize “crush” meant something different for them.

❥My sister lamented her best friend and her began having sex, and she wished they could have a relationship. I was so confused— fucking your best friend? That’s a relationship minus the titles. Again, didn’t realize there was more people experience.

❥What’s a romantic dinner? My friend listed all these things— alone, dancing close, looking into each others eyes, holding hands, deepening that connection. My dumbass said, “candles.”

❥If someone tried to maintain eye contact during sex and start talking to me about love, I’d kick them in the neck. The idea of someone looking at me longingly, trying to “make love”, makes my skin crawl.

❥Even now, if you ask me, “What’s the difference between your partner and your best friend? Why date person A but not person B?” Well person A is the person I’m sexually attracted to, my penultimate best friend, and I don’t get tired of their presence. I love them both dearly, truly love them. But I don’t (can’t?) feel a different love for my partner than I do my friends. It’s the same feeling for me.

I can’t help you figure it out, but I hope you find yourself happy to be as you are whichever label fits. I tried to give lots of examples of how my aromanticism appears in my life, hoping maybe you and relate to any of it. 🥺💖

#arospec #aromantic #ace alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction

[ksywoo]

Hello Fizzy!!!

I'm here with an idea for ya :)

F2L, Soonyoung confessing his feelings for a friend for the first time - the catch? No one saw it coming, the friend included 😂 Maybe Seungkwan is there and shrieks out of terror when Soonyoung does it? LOL

I'm in my Kwon Soonyoung feels rn (he is 1 of my 3 biases in SVT - I'm not very loyal sshhhh 🥴)

Feel free to do as you please with this idea, and if you're not up for writing it, that's fine too :)

Thank you! 💙

How to Cope with Rejection: An Unhelpful Guide to Protecting Your Friendship / k.sy

pairing: kwon soonyoung x gn!reader pronouns: they/them word count: 5.5k genre: the biggest of idiots to lovers, (accidental) confessions, no like actually everyone in this is an idiot except for woozi, can be read as idol or non-idol, angst if you squint, happy ending warnings: alcohol (reader doesn't drink), soonyoung teases reader for eating fast but thinks it's cute? and it's very short. let me know if there's anything else! note: thank you @twogyuu for the request!!! it was so fun to write and I hope you like it :) kwon soonyoung my absolute beloved

masterlist

STEP ONE: Don’t listen to your friends, whether they believe he likes you or not. Outside opinions will either get your hopes up or remind you of how unrequited your feelings are. 

“Have you seen Hoshi?” Seokmin asked you, his arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders to steady himself. “We need to have an emergency BSS meeting.” 

“Seokmin swears he has a good song idea…” Seungkwan explained, glancing warily at his drunk friend, steadying him with a hand to his stomach. “I’m not so sure.” 

“Just tell me where Hoshi is, he’ll understand my vision.” 

You smiled at Seokmin but shook your head. “Sorry, I haven’t seen him for a while. Last I saw him, he was dancing.”

Seokmin whined. “You’re supposed to know where he is! Who’s going to keep track of Soonyoung if you don’t?” 

“Shua?” 

The tall boy perked up, nodding. “I’ll ask him. Let’s go Kwannie.” 

“I’m tired of babysitting you, DK. Let’s leave Shua alone and just hang out here until Soonyoung comes back,” he bargained. “He can’t stay away from Y/n for that long anyway, he’ll be back.” 

Seokmin agreed with the idea and flopped to the floor to give his feet a break, almost immediately closing his eyes to sleep, his head tilting to rest against your leg as you stood against the wall.

“Didn’t you promise to not let him drink much?” you asked, making Seungkwan sigh. 

“I was doing well but I had to pee and when I came back, Jeonghan had convinced him to take a few shots with them.” 

“Of course it was Jeonghan.” 

Seungkwan laughed through his nose as he looked out towards the dancefloor. “Just as I predicted,” he smiled, nodding towards Soonyoung, who was standing in the middle of the room looking around intently for someone. When his eyes met yours, his face lit up and he waved excitedly, excusing himself from the conversation he was in to join you.

“There you are!” he greeted, slinging his arm over your shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. You laughed and wiped your face on your shirt despite the sudden butterflies telling you to accept the affection. 

“I haven’t moved since you left,” you said. “It shouldn’t have been that hard to find me.” 

Soonyoung pouted but interrupted his own thoughts when he saw Seokmin on the floor. “Kyeommie!” he yelled, dropping to the floor to sit on the boy’s lap and kiss his cheek as well. Unlike the quick kiss he had given you, he repeatedly kissed Seokmin’s cheek with loud kisses until the drunk boy pushed him off his lap. 

You and Seungkwan exchanged looks, your friend’s eyes filled with sympathy and yours expressing slight annoyance.

The thing was, you had a massive crush on Soonyoung, and every time he did anything sweet towards you, he did something bigger and more lovey to one of your friends. 

In the years you grew to know and love Kwon Soonyoung, you learned that he was many things. He was kind, he was talented, he was cuddly, a tad stupid sometimes, maybe a little loud and dramatic, and above all, the most unsubtle person you had ever met. Any emotion Soonyoung felt or thought he had was clear as day to anyone around him. He was the definition of someone wearing their heart on their sleeve.

If he was hungry, you already knew because he listed several places within walking distance that you should accompany him to. 

If he was happy, he wouldn’t stop talking about whatever it was that made him so, sometimes to an annoying extent, but you seemed to be one of the only people who would let him keep talking until he tired himself out.

If he didn’t like someone, it was rare, but his expression said it all, lips turned down and eyebrows pulled together as he eyed the person skeptically. 

If he was tired, you were painfully aware. He was already laying all over you and burying his face in your hoodie or laying on your lap whining to go home or stay still so he could sleep. 

Point is that he couldn’t hide a secret to save his life especially if it was something about himself. He was an open book, and he liked it that way. Sometimes his closest friends knew how he felt before he even did. Not only was he easy to read, he was over-the-top about how he felt.

So, when after years of friendship you still didn’t think he had feelings for you, it was pretty decided by you and your whole friend group that he didn’t like you back. If he did, it would be way more apparent in so many different ways. You had never seen him with a crush on someone, but you were positive it would have been more evident because it was Kwon Soonyoung; he certainly would have been giggling and twirling his hair every time you blinked if he actually had feelings for you. 

But you were totally fine with just being his friend, really. Okay, it kinda sucked, but you loved to pretend it was fine. You had had a crush on him for so long but it was a well-known fact that he didn’t like you romantically, so it wasn’t worth shedding tears over. 

Except maybe sometimes to Seungkwan. 

Everyone in your shared friend group was aware of your unrequited feelings for Soonyoung, but you only really talked to Seungkwan about it. You had mentioned your crush a couple of times to a few others, and it became something they liked to try to joke to you about in front of him and see how obvious they could be before Soonyoung started to catch on. You didn’t like those jokes so much, so you decided Seungkwan was the only one you could openly vent to without being teased every time. 

You often exchanged looks with him every time Soonyoung did anything like cover Seokmin’s face in kisses after giving you one incredibly platonic cheek kiss. 

“Hoshiiiii,” Seokmin muttered, despite excitedly looking for the boy not five minutes earlier. “Off.” 

Soonyoung listened, moving to sit next to Seokmin instead of on top of him. “Wonwoo said you were looking for me?” 

Remembering the reason for asking everyone at the party where Soonyoung was, Seokmin opened his eyes and sat up. “I HAVE A SONG IDEA.” 

You smiled as Soonyoung listened to the drunk slurring, trying his best to follow along with Seokmin’s ideas, which were messy and unorganized and very questionable. Soonyoung was sweet and patient nonetheless, writing down the ideas on his notes app so they could start writing a song the next day, but really he just wrote them down so he could tease Seokmin when he sobered up. 

“Are you ready to go home, DK?” Soonyoung asked, helping the other boy up when he agreed. 

“Wait, did you drink?” you asked Soonyoung, assuming he was being extra affectionate because of alcohol. 

Soonyoung shook his head. “No. Well, I had some water…” 

You smiled and shook your head.

“I’m going to go around and see if anyone else is ready to go home and needs a ride. Watch him to make sure he doesn’t wander off?” 

Seungkwan agreed and waited for Soonyoung to get out of earshot before turning to you. “Can he stop being cute towards you?” 

“I know,” you groaned. “What is wrong with him? It’s like he can’t tell I’m borderline in love with him.”

“Only borderline?” Seungkwan teased, but you elbowed him. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

Jihoon walked up a few minutes later, hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall on the other side of Seokmin. “Soonyoung sent me here to get collected to go home.” 

You laughed. “Yeah, so far just you and DK though.” 

“You’re not going home? Soonyoung sounded like he wanted you to.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Jihoon shrugged. “He asked if I wanted to go home yet, then went on a tangent about seeing if you wanted to go home too and watch a movie or have a sleepover with him or something.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up, blaming it on the temperature of the crowded room. “I think I’m gonna stay here a little longer. I want to make sure everyone gets home safe since I know a few people have had a lot more to drink than Seokmin.” 

At the mention of his name, Seokmin stood up and suddenly tried walking away like he just remembered he had to do something detrimental to the safety and security of the country, but Seungkwan grabbed his arm and pulled him back, pushing his shoulder down so he sat again. He obeyed with little restraint.

“I think he likes you,” Jihoon declared simply. 

