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that-house · 4 months

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Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.

Remember that song from the beginning?

The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?

We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?

Let me off, let me in

Let others battle

We don’t need to battle

And we both shall win

Pressed in my palm

Was a stone from the beach

The perfect circle

Gave a moment of peace

Now I’m lying on the floor

Like I’m not worth a chair

I close my eyes and imagine

I’m not there.

#neon-grey-writing #potion vendor faq #my writing #very very very long post lol #click the read more you know you wanna it's worth it trust me #i wrote the original draft of this at like. 3 am back in early 2023 #that's right it's catherine that-house the squares comic gal back at it again with yet another meta exploration of a storytelling format

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fairuzfan · 3 months

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Hello. I just got in contact with a group in Seattle making "solidarity" art and I wanted to know what that means to you. Is acknowledging the horrors in Gaza the most effective way to make Palestinians feel seen? Or is there more value in incorporating symbols of resilience, like olive trees, watermelons, and spoons?

By acknowledging, I mean create something enraging, like depicting the drastically different living conditions on the Palestinian and Israeli sides of the border wall. Healthy people in open farmland on one side and a warzone on the other. Or is it better to include a little hope? One idea I've been mulling over is painting a Palestinian child and IDF solider in a way that suggests David and Goliath (I found out the most common charge against Palestinian youths is throwing rocks). Another is Gaza as a torn tapestry with Mother Palestine sewing over and repairing the rips with tatreez.

I guess the real question is: Do you think most Palestinians would appreciate an attempt at comfort, or is it better to simply grieve with them?

Thank you so much for sending this in. My personal take is the most inspiring imagery are symbols of resistance. For example, this poster is embedded in many Palestinians' minds (click) as a prime example of resistance. I love images of olives and flowers not because they're soft, but because they represent life to me. Something I also adore is Rafeef Ziadah's poem "We Teach Life, Sir" and Samah Fadil's "Then, A Palestinian was Born," as words that speak to me as core parts of Palestinian resistance.

I think you can definitely mix strength and grief, or comfort and grief together when talking about Palestine. Refaat said it best: "the most dangerous thing I have is an expo marker but if an Israeli soldier were to come to my house I would use that expo marker and throw it at them." To us, the idea that we have to resist is grief and the grief moves us to resist. I personally really love the david and golaith imagery because it reminds me of the poster below.

I guess this is all to say that you can mix them together, the grief of seeing people dying and the strength of resistance against the oppression. What's the most effective thing is portraying the truth: Israel kills and Palestine resists.

Here is the image. I highly encourage everyone to print out this poster and post it around town if you're able. Or even post it around social media if you can, and link back to palarchive so that people can see there's so much palestinian art and history that they can explore.

#palestine #gaza

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loaksky · 11 months

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— 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒖𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆 | 𝒂. 𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏

emt!abby x clumsy fem!reader, fluff / angst / smut (mdni!), wc: 8.8k (abby makes me ill).

synopsis: abby’s recuperating from a rocky relationship. tending to you more than once has gotta be fate.

content warnings: language, 18+ content (MDNI!): fingering (abby & reader receiving), oral (abby receiving), standard emotional constipation, non-graphic depictions of injuries / blood. let me know if i miss anything! not proofread well!

tagging those who interacted with my interest post! @eden-nox , @feeeeebbb , @thecowardwrites , @dawn-bunni , @dykefromstatefarm , @kingofcrabs17 , @deadliebalboa , @caitlinisfruity , @matchabxba , @abbysidechick

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

THE FIRST TIME ABBY TENDS TO YOU is an embarrassing circumstance all its own. And not necessarily because you’d hurt yourself, but because of one meddling little sibling in particular.

It’s nearly 2am in the morning, a little brisk outside of the apartment complex, and Abby’s trailing behind her rotation partners up three rickety flights of stairs.

“Seattle EMS!”

The door’s flying open and a frantic girl no older than fifteen is ushering the trio in the apartment.

“It’s my sister,” she says quickly. “She cut her hand with a knife. Won’t stop bleeding.”

Abby’s observing her surroundings, eyes flitting around the space as they file quickly down the hallway, walls neatly littered with polaroids, picture frames, and various other decorations and knickknacks.

As they spill into the living room, Abby’s eyes settle on you, sitting on the coffee table in nothing but an oversized tee and some boyshorts.

There are tiny smears of red across your thighs, right hand applying pressure to your left palm with a wad of paper towels. One look at your face shows draining color and Abby’s setting the duffel on the floor.

“Need her rate and blood pressure,” one of her partners says. “Anderson, can you assess the damage?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Abby says, kneeling in front of you.

She swears she feels a jolt of electricity pass through her nitrile gloves when her fingertips brush your skin. You’re shaky, eyes droopy because you’ve never been great with blood.

“I’m gonna take a look,” Abby says softly, coaxing the paper towels away from you. “That okay?”

You nod, hair falling into your face as she turns your palm over to analyze the wound.

“Sheesh,” she whispers. “What’d you do?”

When you’re silent for a moment, warmth momentarily returning to your cheeks as embarrassment floods your system, Abby’s eyes swing to your younger sister who’s seemingly clocked the considerable tension between you and the hot EMT.

“We were making brownies,” she fills in helpfully. “Big sis was chopping up the nuts.”

One of Abby’s partners chuckles, the one filling out the paperwork, and Abby glances at you again, something niggling in the pit of her stomach when she sees the flustered way you bite your lip.

“Personally not a fan of nuts in my brownies, but that’s a hill I’ll die on.”

Abby’s trying to distract you, take your mind away from a the gnarly gash cut deep in your palm line. It works, she thinks, when you crack a small smile.

“Me neither,” you agree, and it’s the first words you say all night.

Your voice has a sweet rasp, one that makes Abby’s gut twist.

“Guess this means nuts really are a no go,” you say, hissing momentarily when Abby makes start with cleaning your wound.

For a moment she forgets you’re talking about brownies and your little sister’s searing gaze should be confirmation enough, but after gathering all of your important information and spending the next forty-five minutes cleaning you up, Abby’s being stopped in her tracks as they file out of the cramped living room.

Your little sister catches her as the two other techs swing into the third floor hallway.

“My big sis is gay, FYI,” she giggles mischievously. “Like real gay.”

You call her name, absolutely horrified.

Abby can’t help the smile that splits her face.

“Mmm, good to know.”

You’d barely recovered from that moment, still reeling nearly a week later after your failed sleepover party with your little sister that ended in the hottest tech seeing you in the worst condition possible.

And while you thank every force above that Abby hadn’t seemed too perturbed by your sibling’s antics, it’s still something that makes you rub the heel of your palms into your eyes and kick your feet in annoyance before bed.

But just when you think you’re finally getting over it, you cross paths again.

Fate has a cruel way of flexing its humor because you’re turning an especially crowded corner in the freezer section of Whole Foods when your toe catches the corner display.

“Shit!” you hiss, basket clattering to the floor.

Your jar of extra garlic-y marinara is rolling away and a few of your lemons are scattering between avoidant feet.

“Hey, you alright?”

And you’ve heard that voice before, familiar hum haunting your dreams for the past week and a half.

You look up just as the body associated with the voice crouches in front of you, pasta sauce in one hand and trio of lemons in the other.

Of course it’s Abby in all of her glory. Her hair is loosened from her braid, falling over her broad shoulders as she searches your face. She’s in her work polo, few buttons undone and belt somewhat loosened.

Something akin to recognition flashes over her features as she takes you in.

“Thanks,” you whisper when she rights your basket and carefully sets the runaway items inside.

“You’re always hurting yourself,” she teases, standing to her full height before offering her hand out to you.

For a moment you were caught up, so engrossed in seeing Abby again like a direct manifestation of your very fears (and a wet dream or two), that you hadn’t noticed that people were staring.

Your face is hot as your fingers brush her palm and she’s hoisting you up like you weigh nothing. When you shift your weight to the foot you’d tripped on, your face screws up in discomfort.

Abby’s scarily perceptive, equal parts because it comes with the job even when she’s off duty, and also because it’s you. She doesn’t know what’s so different about you, especially because she hasn’t bat an eye at another girl in the past seven months since her previous break-up, but she can’t take her eyes off of you. She’s certain her pupils are blown wide by now.

“Does it hurt?” she asks, steadying you with warm hands.

Abby has to force herself to glance up at you when she happens to notice the way your chest hitches, pendant on the dainty chain that rests between the divot of your collarbones glinting under the fluorescents.

“A little,” you admit.

Abby doesn’t hesitate to take your basket alongside hers and offers you a perfectly sculpted arm.

God you could actually combust, not only because you’re beyond embarrassed but because Abby’s too fucking hot for her own good.

“Easy,” she tells you as you move through the aisles slowly.

She’s guiding you to a quiet corner in the foodcourt, setting you gently against the bench before plopping down next to you.

Your lips part to thank her, tell her that you’ll just rest here for a moment before going about your day, but she’s lifting your leg into her lap and undoing the strap of your sandal wordlessly.

“Oh—”

Her gaze swings to yours.

“Gotta get a better look,” she tells you with an easy smile, fingers gentle around your ankle.

She starts rolling, testing your range of motion. When your expression pinches, she’s rummaging through her basket, only to produce a frozen bag of peas a few moments later.

“Doesn’t look like any bruising is forming and you’ve got your full range of motion,” she observes. “Just a rolled ankle. Nothing some ice won’t fix.”

You stare at her unblinking, nodding stupidly as she applies a slight amount of pressure with the frozen vegetables.

“I, ah—” you let out a low hiss and Abby shouldn’t lick her lips, but her mouth’s dry and the skin of your legs are like butter. “I think I’ll be okay.”

The concern that shades Abby’s features makes you squirm on the bench, ankle still propped in her lap.

“Did you drive?” Abby presses, and she knows that this is a bad idea.

The two of you could be on your way, paths officially untangling, but something inside of her is compelled, tugged hard at the sight of you.

“No…” you trail off sheepishly. “I walked.”

Abby’s lips part, words escaping her before she can stop and think twice.

“I’ll walk you home,” she offers.

“Oh, Abby, you don’t have to do that,” you say gently.

It’s like someone squeezes the air from her lungs at the sound of her name leaving your lips in a rasped hum, makes her wet her lips again because her mouth’s gone dry.

“You’re probably really busy, I don’t want to be a bother,” you add with a soft smile.

“You wouldn’t be,” she assures you. “Just wanna make sure you make it home safe.”

And it’s such a sweet sentiment, one that makes warmth bloom in your chest and your tummy. But there’s a dull ache, a squeeze that makes your thighs involuntarily press together. It’s barely perceptible and you hope to whatever’s in the universe that Abby’s not keen when it comes to body language.

The planes of her face are serious, bump on the bridge of her nose pronounced as you watch the set of her jaw. Fuck, did you want her bad, feel embarrassment creeping because if anyone nearby could intercept your brain, they’d find a slew of less than appropriate thoughts accompanying the more tame.

Without another word, Abby’s hooking your sandal back on, patting your shin gently before setting you right and gathering the combination of your groceries and hers.

You make a move to follow her, but she levels you with a warning glare.

“Stay put,” she urges. “I’ll take care of it.”

“But, Abby—” you splutter.

Your name is stern on her lips and another dull ache ebbs as she stands over you in her uniform, muscles stretching the fabric taut.

She’s off a moment later and after what seems like an eternity waiting almost helplessly, Abby returns with a few paper bags. She’s stuffing the receipt in her pocket and your expression shifts, lips pursing.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask as soon as she offers her elbow to you.

“Don’t worry about it,” she quips, body tensing in the slightest as she acclimates all over again to the feeling of you clinging to her. “Now let’s get you home.”

“Abby!” you whine, drawing her name out petulantly.

It’s so domestic, all of it. Carrying your groceries with your arms looped through hers and the two of you strolling down the sidewalk to accommodate your hurt foot.

“What?” she mocks, and you can’t help but smile.

“You’ll be late for work,” you say softly, unable to stop the passing observation of how sturdy she feels against you.

“I’m off.”

And something like relief, excitement, jolts at the thought. Makes you hush the rest of the way to your apartment building like the courage is still brewing.

The middle-aged woman that sits at her desk in the lobby and plays Candy Crush half of shift pauses to spare the two of you a passing glance as you walk in, eyebrows raising and lips twitching.

“Afternoon, Marianne,” you greet sheepishly.

“Good afternoon,” she parrots, rolling her lips to hide the amused grin threatening to spread.

Abby is none-the-wiser as her eyes flit around the lobby in search for the elevators.

The ride up ends up being shrouded in total silence save for the whirring of the lift’s gears and your shallow breaths. For a moment, Abby wonders if she’s overstepped. If she’s made you uncomfortable and read all the signs wrong.

As the two of you approach your door, the very one her and her coworkers had banged on a little over a week ago, she’s trying to come up with the words to apologize, tell you that she really just wanted to make sure you were okay.

(Even though she’ll only ever admit to herself that perhaps part of it was self-indulgent and the softness of your skin was like a high).

But you’re beating her to it, untangling to shift your weight to your uninjured foot and turning to face her.

“Do you…” You swallow and blink once, then twice, gathering the rest of your courage. “Do you wanna come in?”

Oh— Abby hadn’t been expecting that. She’d been expecting you to fumble with your groceries and close the door in her face for good. But now you’re looking up at her through thick lashes and a shy grin and all she can think to herself in this moment is that she’s a goner.

“I’m making dinner,” you add. “If you’d like to stay.”

Another slice of domesticity that has Abby’s wires crossing.

“Sure,” she agrees easily, and it takes everything inside of her not to teem with too much excitement when you turn to slot your key into the lock and the door springs open.

Your apartment is just how she remembers it from the little details she’d picked up the last time she was here. That same scent of lemons and what she thinks could be incense. Though it’d felt a little out of line, unprofessional to be too engrossed in her surroundings the first time, especially when her eyes caught a particularly suggestive photo among the wall hosting polaroids.

You’re with a group of girl friends, bent over in a too short skirt so that the swell of your ass is pressed to the girl in the center’s front. The shot gives a perfect eyeful of your cleavage in a tiny little triangle bikini top and the cherry on top is the pair of red cat-eye glasses sliding down the bridge of your nose as you wink at whoever is behind the camera.

You pause at the end of the hallway when you notice Abby’s no longer close behind.

“Looks like somebody knows how to have a good time,” she observes jokingly, but her cheeks are so incredibly warm because christ you’re beautiful.

You’re sheepish.

“Definitely retired from that life,” you tell her, and she notes that the neat sharpie dates back nearly six summers ago. “Now I like to bake with my little sister and injure myself.”

Abby can’t help the smile when you start gazing at all the other polaroids tacked into a heart formation on the crisp white walls.

“You seem like the life of the party,” Abby says, eyes lingering on another polaroid of you in what seems to be a dorm room with a joint pinched between your fingers, sporting a feather boa, a paper crown that says ‘birthday girl’ and those same red sunglasses.

You huff out a laugh.

“I wouldn’t say that...”

She wonders if she’ll see that side of you. So far you seem so quiet, reserved. It makes her want to peel away the layers and learn you.

The thought makes her blink hard.

“Kitchen’s this way,” you say after a few moments pass, turning on your heel to pad down the hall and swing left.

Light pours from where you flip the switch to the kitchen’s fluorescents.

Abby finds that the living room and kitchen is far tidier than the last time she’d been here, obviously cleaned after the entire baking debacle with your little sister.

My big sis is gay, like real gay. The words were like a subtle push. One that made Abby weigh the potential.

She’s setting the paper bags on the counter, making a move to go through the bags to help you put the groceries away, but your hands close over hers, slightly smaller and warm as you halt her movements.

“You’ve done enough for me,” you say, smile crooked. “Make yourself at home.”

And the household phrase is so cliche, but makes a split second reel of what making herself fully at home entails. She’d never admit it out loud, but part of it is bending you over the kitchen island.

She swallows the lump in her throat as you limp around the kitchen.

“You should rest your foot,” she says.

Your smile widens.

“I’m okay,” you assure her.

She leans against the counter, watching as you file everything in its rightful place. The muscles in her face involuntarily twitch when you stand up on your tip toes to throw a box of cereal on top of the fridge.

Your ass looks absolutely edible in your jeans and the low cut of your top shows the way your shoulder blades contract.

Definitely doesn’t help her blooming kitchen fantasies.

“You want something to drink?” you offer.

“Just water, please,” Abby clears her throat, gaze snapping up to meet the gaze you throw over your shoulder.

And she has to use the cute little glass you give her as a lifeline, nearly crushing the frosted green glass to bits multiple times over the course of you prepping dinner and the actual thing.