“Who?” you asked hesitantly, partially wanting to ignore him to keep your hopes down, but also intrigued in indulging in the fantasy that Soonyoung might like you back. 

“Soonyoung.” 

“We’ve all talked about this, Ji. And all of us have agreed that he doesn’t. It would be so obvious if he did.” 

Jihoon nodded and shifted, putting his phone in his pocket and turning towards you. “But… it is kinda obvious. He talks about you a lot.” 

You scoffed, hopes immediately deflated. “He talks a lot about a lot of people.” 

“But, like, for long periods of time. He literally just brought you up out of nowhere and went on a full tangent about hanging out with you without us. It’s hard to get him to change the topic once he starts talking about you sometimes. And he does it so shy like he’s worried we’re annoyed.”

Okay, that was kinda good reasoning. “Still.” 

“He’s also pretty touchy with you.”

“That is definitely not a good argument,” you laughed. “All of you are touchy with everyone. Trust me, I’ve thought about that one. But every time I’m like ‘oooh he had his arm around my shoulder while we walked to lunch’, he turns around and does something like cuddling with Chan for an entire movie.”  

The boy hummed, shrugging. “Just saying what I think. It’s a different vibe.”

“He just kissed my cheek. And then immediately after, he smothered DK with kisses.”

Jihoon shrugged in an ‘I don’t know what to tell you except what I’ve already told you and that is that he definitely likes you’ way. “Again, different vibe.”

“Well, no one else agrees with your vibe checker,” you teased. “Thanks for believing in me though.”

“I’m the biggest Soony/n shipper and even I don’t think he likes them,” Seungkwan admitted. “I mean, it’s Hoshi. He’s so obvious about everything; if he does like Y/n, he would have had to suddenly learn how to keep his feelings inside. Like, there’s no way there would be this much debate and confusion if he did because he’d be obvious, you know?” 

“Wow, way to sugarcoat it, Seungkwan,” you forced out a small laugh and he deflated. 

“I don’t mean it like that–”

“No, I get it,” you smiled, even while your heart was wilting. “I’m going to go check up on everyone and make sure they’re all okay.”

“Y/n–” 

“I’ll see you guys later. Text me when you get home.” 

You walked away, missing the way Soonyoung looked around for you in the crowd with a frown after Jihoon and Seungkwan told him you were staying. He’d have to convince you to have a sleepover and movie night some other time.

STEP TWO: Don’t spend time alone, especially if cuddling is involved. It fuels unrealistic fantasies which are not something you should be thinking about when with your FRIEND.

Soonyoung eventually tracked you down and found a day neither of you were busy to invite you over to hang out. Of course, you agreed. It was difficult to not agree with Soonyoung. 

“Your cooking has gotten better,” you commented as you shoveled food into your mouth. 

Soonyoung laughed at your haste. “Maybe you’re just starving. Slow down, you’re going to choke.” 

You smiled but didn’t slow down. It was good and you were hungry.

“I was going to say I couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or not but judging by how you’re barely even tasting your food before eating it, I’m guessing it’s a compliment?” 

You nodded, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “Big compliment. This is so good. Maybe it’s just good compared to what you used to make.” 

“You’re cute,” Soonyoung giggled, his cheeks filling with color at the praise. “I’ve been getting some of the boys to teach me how to make stuff. They’re good teachers.” 

“You’re a good student.” 

He hid his smile behind his hand, trying to play off how happy the compliments made him by changing the subject. “Do you want more?” 

You shook your head. “I’m full. But it was really good, thank you.” 

He nodded and took your plate and his, bringing them to the sink to clean. 

“Wait, let me help clean up since you made dinner,” you offered, gently pushing him out of the way. He let you, dramatically agreeing that he shouldn’t be expected to cook and clean, all while putting leftovers away and cleaning the counters. 

It didn’t take long after tidying the kitchen for you two to retire to the living room and put on a movie. There was even less time between putting on the movie and him pulling you close to lean against his chest with his arms around you. 

During times like this — with your back pressed to his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder, and his arms wrapped around your waist but his hand still managing to hold yours while you two softly commented on whatever movie you picked — it was easy to forget he didn’t like you.

It felt so real, so sweet, so pure. If it was anyone else, you would be suspicious of the occasional kisses he pressed to your shoulder or cheek. If it was anyone else, the small signs of affection would be enough evidence to convince you the person had feelings for you, but coming from Soonyoung, it wasn’t enough to determine a clear conclusion. It was easy to doubt that his intentions were romantic when he wasn’t his normal emphatic self about it. He was so loud and unmistakable about everything, so why would he be anything other than loud and unmistakable when it came to his romantic feelings? 

In everything, Soonyoung was a hurricane that could disturb entire cities with any slight expression of emotion. 

But this? The soft kiss he left on your ear as he giggled at your joke or the slow, absentminded trace of his fingers over your hand and arm when he noticed you were getting cold? This was anything but outspoken. It was soft, a gentle breeze that shakes leaves but does nothing to disturb the tree. 

Unfortunately, it was easy to pretend when the only lights in the room came from the television and the boy whose smile knocked over every wall around your heart. 

STEP THREE: Try dating other people. Sometimes you just need a reminder that other people are cool too, I guess. 

A change needed to be made. When things don’t work, something’s got to give. In this case, being cuddly with Soonyoung 24/7 was not working. It was more than okay when it was actually happening, when you two would cuddle during a movie or sleep in the same bed or when he would hold your hand while walking to dinner, but the after made it difficult. After all of that, when he would cuddle with someone else or hold Minghao’s hand instead, it made all the good things feel insignificant and meaningless. 

So something had to change. Unfortunately, Seungkwan took this to mean you wanted a boyfriend.

“I don’t want to go on a blind date, Seungkwan,” you sighed as you threw an old sweatshirt onto your bed. 

The blonde boy frowned up at you from your floor. “Why not? I promise he’s nice. And probably your type. He looks a bit like Soonyoung now that I think about it.”

“That’s worse,” you replied, head deep in your closet.  

“What, you don’t like Soonie for his looks?” he teased.

You threw a wadded-up hoodie at his big grin. “I don’t want to go on a date with someone who will remind me of the boy who doesn’t like me back. I meant I needed change as in, like, hanging out with him less.” 

“We both know that’s not going to happen.” Seungkwan pulled the hoodie off his head and set it next to the other clothes you were getting rid of. “Come on, this guy thinks you’re really cute.” 

You looked at him quickly. “He knows me?” 

“He was at our dance practice the other day so he saw you when you stopped by.” 

You thought back to that day, trying to remember the faces of the people you didn’t know. “Which one was he?”

“I don’t remember what he was wearing. Super tall? Dark hair?”

“Super tall? Yeah, sounds just like our Hoshi,” you joked. “What, like, taller than Mingyu?” 

Seungkwan shrugged. 

“You’re so helpful. I don’t want to go.”

“But he was so interested,” Seungkwan pouted. “He literally wouldn’t shut up about you after you left. It was annoying but also kinda cute. He’s probably not a good… long-term boyfriend… but I just want you to go out and have fun and forget about your unrequited love for one night to see that you’re capable of being loved by other people.”

You sighed and sat on your bed, looking down at Seungkwan on the floor. You held out your hands and he quickly placed them in yours, staring up at you with a pout. “Kwan, I know I am. I’ve been in relationships before. I’m not hopelessly in love with Soonyoung. I’m actually so fine with where our friendship is at. I’m content! Let me stay content.” 

He paused. “I don’t believe you, though.”

Good, you thought, that makes you a good best friend.

“You just think anyone is better than Soonyoung,” you joked to postpone your answer. 

Seungkwan scoffed. “Not true. I know we argue a lot but he’s one of my best friends. I’m rooting for you and Soon… but we know that’s not… you know…”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, rubbing the back of his hand as you tried to stop thinking about Soonyoung. 

You thought hard about going on the date with Seungkwan’s friend, deciding it probably couldn’t hurt to go out with this guy. If it would make Seungkwan feel better, it would be worth it. And maybe he was right, maybe it would be fun and help you get your mind off things. 

“One date,” you agreed. 

Seungkwan cheered, taking his hands back to stand up and tackle you in a hug. “Thank you!! It will be fun, he’s really nice and funny.”

“He better be,” you jokingly threatened, making him smile. 

STEP FOUR: Realize dating other people is pointless.

He wasn’t nice and funny. Well, he was, but you couldn’t stop yourself from comparing him to Soonyoung and no one does well when compared to Soonyoung. It wasn’t fair to compare a mere mortal with the epitome of happiness and love, but you didn’t mean to. 

“I never said he was a terrible person!” you defended, pouting as a few of the boys continued to make jokes about your bad date. “I said he–” you groaned, giving up as Jeonghan and Mingyu talked over you to make more jokes at your expense. 

“Was he at least a good kisser?” 

“I didn’t kiss him, we went on one date.” 

“Give him a chance. Maybe his most redeemable quality is his kissing?” Jeonghan suggested, laughing as you groaned. 

“He has redeemable qualities, I just didn’t like him in that way.” 

“What’s happening?” Soonyoung asked, joining the conversation late as he fell next to you on the couch. He opted to shove himself in the small space between you and the armrest instead of anywhere else on the otherwise empty couch, leaving him half on your lap with one leg flung over yours. 