Because not only are you wickedly witty in a way that’s easily overlooked, but you’re phenomenal in the kitchen. Nearly drools watching you cut through your produce while chattering happily about growing up on the west coast and your college years.

You work through the building heat to set a painted ceramic dish piled high with pasta that Abby absolutely devours with nearly as much fervor as she likes to think she would you.

“Good?” you ask hopefully, leaning forward on your elbows.

“Better than good,” Abby says eagerly. “Great, fantastic.”

“Yay,” you cheer pure-heartedly and she could melt. Especially when she polishes off the plate and you sit up straight. “More?”

She easily agrees just for the sake of watching you.

“You should, uh—” You scratch the back of your neck nervously as she continues eating. “You should stop by again. If you, y’know, wanna…I cook a lot and there’s usually a lot left over.”

Abby could scream in excitement. She’s one intrusive thought away from reaching over the island to squish your cheeks and tell you that there’s literally nothing else in the world she’d wanna do than to see you again. Instead she forces her composure with an easy smile.

“I’d really like that.”

And the way she sits back in her seat, legs obviously spreading under the surface to stretch has you wiggling uncomfortably. The last few buttons of her polo have come undone, exposing a freckled expanse of skin that you’d love to sink your teeth into, and somehow, sometime while your back had been turned, she’d opted for undoing the rest of her loosening braid to throw it into a topknot.

The tension is palpable, thick enough to choke, and at times, as the two of you chat over the kitchen island, it has you stumbling over your words.

Even more so when you walk her to the door at half past ten. She’s leaning against the doorframe like she doesn’t want to leave, and truthfully, you don’t want her to. Want to spend as much time as you can caught up.

“I’ll call you?” you bite the bullet despite the tremor in your fingertips.

Abby nods, arm banded around her paper bag of groceries, a tupperware of leftovers nestled on the top.

“Yeah, please,” she hums.

And there’s one final moment of tension that clings between the two of you as she kicks off the doorframe and you close the door, back pressed against the wood.

After that night, the lines you dance blur impossibly. Always a will she, won’t she that seems to equally frustrate the two of you for vastly different reasons unbeknownst to the other.

You because you can’t get a read on Abby, always teetering over a steep edge trying to get her to bite your advances. But you know, know that there’s something there. Abby because she’s given more and more reason to fall into you with every passing moment, but can’t seem to take the plunge, entirely too freshly single to think about another commitment that could fail and leave her already mending heart beyond repair.

And she knows it isn’t fair, especially when the tension both romantic and sexual is absolutely brimming. You’re nothing like the partners she’s been with before, especially not her last girlfriend who was practically your polar opposite. You were gentle, sweet, funny. Good at practically anything you could get your hands on.

But something stalls her, keeps her from diving headfirst despite late nights laying on your living room floor talking about things both minute and infinite, cooking with you in the snugness of your tiny kitchen, even inviting you to outings with friends and vice versa.

So you take the plunge instead, one Saturday evening weeks after your first meeting, after spending long swathes of time tangled in each other’s presence.

You’re at a bar with her and her friends, slight buzz giving you the smallest nudge of confidence to cling to her arm. And god does Abby look good tonight, especially so, in a dark button up and fitted pants. She’s got her hair down, tickles your cheek when you nuzzle against her shoulder.

Her friends’ eyes are inquisitive, curious because touches between the two of you rarely linger for longer than a few moments, but you’ve been glued to her side all night. She doesn’t say anything though, doesn’t shrug you off, even wraps an arm around your shoulder when you return from the restroom.

So with a few more drinks and a little more liquid courage, you’re toeing a little over the line. You’ve pushed her hair over her shoulders, pressing your lips experimentally to the skin behind her ear. It’s a sensation that has her freezing up almost imperceptibly, but you can tell with the way her muscles grow taut under your fingers.

“What’re you doing, angel?” Abby asks quietly, span of her large palm gripping your thigh.

“Nothin’,” you hum, nose bumping her ear.

She breathes out a hollow laugh, tries to turn her attention to her friends who are obviously trying to ignore your displays of affection. But then your lips are brushing with more force against her collar and she’s sliding out of the stuffy booth to get some air.

Her resolve is obviously crumbling, even more so when she stands at the bar waiting for the next round of drinks and your arm bands around her waist, the other flattening below her belly button. When your pinkie slides beneath her belt buckle, she’s pushing off the counter.

And for a moment you think you’ve upset her when she gathers all the stout glasses and winds through the crowd to return to the booth you’d previously occupied.

You barely make it to the back of the bar when she’s emerging from the bodies and grabbing you roughly by the bicep.

“Abby—”

Her lips are slotting yours before you can apologize, and she tastes like cherries and liquor. Her arms wind around your waist, one hand on the small of your back, the other grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Abs,” you whisper breathlessly, unable to feel any embarrassment for taking up a high traffic aisle as she bites your bottom lip.

“Your place or mine?” she asks, voice gravelly. “Because you started something that I’m gonna need you to finish, princess.”

And your knees are jelly the entire trek to your apartment, insides liquid and tummy fluttering because a warmth has begun to pool in your panties. The way Abby can’t keep her hands off you through the elevator ride up makes it all the worse.

“You’re such a fuckin’ tease, y’know that?” she hisses in your ear as you miss the keyhole a few times. “For the last six weeks all you’ve done is toy with me and—”

Her breath hitches when she presses her front to your back and slides her hand up the skirt of your backless sundress to feel the stickiness forming between the plush of your thighs.

When you finally force the door open, Abby’s kicking off her shoes and her fingers are making work of her top buttons. You’re quick to swivel on your heel, shoving her roughly against the front door to push up on your tiptoes and pepper kisses over the curve of her jaw.

“Me?” you huff petulantly, an uncharacteristic gleam in your eye as your fingers are deft on her belt buckle. You unbutton her dress pants. “You waltz in here all the time looking so…so…fuckable.”

Abby nearly chokes on her breath.

“And you try to play coy, but I see right through you, Abby,” you say in such a gooey tone. She throws her head back and moans. “I see the way you look at me. The little things you do. You’re not subtle Anderson.”

And that’s new. Calling her by her last name.

Your hand’s down the front of her pants, under her boxers and you feel it. How wet she is. Feel the slick between her folds as you circle her clit.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathes, lips parted as she takes the sight of you in.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you sigh, biting your bottom lip as you stare up at her.

She nods eagerly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you hum.

Her hands come up to cup your cheeks, leaning down to steal a few kisses before her hand’s wrapping around your wrist and pulling you from her heat.

“Open,” she barks, guiding your fingers to your lips.

You do so without argument, the taste of Abby making your eyes hood.

You make a noise in the back of your throat, and Abby’s walking you back towards your bedroom.

“You wanna make me feel good?” she asks, back of her knees hitting the edge of your mattress. She’s got you situated between her legs, shucking off her top and shimmying her trousers and boxers off in one go. “Then get to work.”

She’s spreading her legs, gaze locked as you lower until you’re eye level with her cunt. The pale moonlight that filters the window making it absolutely glisten.

You’re kissing the skin of her inner thighs, hands on her knees as you glance up at her, only find her with her bottom lip tucked harshly between pearly teeth.

“Want you bad,” you admit breathily, biting the taut skin before laving at it with the flat of your tongue.

All you receive is a shaky breath, seemingly knocking the words straight from her lips.

“Nothing?” you taunt, biting the other side.

Abby’s opening her mouth to say something snarky, but your lips are on her clit and your middle finger’s sliding in with ease.

“Jesus, fuck,” she whispers breathlessly.

And you’re smug as you eat her out, vibration of your moans rumbling through her core when she threads her fingers through your hair and tugs ‘til the tension in your scalp stings deliciously.

“Shitshitshit,” she chokes when you add another finger.

Under normal circumstances, she’d be embarrassed when her body locks up and her legs shake after what seems like only mere moments, but after she comes down and the fog clears, she’s wiping that smirk off your pretty face.

The sight is one to see, Abby leaned against your headboard with your back plastered to her front. The skirt of your dress is scrunched around your waist, flimsy straps knocked from your shoulders.

She’s merciless, thick fingers plugging you full.

“Ah, Abby,” you hiss, hand wrapping around her wrist.

“Can’t get over how tight you are.” She bites your earlobe. “You can barely take two.”

As testament, she stuffs you deeper. The squelch is downright filthy, your arousal pooling down your slit and onto the sheets. For a moment Abby’s pulling her digits from your heat, spreading her fingers in front of your face to show you the stringy strands of clear that web her knuckles.

“See that, princess? See how wet you are?” she teases, other hand taking a palmful of your tits while her mouth maps each blemish and mark with kisses across your shoulders and neck.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this,” she husks. “Wish you could see how pretty you look.”

You throw your head back, chest heaving as her fingers curl inside the spongy walls of your cunt and applies such a toe-curling pressure against the spot that has you seeing stars. It makes your back arch, knees twitching against the legs that Abby uses to keep your thighs spread.

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” she whispers, blowing air against the shell of your ear as her ministrations grow sloppy.

You nod quickly, body tensing.

“M’gonna fuckin’ cum,” you whimper, “Please, Abs, don’t stop. I’m—”

Abby could cum all over again when your chest pushes forward into her hold, head lolling back against her shoulder as you let out a pitched whine that sounds a lot like her name.

“Fuck!” you swallow, falling slack against her sticky skin as you gush.

Her other hand drops to your clit, lazy circles making your pussy clench around the fingers still stuffed inside.

“That’s right, princess,” she huffs. “Cream all over my fingers.”

Your breaths stutter, pussy clenching as you let out a needy little moan.

“So good,” she praises. “Such a good girl.”

And you’re absolutely boneless, head knocking gently against hers as you push further into her chest. You feel her weight shift as she reaches, then the gentle feeling of her cleaning you up despite sleepy overstimulated protests.

It’s warm in your room as Abby slinks down the pillows and pulls the covers up. Her chin rests on top of your head as you cozy up to her, mumbling about how much you like her and how you’ve waited for such a moment.

You don’t remember the last thing you say before you doze off.

Abby does, though.

It keeps her up the entire night. Has her eyes blown wide as she stares up at the ceiling and the weight of the evening dawns on her.

Always wanna be with you. You’re my person.

And she doesn’t know how it’d gotten to this point. How did she let herself get so entangled with you? She’d always been aware that there’d been something there, that she was crushing and was almost a hundred percent sure you reciprocated, but this was far more than she’d anticipated.

It’s a step away from the ‘l’ word, and she’s not so sure it’s something she’s willing to fall into.

So Abby does what she does when she’s scared and she’s running. She’s replacing herself with your pillow as the sun comes up, heart squeezing when your cheek nuzzles against the fabric and your lips part to blow a breath.

She’s dressing as she makes her way to the front door, takes a final look at the polaroid wall that stares back at her as she tugs her shoes on, and slips out of the apartment building into the chilly Seattle air.

You’d been prepared for a lot of things growing up and into yourself. Had learned to swallow the bitter side of sweet, but nothing could have prepared you for the splintering feeling of Abby’s absence.

You wake up a few hours after she leaves, naked and hugging one of your pillows. The apartment is eerily silent as you wait in stillness for any signs that she’s just an early riser.

There’s no shower running, no clattering in the kitchen, no shuffling in the hall. And when you survey your surroundings, comforter wrapped around your shoulders, you suck in a deep breath.

Maybe she has work.

It’s a futile attempt to rationalize the situation, but you know Abby. Know that she’d leave a note, maybe a text, or—

You scramble for your phone, but deflate when you find a notification to water your virtual plant. For good measure, you open her text thread, but all that stares back at you is the confirmation that she was picking you up the night prior.

“Oh, Abby,” you whisper to yourself, something like sickness making your stomach twist.

The cursor blinks, keyboard clicking as you type and retype anything that’ll confirm that maybe you’re just being paranoid, reading into things too much.

So you settle on good morning 💘.

It’s almost instantaneous.

Read at 7:47am.

It takes a little under two weeks for Abby to surface again. Not without ample prodding. You’re a communicator, she realizes, as she sits outside of Jo’s Coffee and stares down at the string of texts from you over the past week and a half.

pretty girl: good morning 💘

pretty girl: have a good day at work

pretty girl: i made dinner if you wanna stop by

pretty girl: can i swing by the station with lunch?

pretty girl: just want you to know that i’m thinking of you

pretty girl: meet for coffee? wanna see you.

pretty girl: text me whenever you’re comfortable, i’ll leave you alone til you’re ready 💗

That final text is what makes her crack. Makes the guilt eat away at her. So she messages you when her shift is over.

me: jo’s at 4

pretty girl liked ‘jo’s at 4’

She looks up when the chair across from her scrapes against the concrete. You drop into the seat, fresh-faced and obviously newly showered. But she can see it in your eyes, the bags that puff like you’ve been crying.

And you have, even if you won’t admit it, because Abby’s the closest thing you’ve felt to what love could be like and these past two weeks have been agonizing as you try to pick apart every single facet of your situationship with her.

“How are you?” you ask, giving her a weak smile over the table.

“Good,” Abby lies, but you don’t see through her poker face and it stings, thinking that she’d been so unaffected by all of this.

You nod, fiddling with the fake leaves of the center piece.

“I missed you,” you admit shakily.

And fuck, did Abby miss you too, but she can’t find it in herself to face her fears head on. So she just nods, biting the inside of her lip.

“Didn’t miss me?” you tease, trying to make light of the situation.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” Abby cuts to the chase, words leaving her lips like a shot that echos in the night.

It makes your ears ring, your brows furrowing as your lips twitch into a frown. Abby braces herself, knows what a brewing argument feels like. It’s sick to say that it’s familiarity, that sharp words and hoarse voices are a norm.

But you just shrink in your seat.

“Why?” you whisper.

Abby sucks in a deep breath.

“You don’t remember what you told me?” she asks like an accusation.

You blink.

“You told me that you wanted to be with me. That I’m your person,” she says.

And you wonder what’s so wrong with that. Especially when you’ve spent two months glued, when you were so sure it was mutual.

“I do,” you affirm softly. “You are.”

Abby squeezes her eyes shut, shakes her head.

“I’m not—” She clears her throat. “I don’t want a girlfriend. I don’t need the distraction. Especially not now with work and my personal life.”

Ouch. That had hurt, Abby calling her time with you and any subsequent moments nothing more a distraction.

“Oh.”

She doesn’t know why your response frustrates her, makes annoyance pinch the back of her brain as she takes you in, but it does. Full force.

“We’re better off as friends,” Abby says. “It’s easier, it’s—”

“Friends don’t fuck each other, Abby,” you say simply, and the calmness in your tone makes her upset.

She’s used to the shouting, to the arguing and being at each other’s throats in conversations like these. But you never fail to amaze her as you keep your composure.

“I have no intention of sleeping with you again,” she says stonily. “That night was mistake. I hadn’t been with someone in months and you were giving me attention and—”

In her frustration with the entire conversation, she hadn’t realized that tears were pooling in your eyes. That you were trying not to cry.

Her face softens when she notices.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“You what?” you murmur. “What were these past three months, Abby?”

“I dunno,” Abby sighs in annoyance. “Two people enjoying each other’s company? We were drunk and—"

You simply nod, knuckling away the brimming tears before shrugging your bag over your shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Abby sighs when you stand.

“Home,” you answer quietly. “Whatever. Let’s just forget any of this ever happened.”

She grabs your arm over the table, opening her mouth to apologize again, but you’re shaking her off.

“Take care of yourself,” you tell her.

The days blur like the edges of a muddy watercolor.

You start to think that things could look up, that maybe Abby was put in your life for some reason you’ll uncover in the future. But the universe can be so cruel sometimes, knows exactly what to do to shatter the broken pieces you’d tried so hard to glue together.

It comes in the form of a night out nearly a month after you’d last seen Abby. She made no additional efforts, just left you wondering if you’d imagined it all, and your friends are especially tired of your moping.

It’s a surprise!

And you’re not really one for surprises. Especially not now, but they’re dragging you out, carting you across town. Your stomach sinks to your ass when you see the familiar neon lights. Feel your chest tighten on the trek up the stairs to the same bar that preluded your spiral.

You could throw up when you’re situated in a booth with your friends and you glance at the bar by chance.

Abby’s leaned against the counter top, looking as good as ever, but she’s not alone. There’s a girl that hangs off her shoulder, skin umber and eyes warm. She makes no moves to distance herself and you don’t know why you feel the anger begin to sizzle. Abby hadn’t been yours in the first place.

“What do you wanna drink?” one of your friends asks.

“Nothing,” you answer stiffly.