“We’re talking about Y/n’s terrible date,” Wonwoo summarized. 

“I never used the word ‘terrible’,” you corrected. 

“Was it bad?” Soonyoung asked genuinely, eyes full of curiosity as he looked at you. 

“It was fine,” you said before anyone could answer for you. “We just didn’t really click, that’s all.” 

“Wasn’t it that dude who hangs around the practice room all the time?” Soonyoung asked, giggling when Seungkwan nodded. “That guy sucks.” 

Half of the room broke out laughing at the abruptness, but you and Seungkwan looked at him. “What? No, he doesn’t! He’s so nice!” Seungkwan defended. 

“Because all you talk to him about is dance,” Soonyoung explained, “so he always throws around compliments to suck up to you. If you talked to him about literally anything else, you’d see he’s so boring. And has bad opinions.” 

“Hoshi’s just mad because he said he liked bears better than tigers,” Wonwoo teased, making Soonyoung frown. 

“Nooo,” Soonyoung lied obviously. “Partly. Mostly. But he’s also boring. He’s majoring in, like, finance or something.” 

“That’s an honorable field…” you defended.

“I thought you agreed he sucked,” Soonyoung looked at you with a pout.

“Aw, is Soonie jealous?” Jeonghan teased, which was purposefully ignored by both you and Soonyoung (after Soonyoung gave Jeonghan a quick, panicked look).

“I never said he sucks!” you groaned again to Soonyoung’s comment. “All I said was we didn’t click.”

“Meaning he’s boring and you won’t be going out again,” Minghao giggled. 

“Does that mean he should join the ‘Rejected by Y/n Club’?” Soonyoung asked with a playful grin. “I can send him an application.” 

You breathed out a laugh out of habit before processing what he said, turning to look at him. “Wait, what?”

“What? Are there enough people to make a club?” Jihoon laughed. 

Soonyoung shrugged. “I guess it really only takes two to form a club,” he reasoned. “So, yeah.”

“Then who’s the other member?” you asked. 

“Me?” Soonyoung said with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

The seven of you looked at him, silent except for Seungkwan’s small scream he let out before slapping his hand over his mouth and turning towards whoever was closest to him, which was an equally surprised Mingyu. 

Soonyoung’s eyes widened. “What? Should I not joke about that?” he asked you, worry all over his features. He feared he crossed a line, worried there was an unspoken rule to not talk about his unrequited crush on you.

“What are you talking about?” you asked quickly after the initial shock. 

“Because… you’ve rejected me?” he looked around at everyone hitting each other’s arms or giggling or smiling. “Like, because you don’t like me back? Why is everyone looking at me like that?” His cheeks were tinged with pink embarrassment, or perhaps nervousness from being the center of attention. 

“Because that’s a weird joke, Soonyoung,” you brushed off, cheeks warming at his confession but convincing yourself it was a joke of some sort. You would have known if he made a move before because everything he did was done with obvious intent, and you would have never knowingly rejected Kwon Soonyoung.

He sat up, keeping his leg on you but looking more alert. “You shouldn’t feel bad for rejecting people, that wasn’t what I was saying. If you don’t like someone, then you don’t like them–”

“No, I meant it’s weird to say that I’ve rejected you,” you said awkwardly, trying to explain yourself without giving away your feelings. “You shouldn't joke about liking people.” 

The room filled with awkward tension, everyone but Soonyoung knowing your feelings while Soonyoung tried to understand what was going on.

“But… you have rejected me…” he persisted shyly, cheeks glowing red when you snapped your head to look at him. “And… I do like you?”

Minghao and Wonwoo simply looked up quickly with big smiles but Seungkwan gasped loudly, following his shock with, “Hoshi! You WHAT?”

Jihoon shushed Seungkwan, pushing the younger boy’s face but had a huge grin of his own.

“You like me??” Bewilderment didn’t begin to describe your emotion at the implication of Soonyoung’s – the boy you liked for years – words. "As in, like, like me like me? Romantically? Not just in a friend way?"

“I’m so confused. I’m not… did you not know that?” Soonyoung looked around the room quickly. “Did… none of you know that?” 

Your brain felt fuzzy and confused, trying to process what he was saying. For the first time in all the years of knowing him, you weren’t sure what Soonyoung was thinking or feeling or doing. It was terrifying. 

Others, like Minghao who was giggling or Jeonghan who was full on laughing, found the situation to be a little more entertaining than scary. 

“Can someone please say something? I’m so lost,” Soonyoung begged, looking mostly at you but occasionally letting his eyes flick to someone else in search of answers. 

“Are you being serious?” you asked softly. 

Soonyoung looked at you, eyes concerned and desperate but focused on you like you two were the only ones in the room and possibly in the world. “Yes,” he replied equally soft. 

You just stared at him with your jaw hung open slightly, eyes wide. He had to glance behind him cautiously to make sure you hadn’t spotted a ravenous lion ready to pounce. 

“Wow, look at the time,” Wonwoo coughed loudly, looking at the other friends in the room. “We have that thing we need to do, right guys?” He stood up and pulled Seungkwan up with him, who protested immediately. 

“No, I need to watch this unfold!” Seungkwan cried, eyes still wide and frantic with pure shock. “Do you know how long Y/n has liked Soo–?” 

Mingyu covered Seungkwan’s mouth with his hand and started pushing him towards the door. 

“No way, this is better than TV,” Jeonghan giggled as he continued looking at you (still silent with shock) and Soonyoung (still wildly embarrassed). After seeing even Minghao stand up and Wonwoo’s pointed look, Jeonghan groaned and followed the others out of the room.

“Sorry for the timing,” Jihoon started, leaning down to whisper to you even though you didn’t react, “but I told you so. Never question my suspicions ever again.” 

The door closed behind the five of them, leaving the room eerily silent and tense. 

“Right now would be a great time for you to say something and let me know I didn’t just mess up our entire friendship,” Soonyoung mumbled, taking his leg off of yours in fear that the contact was making you uncomfortable. 

“I–I just…” you stumbled, shaking your head to get your brain back in line. “I’m trying to understand… you like me back?” 

“Back?” Soonyoung emphasized, before letting out a breath. “Well, that’s a good sign…” he mumbled. 

“Yes, back,” you laughed, finally feeling your lungs fill with air again. He looked up at the sound and smiled. “I had no idea you liked me.” 

“How? I’ve been so obvious. Even the boys have been obvious, always making jokes about me liking you and stuff. Like, Jeonghan just did it when he teased me about being jealous.” 

“Soon, they make those jokes because they know I like you and are trying to tease me. I promise you no one knew you liked me. Except for Jihoon, but he was only suspicious.” 

Soonyoung frowned. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Why would you just assume we knew? Did you ever tell anyone that you liked me?”

“Well, no,” he admitted, pouting as he thought. “But everyone always tells me how obvious I am about my feelings. You guys know how I feel about things before I even do sometimes. So I assumed you could all tell this too. I didn’t even try to hide it…” 

“You assumed wrong, idiot,” you teased, nudging his thigh with your knee. “You can’t just assume things like that.” 

“What about you?” he asked. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked me?” 

You paused and gave a nervous smile, realizing your hypocrisy. “Okay, I might have… also assumed some things…” 

He laughed, urging you to explain. 

“I know you’re expressive… so I figured – well, we all figured – if you liked me, we’d be able to easily tell because we always… know what’s going on in your head...” 

Soonyoung laughed again. “You can’t just assume things like that,” he mimicked, making you laugh.  

“We’re stupid.”

“The stupidest.” 

You grinned at him, a new feeling blossoming in your chest now that you could stare at him without worrying you were being obvious. 

“So you just never talked to anyone about me?” 

“I did to Jihoon a lot, which is probably why he thought I liked you.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Seungkwan and Jeonghan with their faces smushed against the window that looked out into the hallway, trying desperately to eavesdrop on your conversation. You laughed and shooed them away with your hand but they shook their heads until Wonwoo and Minghao came back, dragging them away by their collars. 

“I guess that one guy has to be alone in his club now, huh?” you sighed. “Seeing as I never rejected you in the first place.” 

“To be fair, there were some times that I was incredibly obvious and you brushed me off and that feels the exact same as rejection. I literally cried one time when I got home because you– never mind. I won’t get into it.” 

You looked at him quickly with guilt, your heart falling at the news. “What? I’m so sorry, I never meant– I probably brushed you off because I was too nervous to flirt back and worried about being obvious–” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassured softly, reaching out and grabbing your hand. “Just thought that me being affectionate all the time was a pretty big indication that I liked you…” he joked. 

“Okay, but that was almost always followed by you being affectionate with someone else. So it was hard to see that as anything but platonic unless you have crushes on everyone.”

“I don’t, I don’t,” he laughed. “It’s only you. So hopefully now if I kiss your cheek or ask you to cuddle with me, you won’t think it’s just me being friendly.” 

You smiled widely, cheeks warming. “I won’t. I bet if you kissed me right now I wouldn’t think you’re just being friendly either.” 

“So hasty,” he teased. “Not even a date first?” 

“We can go on a date but I’ve liked you for so long and have wanted to kiss you so many times and now that I know you like me I–” 

Soonyoung cut off your rambling by pecking your lips, pulling away before you could even process what happened. You smiled and grabbed his face, pulling him back gently to kiss him properly. It was a little too much, Soonyoung suddenly being the center of attention for all your senses. You suddenly knew what his lips felt like on yours and what he tasted like, which was endearingly reminiscent of oranges. Both of you were too giddy and happy, breaking the kiss not long after. 