She follows your gaze to the countertop, sees the way your eyes burn.

You’d kept your situation with Abby private, didn’t want to jeopardize such a potentially good thing with your well-meaning meddling friends at such a fresh stage. But now that it’s soured, you stare openly.

“That’s her, isn’t it?” she asks, and your avoidance is answer enough. “C’mon, let’s show her what she missed out on.”

As it turns out, it doesn’t seem like much. Because she doesn’t even blink when you sidle up to the counter with your friend, three patrons between the two of you.

You’d always thought the two if you had a sixth sense for the other, but Abby’s oblivious to her surroundings, too engrossed in her drink and the pretty brunette hanging off her shoulder.

One of the bartenders goes up, asks what he can get for the two beautiful ladies, and your ears perk when her voice sounds. Nearly throw up the empty contents of your stomach all over the bar top when you see the way she slings her arm over the girl’s shoulders.

“Another vodka soda for my girl.”

She’s buzzed, you can hear it, but it’s the most sound declaration you’ve heard from her in the time you’ve known her.

You break away from the bar, and you run.

Abby feels like a shell of herself.

She’d gone out over the weekend, celebrating a visit from a close friend from the east coast. And it’d done a good job of numbing the pain for a little while, of taking her mind off of you.

But it’s Tuesday, the first day of her rotation this week and she hates that this feels worse than her previous break-up despite the unlabeled status of your relationship. You hadn’t even put up a fight, just took her rejection in stride.

It makes her feel infinitely worse, knowing you didn’t have it in you.

She doesn’t even realize she’s spaced out in front of the drink coolers of the convenience store after her shift when a voice snaps her out of it.

“S’cuse me.”

And she knows that voice. It’d been her greenlight all those nights ago.

Your little sister is brushing past her, going straight for the Body Armors and Gatorade. She must feel the way Abby stares because she’s side-eyeing the older girl from her post.

“Oh, it’s you,” she says, turning her nose up in the air.

Abby swallows.

“Hey to you too,” she says hesitantly.

Your little sister humphs, snatching the golden berry flavor and a yellow Gatorade. Abby takes a moment to glance at her basket, sees fever medicine and Tylenol among other things like instant ramen and Vitamin C gummies.

“Are you sick?” she asks.

Your little sister’s face screws up in annoyance.

“No, but my big sis is,” she says matter-of-factly.

That information makes Abby’s heart sink.

“She alright?” she asks carefully.

“She’s seen better days no thanks to you.”

And on a normal day, Abby would laugh because your little sister is witty, just like you. Can see where she gets it from. But right now, all she can imagine is you bed ridden and coughing up a lung.

“I can take a look at her,” Abby offers suddenly. “I—”

“Yeah fucking right,” your sibling scoffs.

Her language stuns Abby and this time she really can’t help but chuckle.

“You think this is funny?” she gripes. “You broke my sister’s heart. She’s been so fuckin’ sad because of you and you’re laughing.”

Abby sobers up quick, shakes her head.

“No, no, that’s not—,” she splitters urgently. “I– I’m laughing ‘cuz you’re just like her.”

Your little sister doesn’t look convinced, uses the back of her hand to wipe her nose as she levels Abby with an unrelenting stare.

“You suck, y’know that?”

“Yeah,” Abby sighs, hands flailing in defeat. “Trust me, I know.”

“And you’re a pussy,” your little sister adds childishly. “I know you really like my sister.”

Abby doesn’t even bother denying it, just stands there with a prepackaged sandwich that pales in comparison to your cooking and a diet soda.

“I do,” she affirms quietly.

“Then do something about it,” she says surprisingly. “My sister’s a catch, the coolest person I know. You’d be the biggest fucking dumbass if you don’t lock her down.”

And her candidness makes Abby crack a smile.

They stand there for a few moments in silence before your little sister is shoving the basket in Abby’s arms and prancing down the aisle.

As soon as Abby’s paid, black plastic bag in her grasp, she finds that your little sister has lingered outside of the convenience store.

She’s shoving a key in her hands.

“She’s too tired to open the door,” she says. “She likes extra lime in her ramen and runny eggs. Also hates swallowing pills so you’ll probably have to crush it up and put it in her water or something.”

“Who’s the EMT here?” Abby grumbles.

Your little sister pins her with a narrowed look.

“Don’t fuck this up Anderson,” she warns. “If Big Sis asks, I took a train to the mall to meet up with my friends.”

And just like that, she flounces away.

You’re asleep when she sneaks into your apartment.

She kicks her shoes off, sets the bag of convenience store goods on the kitchen island before padding through the living room to peek into your room.

Buried under a mound of blankets, just your eyebrows and forehead peek from the top as you snore softly. When she peels the covers away, she not only finds that you’re sweaty and your cheeks are flushed, but you’re wearing her favorite hoodie.

She hadn’t realized she left it here, but seeing you in it has her sinking to her knees by your bedside, chin resting on her bent arm.

“Hi, angel,” she whispers quietly, pushing the sweaty strands of hair from your face. “Missed you.”

You don’t budge, cheek smushed in your pillow as you snooze peacefully. And maybe she shouldn’t have come here, because all it’ll take is you asking her to stay.

She tucks the blanket to your chin, leans forward to press a kiss against your temple.

In the kitchen, she’s only reminded of how much she misses you. Misses this. She’d spent nearly everyday here during your time together. Brushed shoulders with you while you guys cooked together, leaned against the counter while you took extra care plating her food despite her protests of ‘we’re gonna eat it anyways’. You guys frequently laid out on the living room floor, snacking while watching movies, flipping through coffee table books or getting existential.

She’d made so many memories here, made a home out of you.

The thought stirs something emotional inside of her, makes tears prick the corner of her eyes as she rips open the packet of ramen and digs the seasoning sachet out.

Frustration wells as she goes through the motions in your kitchen by herself. Wonders why you had to go and be so fucking wonderful and make her fall for you.

She’s halfway through and angrily brushing her tears away when she hears your door creak open and your voice croak your little sister’s name in question.

When you stand in the doorway of the kitchen, her name is falling from your lips.

“Abby?”

You rub your eyes momentarily and Abby feels like the biggest piece of shit on the planet as you stand there with the hood of her pullover on, Christmas pajama pants and some crew socks.

“Hi,” she breathes.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, bewildered eyes bouncing around the kitchen as you take in your surroundings. The bags under your eyes are swollen, your lips chapped as you fidget in the archway.

“I ran into your sister at the convenience store,” she admits. “She said you were sick.”

“And?” It’s like you can’t fathom the fact that Abby would have any concern for you. Something like anger bubbles at the idea.

“What do you mean and?” Abby asks, eyebrows furrowing. “You’re sick and I… I care about you.”

There’s that normalcy again, that familiar feeling of emotions beginning to reach its boiling point. But she’s not angry at you. Could never be when all you’ve been is perfect to her. And perhaps in the back of her mind that plays the tiniest role, because you’re everything she could ever want, need, but she steady fucks it up every go around.

“Do you?” you whisper.

You look small, defeated, unable to meet her eyes.

“Of course I do, what are—”

“You really hurt me, you know that?” Your breath hitches. “You came into my life like fate, over and over again. Still do apparently. And you— You made me like you more than I’ve ever liked someone in my life. You let me see you, let me fuck you, let me… let me…”

It’s your first real display of heightened emotion. You don’t bother trying to hide your tears, or hide the way Abby’s built you up and ruined you these past four months.

“And then you just left.”

The lump in her throat nearly chokes her breathless.

“I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, y’know?” you continue and Abby’s hands tremble. “That maybe you really just needed the time for yourself, but then I saw you, and—”

“Saw me what?” Abby interjects. “Where?”

“At the bar,” you squeak. “She’s really fucking pretty, and I hope she makes you—”

“What are you talking about?” Abby grills, taking a step towards you.

“If you didn’t want to be with me, if you didn’t feel the way I felt about you, you could have just said that,” you whimper, dashing the tears away in embarrassment. “You didn’t have to make an excuse about not wanting a distraction.”

“I’m so lost right now,” Abby says. “I—”

“I saw you at the bar this weekend,” you tell her straight. “You were with a girl, called her yours.”

And that floors her. She’s almost a hundred percent certain she would’ve felt your presence a mile away, But as you reveal that you’d only been meters away from her, the closest you’ve gotten in weeks, it makes her gut pinch.

She wracks her brain, tries to recall that weekend, tries to think of any woman who’d give you the idea that she’d choose anyone but you.

She draws a blank at first, but then she remembers the bartender’s passing comment.

You and the birthday girl are too sweet.

Abby had fake retched and Nora’d drawn out an exaggerated ewwww as the bartender set the vodka soda before them.

She’d been far too engrossed to realize that you’d been in the vicinity. But she’s not so sure she would’ve done much to take advantage of your presence if she had.

This is her first act of courage in months and she’s falling head first as she crosses the berth between the two of you.

When she stands a few inches away, you look up at her, thick lashes wet and nose snotty. You look like a mess, but Abby’s always thought you were beautiful.

“Nora’s not my girlfriend,” is the first thing she says.

You think you should feel relief, some semblance of hope flickering, but this feels a lot like uncertainty and you hate the limbo.

You don’t say anything, just wipe your nose on the back of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” Abby whispers, hands coming up to grasp your shoulders.

You make a noise in the back of your throat, corners of your mouth turning down in that telltale sign that you’re not done crying yet.

“C’mon, angel, stop crying,” Abby says weakly and the nickname makes your stupid heart flutter.

Her thumbs are brushing underneath your eyes, over the puff of your eyebags before she’s crushing you to her chest, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other winding around your shoulders to keep you anchored.

Your arms wrap around her waist, taking in the scent of her pine body wash and the softness of her detergent.

“I hate you,” comes your muffled hiccup.

Abby only hugs you harder.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

And perhaps she deserves that, but you’re pushing your face further into her chest and she barely hears you.

“I missed you,” you admit a second later, back of her work shirt fisted between nimble fingers.

A shuddering breath leaves her at the admission, makes her body relax as the two of you stand at the edge of your kitchen.

“Missed you,” she murmurs, savoring the way your body feels melding against hers for the first time in weeks. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

“You’ll stay?” you whisper.

“Yeah, yeah,” she assures you. “I gotta go home and get some stuff, but of course I’ll stay.”

Your hold tightens and your head shakes.

“I mean stay, Abby,” you clarify. “With me. Don’t…don’t run away anymore.”

Her breath catches in her throat, a new onslaught of tears choking her as she nods fervently.

“Yeah,” she croaks, kissing the top of your head. “M’not going anywhere.”

BONUS

You don’t know where the time goes. It all seems to blur together in the moments you spend with Abby, and before you can wrap your mind around the fact, a full year has passed the two of you by.

“You look so pretty,” Abby comments, sitting on the edge of your bed with her legs spread.

She’s watching you through the mirror, blue eyes piercing and unblinking.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way she always seems to make you warm.

“Thanks,” you mumble, unable to hide the smile that twitches while you screw the cap back onto your lipgloss to take one final look at yourself.

“Not gonna say it back?” Abby feigns annoyance, pushing up from her seat to wrap around you, one hand bracing against the dresser as her chin drops to your neck.

“Then it’d be insincere,” you deadpan, head tilting to rest against hers.

She humphs under her breath, shamelessly sliding a hand up your dress.

You stop her fingers in their tracks, pushing off from the drawers to create space between the two of you and alleviate the warmth beginning to bloom behind your navel.

“We’re gonna be late for Nora’s birthday,” you quip, fingertips barely brushing the doorknob before Abby’s hands are gripping your waist.

She’s hoisting you to throw you against the mattress playfully.

“She’ll survive if we’re ten minutes late,” Abby assures you wolfishly, climbing over you to cage your body between her thick thighs.

“You’re gonna mess up my hair,” you whine, pushing at her shoulder.

Abby captures your wrists in one hand, other tilting your chin up to slot her lips between yours. The taste of the fresh coat of lipgloss you’d just applied makes her smile against your mouth.

She relaxes a fraction when you reciprocate, tongue languid. A noise of approval rumbles from her chest when you nudge her onto her back and bite down on her bottom lip. With a wicked glint in her eyes, she’s pulling away, hands resting against the curve of your ass.

Now you’re straddling her, manicured hands mapping from her waist to her shoulders to feel the ripple of taut muscles underneath. She’s tense, obviously waiting for your next move with bated breath and kiss bitten lips.

But then you shift teasingly over her zipper.

“Let’s go,” you hum, pressing a final kiss to her jaw before climbing off of her anticipating figure. “No dessert before dinner.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fic #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou

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yutaholic · 4 months

Text

the show must go on (M)

PAIRING: Haechan (NCT) + reader (female)

SUMMARY: Your best friend, your ride or die, Haechan has never once left your side, but all good things must come to an end.

WARNINGS: strong language; brief mentions of alcohol and drug abuse; explicit sexual content

NOTES: 7.9k words; this is part three of a rose and her thorns, but can be read as a standalone one-shot

Seattle, 1991

We met in detention. Eighth grade. Not to be cliché, but I knew Lee Haechan was trouble when he walked in.

Takes one to know one.

What I didn’t know was the role he would come to play in my life. I doubt many people meet their soulmate in middle school. I was pretty lucky in that.

The two of us practically lived in detention that entire year. Ninth grade was a little better; we just hung out behind the school instead of inside it. A silly pair of dumb kids wearing matching leather jackets and passing a cigarette back and forth, coughing up smoke and thinking it made us cool.

We thought we had it all figured out. But only Haechan turned out to be right.

He was the one that started the band. Haechan threw us all together and made music out of our chaos and trauma. He was the glue and without him, we would fall apart.

You clambered quietly into the passenger seat and whispered, “They’re asleep.”

Haechan was behind the wheel, but the van was parked on a grassy knoll just off the main highway. “Finally, some fucking peace and quiet,” he mumbled, sitting in a cloud of smoke that poured from his lips. The thick scent of marijuana filled the van from stem to stern.

You followed your best friend’s gaze. His eyes were firmly planted out the window at the black curtain of nightfall painted with billions of little lights. “The sky looks so pretty,” you said in awe.

“I know. It’s crazy seeing stars this bright.”

There was a tiny lull of silence. You were thinking. It wasn’t often you got to be alone with Haechan lately and it was making you crazy - not getting to confide in your best friend.

“I let Mark raw me,” you blurted out.

Haechan snorted. “I heard, but clearly your birth control did its job.”

“I snorted cocaine with Jeno… and fucked him in a dressing room.”

Your best friend looked at you, arching a brow. “So?” Doing crazy shit with Jeno wasn’t new, to be fair.

“What the hell am I doing?”

“What you do best - loving everyone except yourself.”

You frowned. Nail hitting the head every time, but you quickly realized you didn’t want to hear it. “Don’t do that,” you said in a small voice.

Haechan smirked and put the joint to his lips, taking another long drag. “You know me better than to think I’m going to be your conscience and scold you,” he said a moment later. “It makes sense you’re trying to get in as many rounds of fun before the summer ends.”

The summer was winding down. August was half over.

I didn’t want it to end. I couldn’t. Because I knew in my heart when we went home, we would go our separate ways. Forever.

There would be nothing holding us together anymore.

“Haechan?”

“Yes, my love?”

You fought back tears as you asked, “What are we going to do when it’s all over?”

Haechan slapped on a playful grin for your sake and said, “We’re going to get scouted at a concert and get a huge record deal and I’ll eat you out over a bed of hundred dollar bills.”

You snorted. “God, that would be a dream.” You quickly sobered. “What’s the reality?”

Your best friend’s grin melted away and his voice turned to frost. “Go home. Find a minimum wage job. And try not to turn into raging alcoholics like our parents.”

“I thought so,” you sighed, hanging your head.

Haechan reached over and rubbed your arm. “Save the major depressive episode for back home. Let’s just enjoy these last few days.”

“I don’t want to give up,” you said, meeting his eyes again. The fire inside you lit itself with resolve. No matter how small it was. “I want something more for us in life.”

“I know you do, baby,” Haechan crooned, touching your cheek affectionately. “But some things are just out of our control.”

You blinked with the urge to cry. You couldn’t fight it anymore. Regardless of his gentle tone, Haechan’s words sounded final. You slipped out of the seat and to the floor to lay your head on Haechan’s thigh, closing your eyes as he stroked your hair.

After a moment, Haechan whispered, “I’ll never forget you for as long as I live. No matter what happens. I hope you know that.”

The tears slipped down your face as you smiled and said, “I love you too.”