“This is too much. I’m too overwhelmed,” Soonyoung admitted softly with a small laugh.

“In a bad way?” you asked. 

“No. Never in a bad way,” he said, giving you one more quick kiss. “I just need to finish processing the fact you actually like me back before my brain will be okay with making out with you. Baby steps.” 

You laughed but agreed, dropping your hands from his face but letting him take your hand in his. 

“But how about a date?” 

STEP FIVE: be glad your friends were rooting for you, but plan revenge to get back at them for profiting from painful years of pining

Despite all your friends believing that Soonyoung didn’t like you back, a few of them had bets going on relating to when, how, where, and why one of you would confess. As soon as word got around to the others that Soonyoung admitted he had a crush on you, people started paying up. 

“I was so certain Y/n would confess because they got sick of being friend-zoned,” Mingyu groaned, handing Seungcheol money. 

“I honestly just randomly guessed Soonyoung would say it thinking everyone knew. I just knew it wouldn’t be Y/n first so I came up with a complete shot in the dark,” he admitted with a loud laugh. 

“That makes it so much more annoying.” 

“Does this mean you two are going to be even more sickeningly cute than usual?” Hansol whined, watching as you wrapped your arms around Soonyoung from behind while he helped Jun cook for everyone. 

“Yup,” you said. “Get over it.” 

“I’ve never been happier to tell someone a second date isn’t going to happen,” Seungkwan smiled at his two best friends. “That guy asked me if you had said anything about him because he wants to ask you out again.” 

“He sucks!” Soonyoung, Wonwoo, and Jeonghan shouted together, making you and everyone else laugh loudly. 

“Tell him to back off,” Soonyoung said, turning around to hold you in his arms like he was protecting you. 

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have said yes even if you didn’t accidentally confess to me.” 

Soonyoung rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight his smile. “That’s reassuring.” 

#fizzys fics #kwon soonyoung x reader #hoshi x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #soonyoung x you #hoshi x you #seventeen fanfic #soonyoung fanfic #hoshi fanfic #hoshi fluff #kwon soonyoung fluff #kwon soonyoung fanfic #soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung x you #ksy x reader

[she-likesorchids]

my dear mandy, you are not only one of my favourite writers but also one of my favourite people 🥰 congrats on 50 love 🥳

could i please make a request for our baby mikey kinsella from the fake dating prompt list? i'll leave the exact prompt up to you, but please, you know what i'm going to ask for - as much amanda slander as possible 😂

- @mindidjarin ❤️

MINDI my love!

So, this one kind of got away from me, but I wanted to deliver on the Amanda slander, so here ya go babe!

I chose the prompt "my ex doesn’t understand it’s over, so I tell them I’ve already got someone new"

LOVE YA BOO, ENJOY!

Michael had grown tired of the song and dance with Amanda. He really wanted to find someone else after Molly, but she just would not stop with her advances. Their relationship was wrong, and Amanda didn't really care, but Michael definitely did. Her advances were getting less and less subtle, and he had to figure out a way to get the message across that he wasn't doing this with her anymore. Unfortunately, after what happened with Molly, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to put himself out there again. 

Molly had transferred to another pharmacy, so at least Michael didn’t have to risk any awkward encounters with her when he was getting his medicine. He first saw you last time he picked up his medication, and he noticed you had a very sweet smile and kind eyes. Maybe the job hadn’t quite gotten to you yet, but he got a very warm and welcoming vibe from you. He definitely thought you were cute, but did he want to go down the road of asking out the cute chemist again? 

Jimmy had invited Michael over to his house for a get-together, and he jokingly encouraged him to bring a date. Michael really didn’t know who he could ask, but he definitely wanted to bring someone along so Amanda would get off his back. It was time to pick up a refill of his medication, and he decided on the walk over that he would ask you to be his date if you were there. He was sort of hoping maybe today was your day off, so he could save himself the embarrassment, but lo and behold you were behind the counter with a smile on your face. 

You felt butterflies in your stomach when you saw Michael walk in. Despite knowing who he was and what he had done, you couldn’t help the silly schoolgirl crush you had developed on him. He didn’t even have to tell you his name, you remembered him from his last visit and went to fetch his medication for him as he approached the counter. 

“Michael Kinsella, right?” you asked in a chipper tone. 

“Uh, yeah. That’s me,” he replied with an awkward wave. 

“Grand! Can you just confirm your date of birth for me?” 

He gave you his date of birth, and you continued ringing up his prescription, but Michael was absolutely mesmerized by your smile and your voice. He finally snapped back to reality when you asked him if he had any questions, and he had to shake his head for a moment to get back in the moment. 

“Are you alright, Mr. Kinsella?” you asked with obvious concern in your voice. You were well versed in CPR and first aid, but you really didn’t want a handsome hitman having a seizure in the middle of the pharmacy.

“Yeah, I’m grand. Sorry.” 

“Oh, it’s alright, Mr. Kinsella.” 

“Please, call me Michael.” 

“Okay, Michael. Do you have any questions for me?” 

Michael could hear his blood rushing through his ears, and he felt like his heart was about to hammer out of his chest.

“Yeah, actually I do. Uh, what are ya doin tomorrow night?” 

Woah. Was he actually asking you out?! Your little schoolgirl daydream was coming true, there was no way this was actually happening. 

“I don’t have any plans, actually. Did you have something in mind?” 

“Yeah, my brother invited me over for dinner, and he said I could bring a plus one, so would ya like to come with me?” 

Accepting an invitation for dinner at the home of a crime family was probably not a smart decision, but, you only live once, right? You figured ‘what the hell’ and decided to accept his invitation. 

“Sure, that sounds lovely. I’m not working tomorrow, but I can meet you here, and I can drive us there.” 

“Wonderful. See ya here tomorrow at seven?” 

“Sure, I’ll see you then, Michael.” 

You said your goodbyes to each other, and you were suddenly feeling giddy at the fact that a handsome customer had asked you out. Michael was happy that he actually had a date to take to Jimmy’s, but now he had to figure out how to break it to you that he wanted you to pretend you had been seeing each other for a while.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Michael showed up at seven o'clock on the dot to escort you to his brother’s house. You had dressed a little nicer than you normally did for work knowing you had a date tonight, and Michael definitely noticed. 

“Wow, ya look nice,” Michael said shyly. 

You felt heat creeping up your cheeks from the compliment, and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Thanks, I do aim to impress,” you replied. 

“Shall we?” Michael said as he gestured across the street. 

“Ya sure, I’m just right over here,” you said as  you led him to your car. 

The ride to Jimmy and Amanda’s was filled with small talk, the two of you asking about each others’ days and such. When you finally pulled up to their house, Michael finally got the nerve to tell you what his motive really was. 

“So, I may have told me family that I’ve been seein’ someone for a while now, and they’re gonna think it’s you.” 

Your eyes went wide, and you suddenly forgot how to form words. “Oh, o-okay. What would give them that impression?” 

“I mighta told them I’d been seein’ the cute chemist and that I was bringin’ ya over t’night.” 

“Wow, well, okay then. So, I guess I gotta keep up the ruse, then.” 

“M’sorry. Truly. If ya wanna just drop me off and leave, I don’t blame ya one bit. But, I’d like ya to stay.” 

You mulled it over for a moment, and against your better judgment, you decided to go to the party with him. It could be a funny story to tell your kids one day, you thought. 

“Ah, what the hell, let’s do it!” 

Michael smiled and kissed your cheek, then the two of you headed into the party hand in hand. He really did like you, but making Amanda jealous was going to be a fantastic bonus.

#nifty fifty celebration #michael kinsella #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #mandy writes #rte kin #kin amc

[mlmxreader]

Old Country Songs | John Price x m!reader

anonymous asked: 🪳 bonk!

Anyway I feel like these would fit Ghost really well however I’m tempted to ask for Price. I can’t choose so I’ll let you be fate.

"I can't keep doing this"

"We can't keep hiding this - us"

"Please don't leave me alone"

summary: you and Price talk about what to do about your relationship

tws: swearing, smoking

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Things were getting more and more difficult, sneaking away from one flat in the middle of the night to go stay at another, wrapped in the arms of a lover who couldn't be known, dirty laundry scattered on one floor yet cleaned in a different washing machine each time; hiding scents that lingered on coats and hoodies with cheap cologne, all the Lenor in the world wouldn't clean that kind of dirty laundry.

Secrets well hidden and stuffed away at the back of wardrobes, confidential texts sent on encrypted phones, hidden walks just in case the car or the motorbike was compromised.

It was getting harder and harder to keep things a secret, but it was for the best, as no one would exactly take kindly to a Sergeant having a romantic relationship with his own Captain, it was a lawsuit waiting to happen and, even worse, could have caused you both to put each other's necks on the line; no one was allowed to know.

Even your best friend. Even his own task force. No one. Sure, family and friends who weren't connected knew, but they were the only ones.

It was getting harder and harder, though; nearly too hard to hide the stolen kisses in the shed.

Sitting on his lap as he told you how much he missed you, fearing anyone would walk in. Disappearing together for a smoke break, only to end up pinned against the wall as he kissed you with desperation yet broke away if so much as a twig snapped.

You were both starting to crack under the pressure of it.

It was the middle of the night, around three hundred hours, when you abandoned Price in your bed; letting him sleep while you headed to get yourself a can of Red Bull, shaky hands and tired eyes as you opened it, wincing at how loud the sound had been.

You put one earbud in, relaxing a little when you heard 'In War and Pieces' by Sodom playing quietly through it.

You were certain that you had some time to think, but when the light switched on, your certainty was crushed; Price stood by the fridge, hands in the pockets of his black camoflauge patterned jogging bottoms.

Greying hairs in his moustache and mutton chops and hair hardly visible from the distance.

"What are you still doing up, pup?"

You shrugged, swiping a hand down your face and grumbling softly. Bags under your eyes, hardly able to bite back yawns the way you usually could. "Keep thinkin' 's all."

Price licked his lips, drew closer so that he was leaning against the sink, raising his brows a little as he hummed ever so lowly. "You wanna talk about it?"

You nodded, and when you met his gaze, you knew that he held a worry behind those usually icy blue eyes. "I don't think I can cope anymore."

He nodded.

"I mean," you sighed. "We've been hiding for years, John... it's too hard to keep doing it."

Price frowned as he searched for his cigars, but when he couldn't find one, he settled for stealing one of your Marlboro golds. "Keep going."

"I can't cope," you explained, "we can't keep hiding this - us... fuck me, I can't keep doing this."

"Alright." He nodded curtly, coming to stand beside you and allowing you to rest your head on him as he grumbled quietly. "We'll tell everyone in the morning, yeah?"

You nodded. "You're not mad?"

"No," he told you. "If you don't wanna keep our relationship a secret, then that's fine by me, pup... I love you, I'd do anything for you... remember when we took a ride down to your mate's farm?"

"When you played the guitar," you smiled at the memory as you nodded. "Wasn't it... fuck... can't think."

"I played Hey Good Lookin' by Hank Williams," Price laughed ever so softly, daring to put his arm around you. "And y'know what?"

"What?"

"I still think of you every time I hear it."

You wanted to roll your eyes, to tell him that he was just soft and to tease him about it, but you couldn't bring yourself to; not when you were nearly crushed into him, your arm slung around his waist just above the waistband of his jogging bottoms. You could feel his bare skin against you, and you sighed as you cleared your throat.

"Say hey, good lookin', what you got cookin'?" He started, "how's about cooking somethin' up with me? Hey, sweet baby - don't you think maybe we can find us a brand new recipe? I got a hot rod Ford, and a two dollar bill and I know a spot right over the hill, there's soda pop and the dancing's free, so if you wanna have fun, come along with me."

You couldn't deny it, it was absolutely precious that he was singing it so quietly, his voice so gruff and baritone; he wasn't the best singer in the world, and you could tell that he had been to more heavy metal concerts and sang along to more heavy metal bands than anything else, but you had never heard Hank Williams sound so fucking sweet before.

You couldn't help but to smile, nearly grinning. "You're an absolute softie."

"Course I am," Price agreed softly, a fond smile on his lips as he dared to steal your spare earbud. "Sodom?"

"Sodom," you nodded. "Pretty sure it's one of your favourites, too - M-16."

He nodded. "Yeah, that's the one... but if I remember right, yours is Body Parts, innit?"

You yawned, daring to stretch as you leaned into him a little bit more, your eyes starting to drift shut as you stood there, feeling him against you, his gentle humming along with the song as he tapped his foot softly and kept his arm around you.

He only dared to move when he had finished the cigarette, stubbing it out in the ashtray before he gently tapped your shoulder. "C'mon, pup, why don't we get you back to bed, eh?"

You nodded, leaving your energy drink on the side as you followed him closely; Price got into bed first, as always, and only dared to move once you got in beside him. Earbuds left in their case on the bedside table, silence taking over.

You snuggled into his side, throwing one leg and an arm over him as you always did, letting him crush you against his side as he held you tightly.

"Please don't leave me alone," you murmured against the side of his neck. "Ever."

"Never," Price promised. "I got your six."

You grumbled, and he could feel the way you smiled against him as he tugged the blankets over, making sure that they were over your shoulders. "D'ya think you could sing to me a bit?"

"Can it be Johnny Cash?" He asked with a soft chuckle.

You shrugged. "Why not? But... for a metalhead... you're awful fond of that shit."

"Shut it," he warned playfully. "Do you want me to sing, or not?"

"Fine," you huffed.

"Atta boy," Price chuckled softly before he cleared his throat and started to sing. "It's knowing that your door is always open and your path is free to walk that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag, rolled up and stashed behind your couch and it's knowing I'm not shackled by forgotten words and bonds and the ink stains that are dried upon some line, that keeps you in the backroads by the rivers of my memory that keeps you ever gentle on my mind."

Price could feel it, the tell tale signs that you were sound asleep by the time he took a moment to think about what lyrics came next, which ones were before and after the chorus, and he smiled.

Maybe you didn't detest country music as much as you claimed, or maybe you fell asleep to escape it, but either way, he didn't mind.

You were absolutely sound asleep, and although he was starting to hear that sweet call himself, he chose to ignore it for a moment; he grabbed his phone from under his pillow, and although by now it was nearly four o'clock in the morning, he didn't really think twice.

He told the group chat - the one that Laswell and her wife, the one four one, Los Vaqueros, and Farah and Alex were in - that he had been in a relationship with you for years.

He thought carefully about which picture to send them, but chose for the one that he kept as his phone's wallpaper when he wasn't around them; it was a picture of you, wearing his beanie and kissing him when he had taken you to a Sabaton concert.

It had been raining, and he could still see the single raindrop that clung to your eyebrow as he smiled at it for a moment; he hit the send button, turned the phone off, and stuffed the phone back in its place.

"It's not clinging to the rocks and ivy, planted on their columns now that bind me or something that somebody said because they thought we fit together walking," he continued to sing softly, "it's just knowing that the world will not be cursing, or forgiving when I walk along some railroad track and find. That you're moving on the backroads by the rivers of my memory and for hours you're just gentle on my mind."

He didn't want to continue the song as he made himself comfortable next to you, a soft yawn leaving the back of his throat as he grumbled softly and dared to let out a soft sigh of content. "Let's see what the morning brings, eh, pup?"

#mlem writes #john price x reader #john price x y/n #john price x you #john price imagine #john price fluff #john price fic #cod john price #john price cod #john price call of duty #john price #captain john price x y/n #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price fic #captain john price imagine #captain john price #captain price x y/n #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain price imagines #captain price imagine #captain price call of duty #cod captain price #captain price cod #captain Price #cod x y/n #cod x reader #cod x you #cod reader insert

[babygirlfahey]

50 wesper

50: I need you to forgive me

It’s the middle of the night when Jesper gets home. He’s shaking. The place he ended up at kicked him out an hour ago and he’d wandered the streets of the Barrel like they were new, unfamiliar, like he had never seen them before. Once, that place had been home to him. Now it was just another reminder of his mistakes.

He’s broken, he knows this, some part of him is missing. Something he will never get back. He still hears the sound of the Makker’s wheel spinning when he’s trying to fall asleep. 

Selfishly, he hopes to find Wylan asleep, unaware of how late Jesper stayed out, unaware that he came home bruised and broke, as he often did when he still lived in the Barrel. He’d just hit a hundred days without gambling. He counted every single one. Maybe it was that number that scared him. Maybe when Wylan told him he was proud of him, Jesper had wanted to crush that feeling now so it wouldn’t hurt more later. Or maybe he just wanted to gamble. He can come up with an endless list of reasons for why he’d done it, none of them matter. He wanted to gamble so he did. Simple as that. 

Wylan’s in the kitchen. Jesper’s heartbeat picks up when he sees him. He almost expects Wylan to look different, but he doesn’t. He’s wearing the same clothes he was wearing when Jesper left. For a moment, he just stands in the doorway. He wants to cross the kitchen and crumble into Wylan’s arms, beg him to talk about this tomorrow, just so he can have one more night before Wylan kicks him out for being a fuck up. He doesn’t deserve that, though, he knows this. 

“I’m sorry,” he says but it comes out garbled, different, like he hasn’t spoken in days, so he clears his throat, tries again. “I’m really sorry, Wylan.”

“I was worried,” Wylan tells him. He sounds tired and almost calculated, like he’s picking his words very carefully. Jesper wants to look at him and can’t bear to. 

“I know,” it’s a stupid thing to say. Jesper’s never been the smart one. What will he do when Wylan no longer wants him? Will he go back to Novyi Zem or the Barrel? Will it matter?

“Do you need anything?” Wylan asks and Jesper startles, turns to frown at him in confusion. “Like a medik,” he explains, motioning to Jesper’s face. The bruises must be obvious, then. Jesper didn’t have the courage to look at his reflection after. He shakes his head. He wants it to hurt. He needs a reminder. 

“I need you to forgive me,” he tries, instead. Too quiet. Maybe he’s hoping Wylan doesn’t hear him. Maybe he wants to pretend he’s above begging. “Or at least give me until morning.”

“What?” 

“If you’re going to kick me out, please don’t do it tonight,” he says. He’d go back. He knows this. He’d sell the clothes on his body and anything else he could find. 

Wylan crosses the room to him. For a second, Jesper imagines Wylan pushing past him, telling him to pack his things and leave. Instead, Wylan’s hand finds his. 