Haechan’s lips twitched. He wanted so badly to not let it bother him, but he couldn’t. He knew damn well when the summer ended and the band came up empty, there would be a permanent wedge of broken hearts and crushed dreams between you.

So, so lonely. That was Haechan’s biggest fear. Losing his best friends would destroy him beyond repair. He would go through life jaded and bitter, like his parents.

Maybe it really was unavoidable. Fighting fate sounded great in songs, but reality wasn’t kind. He knew that better than anyone.

The next morning, you woke in the bed with Jeno’s arm tucked around your waist, his body molded to yours keeping you warm. There was no telling which boy scooped you off the floor and put you in bed, but your money was on Mark. He was having a hard time looking at you and Haechan was mysteriously quiet.

But you knew why.

Tension had settled over the van, the worst of the worst. After the show in Seattle, there were no more gigs to be played. Now, the long drive home would begin, shadowed by defeat and failure.

You resorted to doing what you always did; trying to alleviate the pressure and raise everyone’s spirits. Once the boys were up and actually keeping their eyes open, you had Jeno drive to the nearby state park.

As he did, you drifted between them. They were like strangers, devoid of energy and hope. Mark hadn’t touched his guitar since the final gig. The gentle strumming of his acoustic and the beauty of his softly whispered singing didn’t fill the van anymore, to your dismay.

Haechan curled up in the bed and didn’t say a word. Jeno drove silently, smoking one cigarette after another and blowing the smoke out the window. You started with him, running your hand over his shoulder as he held the wheel. Jeno glanced at you briefly, offering a weak smile that even he couldn’t keep. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple.

You went to Mark next and curled up next to him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and holding him tightly. Mark was a little surprised, seeing as how the two of you had been working hard to keep your hands off each other, but was over the moon to have you in his arms again. He kissed the top of your head and ran his hands up and down your back.

“Won’t you play a little something?” you asked gently.

Mark shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, closing your eyes to fight the tears.

Finally, you went to Haechan and sat on the mattress next to him. He just looked at you, his stare vacant and blank. You brushed his long hair from his face and leaned in to trace a few kisses from his cheek to the corner of his mouth, just to see if you could spark a reaction.

Haechan pushed you ever so slightly and said, “That’s not going to work this time.”

You frowned. And gave up. The three were inconsolable and it broke your heart.

Sidling over to the cabinet, you found your notebook and began flipping pages, going to where you’d left off. Your brows stitched when you didn’t find it and that was when you noticed the torn remains of paper in the metal spiral.

“Okay. Which one of you ripped the page out?”

Mark met your eyes and said, “Don’t look at me.”

You called, “Jeno?”

“You know I wouldn’t touch your shit,” he replied calmly.

Leaving you to turn to Haechan, his eyes closed. “Haechan?”

“I don’t give a fuck about your memoir,” he said, hissing your name.

That made you flinch. You understood his anger, but not the vitriol toward your story. Your eyes fell to the notebook and the missing page, and your hands began to shake.

You threw the notebook at the cabinet and it landed in a pitiful heap. Tensing with frustration, you bent your legs, wrapped your arms around your knees, and hid your face, crying as quietly as you could.

Mark moved slowly, grazing against you to pick up the notebook and tuck it back into its place neatly, but he didn’t have the courage to comfort you. Too scared he would make it worse.

It was Haechan that slipped to the floor and enveloped you in his arms, cradling your head to his chest and dabbing at your cheeks with his sleeve.

When Jeno pulled into the park, you breathed in relief. The van was too stifling, suffocating you in all its misery. You hopped out of the van without a word and started marching for the scenic overlook advertised on a giant sign like you couldn’t get away fast enough.

One-by-one, your bandmates whined and huffed, but inevitably followed. They could wallow in their own disappointment, but they couldn’t stand seeing it hit you.

That’s how the four of you came to sit at a lone picnic table, silently staring at the Pacific Ocean, watching the waves ebb and flow in all its unwavering glory.

The tears had dried on your face. Breathing in the sweet, salty air grounded you again, clearing your lungs and your head.

You were the one to finally break the silence. “I need to come clean about something.”

“Go ahead,” Jeno replied, yawning as he still struggled to shake off sleep.

Wringing your hands in your lap, you began, “I’ve been mailing pieces of the memoir to Cassie.”

“That explains the trips to the post office,” Mark said offhandedly. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be glib or not.

“And?” Jeno pressed.

You took a breath. “She submitted it to a publisher for their… consideration, I guess it’s called.”

Well, that woke everyone up.

“Are you serious?” Haechan asked, his eyes wide.

“Yeah?” You were befuddled by the reaction, glancing around at them. All three of your boys were sporting similar looks of shock. “You knew I was writing a memoir.”

“We knew you were scribbling in a notebook to toss in a bin and find it again twenty years later and laugh at all the dumb shit we did…” Haechan’s tone of disdain was not lost on you.

Jeno’s gawking increased. “Babe, are you insane?”

You felt small on that picnic table between them, utterly confused, and snapped, “No. I’m trying to get us out of this hell!”

Grimacing, Mark asked pointedly, “You wrote about all the very illegal shit you’ve been doing?”

Oh. That’s why they were freaked out. Underage drinking. Marijuana. Cocaine. All very punishable offenses. You shrugged and plastered on your cutest, most innocent smile. “A little?”

“Fuck,” Jeno swore, sliding off the bench to his feet and running a hand through his hair.

Haechan shook his head and chuckled. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

You rubbed your arms awkwardly.

I was so determined to make it work. It was tunnel vision, so intense I could see nothing else.

“What did the publisher say?” Mark asked, touching your shoulder in comfort. The awkwardness was killing him too.

“I don’t know,” you said, leaning into him a little, desperate for warmth. “I call Cassie at every stop to check on the dogs and she promised to update me on any replies from the publisher.”

Jeno looked to Haechan. “Can they report us to the cops?”

Haechan waved him away, looking more amused the longer he thought about it. “No. She can just say it’s all fiction. Very embellished fiction.”

Mark bobbed his head. “Good thinking.”

You almost laughed. Haechan could lie his way out of almost anything. In this case, it would be in your favor. You glanced around at your boys again. “So…, is everyone mad at me or are we good?”

“We’re good,” Haechan said, patting your head. “For now.”

“Fuck.” Mark sounded exhausted. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know if I could handle losing our music career, but being notorious in a fucking book.”

It was your turn to comfort him, running your hand across his shoulders, feeling the tense muscles under your fingers.

Jeno kicked at a pinecone, watching it skitter across the rocks. “We’d be the fucking losers just known for banging bitches at every stop,” he sneered. Then, the drummer had a thought and raised his brows. “Actually, whatever gets us paid, I don’t really care.”

“Yeah, how does that work?” Mark asked curiously. “You technically wrote the book, but it’s about all of us.”

You made a face. “It’s our story. Of course I’d split everything fairly with you guys.”

Haechan smiled at you ever so faintly.

“I can’t believe our story’s almost over,” Jeno mumbled bitterly.

You perked up. This was as good a time as any. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“What do you mean?”

You got up and spun on your heels, so you could face them all at once. “I was thinking…,” you said, shifting your weight. “We could get a place together and we’d work odd jobs to pay the bills, but we would play gigs here and there. Whatever we could get.”

Jeno simpered. You weren’t clinging to the band. You just didn’t want to let go of them.

“We’d be scraping by a living forever,” Mark pointed out.

“But we’d be doing what we love,” you argued.

“Try loving something that never loves you back,” Haechan said harshly. “You become bitter and miserable. Just like my parents. And yours.”

You scanned their faces. Each had the tiniest bit of hope in their eyes, but their expressions were firmly rooted in defeat. “You guys just want to go home after everything we did this summer and…,” you trailed, a tremble creeping into your voice. “Pretend like it never happened?”

Jeno softened. “Of course it happened. We’ll always look back and remember this as the best days of our lives.” He talked to you like he was soothing a fussy baby. “But best days don’t last. That’s why you look back on them.”

Your eyes burned. More tears would come any moment now and you weren’t ashamed of them. “I just don’t understand why you’re all giving up. Why am I the only one trying to keep us together?”

“Because you’re the dreamer,” Mark sighed.

Haechan snapped, “Stop being so gentle with her,” and Jeno was quick to warn, “Don’t be a dick.”

Your best friend jumped down from the picnic table and approached you. You knew by his tone and his gait that he was about to dress you down and you readied yourself for the blow.