“I’m not going to kick you out,” he says. Soft. Softer than he should be. Jesper blinks and then blinks again. Swallows. In front of him, Wylan stills, patient, waits for his words to settle. 

“Why not?”

There’s a long moment of silence and then Wylan tightens his grip on Jesper’s hand and pulls him towards a chair in their kitchen. 

“Saints,” he mumbles as he directs Jesper to sit down. “Do you really think I’d kick you out after one mistake?”

“I’m a fuck up. The mistakes will keep coming”

“You’re an addict,” Wylan corrects, firm. “And we’ll deal with them when they do.”

“But-”

“No buts, Jes,” he interrupts. “I’m going to make you tea and we’ll go to bed, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, but when Wylan goes to move away, Jesper doesn’t let go of his hand. “Just another moment,” he whispers. Wylan nods. Without thinking, Jesper leans forward against him, rests his forehead against Wylan’s chest. “I know we need to talk about it.”

“We do,” Wylan agrees, his other hand coming up to rest on the back of Jesper’s neck. “But we can do it tomorrow.”

#wesper #aj writes

[bloomingdead]

"your fanservice should not be as important to you as getting a well-written third game,"

sure because forbidden west and burning shores are peak writing and good development right? the pacing isnt a mess, the rushed relationships arent a mess, the villains are underdeveloped as fuck.... what the fuck you are talking about a "well written third game" over a bad written and rushed ship that would also be fanservice? just please. thanks to people like you who defend that shitty writing of seyloy we are going to have a big mess for the third game

“shitty writing” you either have never had a girlfriend that you didn’t meet through an app or you’re not sapphic. my girlfriend and i played the whole dlc together and felt it was such a natural development of the crush. especially between two ~20 year olds (seyka seems like she might be a lil bit older than aloy bc of her status as an officer). the worst part of the DLC was londra tbh. his “cult” felt underdeveloped and confusing. but sure, go off abt how seyloy ruined it instead of how it actually added something of more value. londra felt like he was just there to force gameplay while aloy and seyka’s relationship felt like the true focus imo.

who knows?? seyka could have been written for the third game before they decided to introduce her sooner in the dlc. forbidden west was actually really good and i don’t understand why you’re searching through the tags if you actually thought it and the dlc was bad. i haven’t defended seyloy or talked abt it in the tags in over a month. and tbh i’m getting tired of defending it because interacting with y’all is exhausting. you try to sprinkle in opinions with no foundation/proof about the main story to act like you’re not just upset about seyka. the true supporters and fans of guerrilla can peer through your thinly veiled bullshit to see that you and the others are just upset cuz you’re obsessed with your fav/kin ship and NOTHING else can compete with/replace it. just look at the quote you chose to reference. struck a nerve, did i?

you sound like a bunch of middle-schoolers with all the whining and bitching about something you don’t get to, NEVER WILL get to control. because it’s not your fucking story. and it’s not mine either. i’m not writing that shit! i’m just part of a vast audience of plenty of other people who don’t agree with you weirdo little diehard talanah/erend fuckers. don’t buy the games if you hate them so much, don’t pick up horizon 3 when it comes out. leave guerrilla (especially the writers), kylie, and ashly the fuck alone. you’re making those of us who ACTUALLY feel normally about this game look deranged. there’s so many things to be excited about that already exist in the games, so much to look forward to, and so much positive shit you could be focusing on. but you waste your time complaining about a 9/10 game. find something better to do with your time cuz even while hiding behind anon you’re embarrassing yourself.

#hfw #horizon #aloy #seyloy #seyka #asks #anon

[nerdzzone]

Another Ghost of Christmas Past

Summary: Chris returns to Massachusetts for the holidays after moving to L.A. in search of a successful acting career, but the Madeline he finds seems different than the one he left behind.

Part of the Back To You series

Note: There is some talk of body image issues related to Madeline’s life in the ballet world in this part of the story. I know that is a topic that can be upsetting for many people so please do what’s best for you if that’s something that may bother you!

-----

December 2000

Christmas had always been important to Chris. Spending time with his family with no interruptions or distractions was one of his favourite things in the world and since he’d moved to L.A, the holidays became even more important. He’d been away for far too long as far as he was concerned and spending so much time trying to force his way into an industry that was known for breaking hearts and crushing dreams had him feeling more than ready to have some time back home with the people who knew him best in a place that could offer him a consistent comforting familiarity.

However, it didn’t take him long to realized that something had changed.

The town was the same, his mom and his siblings were the same, the friendly and welcoming attitude of almost everyone he knew was the same. But something about Madeline was different.

When she didn’t respond to the voicemail he’d left on her parents' answering machine announcing his return home, he ignored the nagging feeling in his stomach. She was in the middle of a stretch of performances and he assumed that she was just busy with the show, but when he attended that show with his family on closing night and saw her on stage, the nagging feeling turned into a ball of anxiety as he could tell - even from across the theatre - that she wasn’t herself.

He would never claim to be an expert in anything to do with dancing, but he’d seen Madeline perform enough times to know that she wasn’t at her best. She seemed tired and flat - like all the passion that usually fueled every movement had been sucked out of her - and there were several times when she just looked entirely defeated. He spent more of the show analyzing her behaviour than he did actually following the story, but as he drove home with his family and they all gushed about her performance, Chris doubted himself again. Maybe he was reading too much into things and judging too harshly for someone who’d been away for so many months and hadn’t always been great at staying in touch. He had to admit that he wasn’t very up to date in Madeline’s life anymore and realized that there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation for the shift that he’d noticed.

So, later that night he found himself wandering down to his brother’s bedroom to get a more expert opinion, unable to settle without getting some answers.

“Hey,” he leaned through the doorway, knocking to draw Scott’s attention away from the video game he was playing on the tiny TV in the corner of his room. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

The edge of nervous hesitation in Chris’ voice had Scott quickly nodding as he paused his game.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Hopefully nothing,” Chris sighed. “But I was just wondering if everything is okay with Madeline?”

“I think so,” Scott nodded. “I haven’t really seen her much outside of school lately because she’s been so busy with her dance stuff, but she’s seemed fine when I’ve talked to her. Why?”

“Do you think she seemed off tonight? During her performance, it just didn’t seem like she was at the same level that she normally is...”

He’d tried to phrase the question in a way that didn’t sound like he was being harsh, but the snort of laughter that Scott let out had him thinking that he’d missed the mark.

“Wow, I didn’t realize that you picked up a job as a dance critic while you were in L.A,” Scott teased, making Chris’ cheeks tinge pink. “She seemed a little tired, but she’s been rehearsing non-stop for this and it was the last night of a week of performances so I’m not surprised.”

“Yeah? You think that’s all it is?”

“Probably,” Scott shrugged. “But if you’re really worried about it, you can ask her tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“At brunch,” Scott informed him as if it was obvious, rolling his eyes when Chris looked baffled. “Mom told us in the car, we’re going over to Maddie’s for brunch tomorrow to celebrate the closing of her show.”

He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he must have missed that announcement, but he felt a wave of relief that he’d be seeing her soon. Despite Scott’s nonchalant response to his concerns, he couldn’t shake them and he was eager to see for himself that he was just worrying over nothing.

However, when the time came he realized that his concerns might have been more deserved than he was expecting them to be.

Her mother had met them at the door the next morning and after taking a brief moment to chat with her, Chris headed off in search of Madeline. He found her in the kitchen, looking through a cupboard as her dad was busy cooking up what appeared to be enough food to feed an army and he smiled at the sight of her.

“Welcome home, Chris!”

Greg’s shouted greeting pulled his eyes away from his friend, but he noticed as he went to answer that Madeline didn’t even turn away from whatever she was searching for to glance over at him.

“Thanks, it’s good to be back,” Chris smiled as he moved to lean on the island in the middle of the room just behind where Madeline was standing. “And your show was great last night, Maddie. I’m really glad I made it home in time to come.”

He saw Madeline tense before the sound of a cupboard slamming filled the room as she spun around to face him.

“You don’t have to be so patronizing!”

The look of fury in her eyes and the sharp tone of her words had Chris’ eyebrows wrinkling in confusion.

“What?”

“We all know I fucked up last night,” she informed him, the hostility still ringing through clearly in her voice. “Just because you’re living your big Hollywood life now doesn’t mean you have to treat me like a child and sugar coat the truth!”

Without even giving Chris time to process her accusations, Madeline turned on her heel and stormed from the room leaving Chris sitting in stunned silence with his jaw dropped as he fumbled for something to say. With a heavy sigh that did nothing to ease Chris’ anxiety, Greg turned away from what he was frying on the stove to face him.

“Don’t take it personally,” he assured him. “She’s going through something right now. She won’t talk to us about it, but she hasn’t been herself lately.”

While there was a slight feeling of vindication that his instinct had been right, Greg’s admission put him very on edge. Madeline’s parents were her best friends. Not in a sad, lonely way but the Daniels had always been incredibly close and for something to be bothering her that she wasn’t comfortable sharing with her parents, Chris knew it had to be serious and the cloud of worry in Greg’s eyes told him that he’d made that assumption as well.

“Can I go talk to her?”

His question earned a look of surprise from Madeline’s father, but after a moment of hesitation as if he was waiting for Chris to take the words back, he simply shrugged.

“Go right ahead. I hope you have more luck than we’ve had lately.”

Chris nodded and slowly dragged himself towards the door, trying to formulate some kind of strategy to tackle the situation. He hadn’t had much experience being on the receiving end of any frustration from Madeline - usually they were on the same team and always had each other’s backs - but his confusion only grew as he approached her room and could hear the soft sounds of her crying.

Spurred on by her apparent misery, Chris knocked on the door before cracking it open. She was frantically wiping her eyes, trying to hide her upset from the unexpected interruption, but as soon as she saw Chris in the doorway, she crumbled again.

“I’m so sorry, Chris!”

The words left her mouth as a sob and had Chris quickly closing the door behind him as he entered the room before walking over to sit near her on the bed. She was sitting up with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible and Chris left some space between them to avoid making her feel crowded.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, keeping his voice soft. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I was a bitch,” Madeline reminded him. “You were just trying to be nice and I screamed at you like a lunatic.”

“You were a little bit crazy,” Chris admitted, flashing her a weak smile and feeling a hint of relief when he caught her fighting back one of her own. “But obviously you’re upset about something so I get it. Are you mad at me?”

“No,” Madeline sniffled. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Well, you did yell at me downstairs,” he pointed out. “And you didn’t call me back when I left you a message the other day.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve just been really busy with the show and I’ve been really…stressed.”

Her admission had Chris feeling like she was opening the door to a conversation so he gently pushed her for more information.

“How come?”

“I just am…”

She shrugged nonchalantly, but the emotion in her voice gave her away and Chris knew her well enough to keep trying before she clamped up completely again.

“I really wanna help you, Maddie,” he insisted. “But you’ve gotta give me more to go on then that.”

He watched as she bit her lip as if she was fighting to keep her thoughts from bursting out, but as her eyes filled with a fresh batch of tears she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m too fat to be a ballerina.”

If she hadn’t been so distraught, he would have laughed at such an outlandish claim, but the crack in her voice and her sudden inability to look him in the eye took any humour out of the situation.

“What?” Chris fumbled for words when his shock subsided enough for him to speak. “Says who?!”

“The choreographer for the Nutcracker,” she admitted. “And he’s a professional, he knows what he’s talking about.”

“Clearly not,” Chris scoffed, his jaw tightening as his outrage washed over him. “But he actually said that to you?”

He knew that over the years several of Madeline’s teachers had made comments about the ideal body type of a ballerina that could have been crushing to her self-esteem, but she’d always shrugged it off and never let it get under her skin. The fact that whatever this man had said to her had her so devastated made him almost blindingly angry.

“Not exactly,” she admitted. “But he was picking on me all the time. He kept telling me to ‘tuck my bum in’ which is, like, really hard to do when it just sticks out because it’s big and not because of the angle of your hips. He said that the way I ‘jiggle’ when I dance would distract the audience and in our final rehearsal he said that there was just ‘too much of me’ and I should probably look into another hobby.”

Her voice broke at the end of her sentence as tears streamed steadily down her cheeks which were burning red with embarrassment and Chris knew the pain of that last remark was two-fold for Madeline. Dancing wasn’t a hobby for her - it was her passion, her life and her biggest dream to make it as a professional - and to have someone minimize that to a hobby and therefore suggest she didn’t take it seriously probably hurt her more than anything else he’d said. He’d experienced similar comments as he tried to make his passion into a career and he knew how disheartening it could be. 

However, the rest of the things she’d shared had him filled with a rage that he’d never felt before in his life. His fists clenched as they were twitching to be used and he could feel his temperature rising as if his blood was actually boiling, but he took a deep breath to calm himself as he knew that the broken girl in front of him needed comfort in that moment more than she needed avenging.

“Madeline, you know that’s not true,” he insisted. “No one with a brain would describe you as fat and most of the weight that you do have is muscle.”

“Muscle isn’t always good,” Madeline argued. “I think my butt’s mostly muscle and now that’s a problem.”

Chris shot her an incredulous look as he struggled to wrap his head around what she was saying.

“I know women in L.A. who would pay a lotta money to have an ass like yours,” he informed her, smiling when his comment earned a snort of laughter even if it was half-hearted. “But why have you been puttin’ up with this guy? Why didn’t you tell your parents what’s going on?”

“Because I’ve been trying to fix it myself and I didn’t want anyone to freak out or get all worried.”

Her inability to look him in the eye had returned and it had Chris suddenly feeling nervous about what she was implying.

“Fix it how?”

“I’ve been really careful about what I eat, trying to lose a little weight so I didn’t stand out too much at the show, but it’s been really hard and I’m just really hungry…”

The last word fell from her lips like a whisper and Chris felt his anxiety shooting up again. He knew that it was a delicate situation and one that Madeline needed to be pulled out of before it got any worse, but he felt entirely under qualified to be the one to coach her through it. However, the fact that she’d chosen to confide in him showed that she wanted someone to help her so he fought through the weight of the pressure he was feeling and tried to think of the right thing to say.

“You need to stop that right now, Maddie.” He tried to keep his voice firm, but gentle enough that she wouldn’t feel judged or cornered. He knew how stubborn she could be and he didn’t want her to continue on the path she appeared to be headed down just to spite him. “One of the guys I met in L.A. is a trainer at a gym so I asked him for some tips recently and he said the most important thing is to make sure you eat enough. If you’re working out or exercising, you need to fuel your body and food is that fuel. You’re an athlete, you need that when you’re dancing for seventeen hours a day.”

“I don’t dance for seventeen hours a day.” Madeline rolled her eyes dismissively, but she seemed to take in his words when she spoke again. “But it has been harder to find the energy to dance at all since I changed my diet. I’m so tired all the time.”

“I’m not surprised, this idiot has got it all wrong. You’re good at what you do the way you are now, but you can’t perform at a professional level if you starve yourself until you look like a skeleton.”

“But,” Madeline paused, her lip quivering as she fought back the tears that had resurfaced in her eyes. “What if no one wants to watch me dance if I don’t?”

His heart broke at the genuine look of pain in her eyes. This man had clearly gotten into her head and knowing how much time and energy Madeline had put in to her goal of being a professional ballerina, it wasn’t hard for him to imagine how much she was struggling with the thought of having to torture herself every day if she wanted to achieve her dreams.

“Then it’s not worth it…” He kept his voice soft as he knew that would be a hard thing for her to accept, but he hoped that it was a reminder that would stick in her mind even as he rushed to reassure her. “But that’s bullshit, Madeline. Watching you dance is always special and that’s coming from someone who has pretty much zero interest in going to a ballet.”

Madeline flashed him a weak smile, but any relief that gave him was wiped away when she replied.

“That’s why you’re not a good judge,” she pointed out. “I appreciate your support, but you think I’m good just because you know me, not because you’re looking at it objectively. You can’t see my flaws as well as a stranger can.”

“No, I can’t see your flaws because there aren’t any,” Chris insisted, his temper flaring again slightly at her doubts of his sincerity. “You’re so fucking talented, you’ve been top of your class every year until this one asshole came along and knocked your confidence. You’re gonna rule the ballet world one day, I know it, and you’re going to do it by being yourself, not by hurting yourself to meet the expectation of some dumbass.”

His rant concluded with a huff, but to his surprise Madeline seemed to visibly relax despite his harsh tone.

“You really mean that? You’re not just saying all this because you want to make me feel better? You don’t think I need to lose weight?”

There was a hopefulness to her questions that had Chris thinking that he’d finally gotten through to her and while he was glad that it hadn’t been a difficult process, he wished she’d spoken to someone sooner. Her eagerness to believe him told him that she knew in her heart what was true and all her stress could have been avoided if she’d reached out to someone sooner.

“Of course I mean it, I wouldn’t lie to you, Maddie,” he assured her. “You’re perfect as you are and it’ll only make you a worse dancer if you start obsessing about that.”

“Okay, well after last night I think you’re right about that,” Madeline nodded, wiping the wetness from her eyes. “The things he said were just so humiliating and he’s supposed to be such an expert.”

“Yeah, well, sounds like he’s an idiot,” Chris scoffed as he stood up from the bed and held out a hand. “C’mon, I wanna take you somewhere real quick.”

Madeline’s eyebrows wrinkled together in confusion as she took his hand and let him help her stand up.

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

“Chris,” she frowned. “I’m a mess, my make-up must be smeared all over my face.”

Her mascara had run and he had to admit it looked a bit distraught, but he was determined.

“Okay, you go wash your face while I get Ma’s car keys and I’ll meet you outside.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Madeline agreed and Chris shot her a reassuring smile before jogging down the stairs and back into the kitchen. He was greeted by hopefully expectant looks from his mother and Madeline’s parents, but he knew that any information he’d gathered wasn’t his to share and decided to cut to the chase.

“Ma, can I borrow your car?”

Her face fell as it clouded with concern.

“Why? Where are you going?”

“Brunch will be ready in about half an hour,” Greg cut in. “Is everything okay?”

“I think so, I think she’s gonna be fine,” Chris nodded. “And I promise we’ll be back in time for brunch.”

There was an air of nervous confusion lingering in the room, but after exchanging a look with Madeline’s mother that Chris couldn’t quite read, Lisa took her keys out of her purse and held them out to Chris. He reached out to take them from her hand, but she didn’t let go and caught his gaze as she gave him a stern look.

“Is she really okay?” She waited for Chris to nod before she continued. “Take care of her, okay?”

He felt a flash of annoyance at her request because he did always take care of her - Scott was the one who got her into trouble and he was the one who picked up the pieces, it was the way it had always been and he wasn’t about to break that tradition anytime soon - but he knew that they must’ve all been worried about her strange behaviour so he settled for simply nodding his head. Seemingly happy with that reassurance, Lisa let go of her keys and let Chris hurry out the door to meet Madeline.

-

“Where are we going?”

Madeline had been fighting the urge to repeat her earlier unanswered question since they’d got in the car, but after five minutes of driving in silence, she couldn’t fight it any longer.

“You’ll see,” Chris smiled as they turned off the main road. “We’re almost there.”

They didn’t live in a big town and Madeline probably could have tried to puzzle out where their destination was, but with her mind otherwise occupied, she settled for huffing dramatically at Chris as she turned to look out the window. However, moments later when they pulled into a parking lot, she realized where he’d taken her.

Her favourite bakery that was known for their amazing donuts.

“Chris…”

Even she wasn’t sure if her tone was accusatory or grateful, but Chris ignored her either way.

“Just wait here, I’ll be right back.”

When Chris returned to the car with a giant box and a proud smile, Madeline rolled her eyes.

“I’m not eating twelve donuts, Chris.”

“I know you’re not, they’re not all for you,” he chuckled. “But we’re going to eat one now and then take the rest home for everyone else.”

As he opened the box to reveal the beautifully decorated festive donuts inside, Madeline was torn. She found herself almost drooling at the sight of them as her stomach rumbled from the smell, but despite Chris’ earlier reassurances, she still felt a pang of anxiety. She’d spent a month obsessing over her diet and she knew just how many calories and how much sugar there was in those donuts. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, forced to choose between refusing Chris and jumping off the edge into a world she might not be able to pull herself out of or taking a donut from the box, trusting her gut and walking away from the misery she’d been putting herself through for the last month.

In her heart, she knew the right thing to do. She’d never hated her body. She wasn’t as thin as some of the other dancers, but she’d always liked the way her muscles gave her some extra curves and the genetics that led to her being slightly less flat chested then several girls in her class had never been an issue for her in the past. However, the humiliation and doubt that the choreographer's comments about her body had caused was something she would do anything to never feel again - even if that meant skipping a donut.

But when she saw the look in Chris’ eyes, she was powerless to resist. It was a look of hopefulness, but it was buried under a layer of worry. Knowing how much it would disappoint him and escalate his concern if she turned down what he was offering her, she reached into the box and picked out a donut. Because letting Chris down was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

She could see him visibly relax out of the corner of her eye, but the absolute joy she felt as she bit into the snack in her hands soon became all she could think about. The sweetness, the flavour, the indulgence - it had her completely distracted until she realized she’d finished the entire thing before Chris was even halfway through his own.

“I really needed that,” she sheepishly admitted, wiping a smear of icing off her lip. “Thank you, Chris.”

He waved her off as he swallowed a bite of the sticky treat.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m just happy that you told me what was going on.”

“I don’t think I could hold it in much longer. I felt like I was going to explode.”

“I gotta say, I’m surprised you didn’t tell Scott.”

“Are you?” Madeline raised an eyebrow. “I love him, but he can be a little emotional sometimes. He would have panicked and immediately told my parents.”

Chris chuckled as he nodded and took another bite of his donut before he commented.

“Well, I’m surprised you didn’t tell your parents either, they seemed pretty worried.”

A wave of guilt washed over her as she knew that he was right and their worry had only been exacerbated by how horrible she’d been treating them. The stress of hiding her inner turmoil and the irritability of being hungry all of the time had made her short-tempered and snappy and she knew they’d taken the brunt of her delicate emotions.

“I know,” she sighed. “But I didn’t want them to get upset and I knew my dad would be so mad if I told him what the choreographer said. I didn’t want him, like, attacking him or anything.”

“Maybe me and your dad can track him down together because it sounds like he needs someone to teach him a lesson,” Chris practically growled, ignoring Madeline’s firm refusal of that suggestion. “Do you have to work with this guy again?”

“No,” Madeline assured him, insistently shaking her head. “They brought him in from New York so he was just around for this stretch of performances.”

“Good,” Chris huffed, his clenched jaw relaxing slightly at that news. “But you should tell your parents now.”

“Maybe, but I still wouldn’t want them to worry.”

Chris shot her a skeptical look, but Madeline simply shrugged in response and a silence settled between them. She watched as he finished his donut, feeling a mix of gratitude and longing wash over her. She was so glad that he’d returned and thankful - as always - for his support, but knowing that it was temporary and he’d be leaving again soon had her feeling a familiar melancholy sadness that she’d been wallowing in quite a lot since he’d left. He caught her eye as he licked his fingers clean and she flashed him a weak smile.

“I really miss you, Chris,” she admitted. “It’s hard here without you sometimes.”

“I miss you too,” he nodded in agreement. “It’s hard being out there without you guys sometimes too.”

“You’re just saying that,” Madeline teased. “I bet you don’t even have time to think about us at all while you’re living it up in L.A.”

“I’ve been too busy trying to get a job to be ‘living it up’,” Chris scoffed, but after a moment of thought, his eyes lit up. “But I do think about you a lot, I even got you something.”

He shifted his hips to reach into his pocket, but Madeline frowned.

“I thought we all agreed not to get each other presents this year.”

“It’s not a Christmas present,” he assured her, pulling out a bracelet. “It’s a crystal. It’s garnet and it’s supposed to bring you good luck in your career.”

Madeline took the bracelet from him and admired the beauty of the thin black strap and deep red stone and as much as she wanted to crack a joke about L.A. turning him into some kind of mystical hippie, she was too touched by the gesture to say anything that might hurt his feelings.

“Thank you, Chris. That’s really thoughtful and it’s so pretty.”

“I thought you’d like the colour,” Chris smiled proudly. “I was gonna send it before your show, but I had some auditions so I held onto it a little longer than I planned.”

Madeline let out a soft gasp of shock and shot him a look of mock incredulity.

“You stole my good luck?”

“I borrowed it,” Chris clarified with a chuckle. “But I don’t think it works anyway, it didn’t help me very much.”

That admission made Madeline’s smile fall as she often worried about Chris and how he was really doing in his search for success. She knew how passionate he was about acting and she knew how talented he was, but she also knew a lot of passionate, talented people were still crushed by the world of Hollywood and while she believed in Chris wholeheartedly, she couldn’t help but worry that he would get hurt too.

“Your auditions didn’t go well?”

“I thought they did,” Chris shrugged. “But I didn’t hear back from any of them. It’s just the way it goes though, you get pretty used to hearing ‘no’ in the world of acting.”

“Well, they’re going to regret it,” Madeline huffed. “One day you’re going to be the guy that everyone wants to star in their movie and these stupid casting directors will be begging you to work with them.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” he smiled. “But it’s fine, it just motivates me to work even harder.”

The conviction in his voice put Madeline at ease and she shot him a smirk.

“Alright, well, if you ever need me to come set someone straight, you just let me know.”

“Oh, yeah?” Chris raised an eyebrow at that offer. “And how would you do that?”

“I dunno,” Madeline shrugged. “Make some threats, bust some kneecaps? Whatever it takes.”

Chris tossed his head back as he laughed at the idea of tiny little Madeline hurting anyone, but he shook his head as he regained his composure.

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re allowed to bust kneecaps for me, but I’m not allowed to fuck up the asshole who hurt you?”

“Yes,” Madeline nodded, eyeing him suspiciously. “Because the difference is that I’m joking, but I’m not sure that you are.”

“I’m not sure that I am either,” Chris sighed, knowing that he wouldn’t actually do anything reckless however badly he wanted to. “But we should probably get back before we’re late for brunch.”

He passed Madeline the box of donuts to hold as he drove, but she wrinkled her nose at the suggestion.

“Are you sure we have to? I should probably warn you that my dad’s pretty determined to get some charades going later.”

“Warn me?” Chris questioned as he started up the car. “You make it sound like a bad thing, I love charades!”

“Really? Isn’t it just like working for free for you these days?”

“Nah, it’s still fun,” he assured her. “And all my auditions are just really good practice so I’ll be extra prepared to kick your ass.”

His claim had a snort of laughter falling from Madeline’s lips as she rolled her eyes.

“Well, it’s nice to see that constant rejection hasn’t broken your competitive spirit at all,” she teased. “But how do you know we won’t be on the same team?”

“Because we won’t be if I get to choose,” he informed her. “You’re an amazing dancer, but I’ve seen your acting skills and they’re not good.”

Madeline let out a scoff of protest as she swatted at his arm, but despite his rude jokes, she had to admit that she was in a much better mood than she’d been in for weeks. The relief of not carrying the weight of her worries all alone was enough to put her at ease, but her time spent with Chris had been a good reminder of what was really important. 

She had so many people who loved her and supported her and whose opinions matter far more than one cruel man who seemed to find joy in breaking her spirit. She’d never been the kind of girl to let people beat her down and as they walked into her house and were greeted by the smell of amazing food and the sounds of an extended family full of love, she found herself feeling more determined than ever to stay true to herself and prove to anyone who doubted her that she could conquer the ballet world without changing at all.

-

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