“This is how it’s going to go,” Haechan started, pointing at the guitarist. “Mark’s parents will blow their entire retirement savings to send him to a good college to recover their reputation. And they will never let him date someone like you.”

You flinched.

“Fuck you,” Mark hissed, every muscle in his body tensing for a fight.

Haechan continued, “Jeno won’t be able to hold down a job. He’ll be a regular customer in rehab, then jail.”

Jeno held up his middle finger. “Go to hell.”

Haechan set his eyes on you and a chill ran down your spine. “And you,” Haechan said through clenched jaws. “You’ll meet some guy you can barely stand, but he’ll keep a nice roof over your head. He’ll put a couple babies in you after some miserable missionary and your entire personality will center around the screaming kids you never wanted. Just like your mom.”

Your blood turned to ice in your veins. Planting both hands on Haechan’s chest, you shoved him back and screamed, “You son of a bitch, I hate you!”

Jeno was suddenly caught in a very precarious position. As you stomped off, his first instinct was to go after you, but in the next second, Mark was off the table and charging toward Haechan. So, Jeno had to decide whose life was in the most imminent danger.

And he correctly chose Haechan.

Mark grabbed Haechan by the collar with both hands and crowded into his face. “I’m gonna fuck you up,” he roared, but Haechan didn’t fight back.

He was numb. His face was blank, his eyes cold.

Jeno did his best to wedge himself between them, but he was too defeated. All the thunder was gone from him. “Why did you do that to her?” he asked sadly.

“She has to let go of us,” Haechan replied, looking from Jeno to Mark. “Make her hate you. It’s the only way.”

Mark shook his head in dissent, clenching his fists even tighter in Haechan’s shirt.

You put plenty of distance between yourself and the boys, and the moment you found a solitary bench between trees, you collapsed onto it, buried your face in your hands, and wept.

We have no secrets, Haechan and I. He knows the darkest depths of my soul, and I know his.

I never thought he’d use that as a weapon, but I should have known.

He was the only one that dreamed bigger and harder than me. With it all ending, his heart was dying and pain makes us do horrible things. Especially to the ones we love most.

Because he knew I would still love him anyway. No matter how much he broke me.

Time lost all meaning as you cried on that bench. It wasn’t just Haechan’s words that crushed you, it was the cruel reality of life. You didn’t want to live without your boys. The four of you were too interwoven and connected. Being parted from them would be like tearing at the fabric of who you were.

You were expected to walk around with a gaping hole in your chest forever?

Sure. Most people did. It would account for all the hate and anger in the world.

“My love?”

You lifted your head at the sound of his voice, roughly wiped your wet cheeks, and growled, “Go away, Haechan. I swear to god, I will slap the shit out of you.”

Haechan dragged his feet over to you and said, “Go ahead. I deserve it.”

You refused to look at him as he sat beside you. Your eyes focused on the ocean.

We had the same biggest fear. Becoming our parents. As time went on, the more it seemed inevitable. A cycle that couldn’t be broken. We were fools to think we could be different.

That’s what I was hanging onto. I had to avoid that fate at all costs. Part of me thought that as long as I had my boys, they could save me from it.

“How could you say my worst nightmare so casually like that?” You were still shaking.

Haechan hung his head. “I was trying to hurt you.”

You scoffed, deadpanning, “At least you’re honest.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, like all the air was sapped from his lungs. When you didn’t respond, Haechan said, “Look at me. Please.”

“No.”

Your best friend sighed loudly and slouched into the bench, resting his head on the back. The two of you sat there for what felt like hours, watching the world pass you by.

“You’ll prove me wrong,” Haechan said tenderly. “You will be the one that breaks the cycle. The rest of us will just watch.”

Still, you said nothing. You hated him.

Because Haechan always ended up being right. It was a gift and a curse.

Mark and Jeno came looking. The latter was the only one brave enough to approach you, holding out his hand without a word. You peered up at him and let your hand slip into his, and Jeno led you away.

Haechan blinked and the tears escaped. He held them back until you left, refusing to cry in front of you. Keeping his hands in his lap, Haechan didn’t bother to dry his cheeks.

Mark blew out a pained breath. “What do we do?”

“You know what you have to do,” Haechan said, cutting his eyes at Mark. “If you don’t stand up to your parents, they’ll make you give her up.”

“I won’t,” Mark started.

“They will wear you down. You know they will. She’s not who they have in mind for their perfect boy. They hate her.”

Mark nodded.

“If you grow a spine, the two of you can at least live happily ever after,” Haechan joked, but there was a bitter edge to his voice.

“What about you and Jeno?”

Haechan stood. “It is what it is.”

The cloud in the van darkened. Jeno and Mark were miserable, and predictably stoic about it. Neither knew what to do with you. As it turned out, you were the rock, not Jeno.

Curled up in the bed with your back to them, you closed your eyes, but had no intention of sleeping. You would just lay there and wait for something to break or change. You’d done the heavy lifting so far. Now it was their turn.

Haechan couldn’t take the silence anymore. He trudged out of the van and slammed the door behind him.

You didn’t bat an eye. At this point, you didn’t have the energy to ask or care.

That wasn’t true. I always cared. Nothing could ever make me stop caring. We are all cursed and that was mine.

When the doors wheeled open, Haechan was sweaty and disheveled. You wondered how much time had passed as he sat on the mattress beside you. “Come with me,” your best friend said, holding out his hand.

You smarted, “Or what?”

“Or I’ll drag you.”

You looked over your shoulder and gave him an obstinate glare, but your curiosity was piqued. The hell had he been doing that got him so shiny with sweat? It didn’t take him that long to jerk off.

A defeated sigh left your lips. He was still your best friend, even if you hated his guts at the moment.

After batting his hand away, you got up and followed Haechan outside, rolling your eyes at the looks Mark and Jeno were sporting.

Gravel crunched beneath your shoes as Haechan led you into the trees, not too far from the van. When you saw what he was bringing you to, you couldn’t help but smile a little.

A camping tent was set up; the one Haechan had insisted on strapping on top of the van in case he found a nice spot. And it seemed he found one.

This was a habit of ours. When the yelling at my house got to be too much, when I couldn’t block it with my locked door or the blankets over my head, I would sneak out the window.

My parents didn’t notice. Hard to notice if you don’t care. Haechan would always be waiting to run off with me to the park. There were safe, secluded areas to set the tent up without fear of being interrupted.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten laid in that pathetic little tent. I’d probably mourn the damn thing when it finally fell apart.

Just as I mourned my relationships.

“How about a night not sleeping in the van?” Haechan asked, unzipping the front flap and holding it open for you.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” you barked, narrowing your eyes at him and crawling inside.

Haechan bit his tongue. Any witty remarks would not be appreciated at the moment.

But given Haechan was allergic to quiet, he wasn’t going to keep enabling your cold shoulder for much longer. Watching you lay on your back and make yourself comfortable over the sleeping bags, Haechan sidled up next to you as close as humanly possible.

“I’m still mad,” you huffed.

“I know.”

Well, with that out of the way, you relaxed. He knew you were upset. Now the groveling could begin.

Haechan rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand, staring at you and how intensely you were ignoring him. He reached over and stroked your cheek tenderly, and said, “I love you. It’s gonna hurt so much when you leave me.”

You closed your eyes, your heart clenching in your chest. “Then why are you trying to make me leave?”

“To give myself some control over the pain. Maybe.”

You turned your head and looked at him. His hair had grown longer over the summer, its natural jet black. It was cute; falling into his eyes, hiding them behind fluffy strands. You brushed some back with your fingertips so he couldn’t hide. Then you reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his.

Haechan smiled softly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. “You’re my best friend. I’ll be next to you in a nursing home.”

“Will you still kiss me if I have no teeth?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Heck yes. That would be hilarious.”

Both of you laughed at the sudden mental image of you and Haechan as two little old people sucking each other’s faces.

The rest of the world melted away. Your summer wasn’t coming to an end. It was just another night spent from home inside Haechan’s tent. If you didn’t think too hard, you could convince yourself nothing had changed.

Nothing was over.

You talked for ages, about everything. Like always. The light beyond the tent died and everything went dark, prompting Haechan to light a familiar lantern beside the sleeping bags. Soon, the ambience shifted from birds chirping to crickets singing.

When the atmosphere changed, so did the gravity inside the tent.

He was good at talking you away from the edge. Haechan made you laugh hard enough you forgot your anger and sadness, and he started stealing kisses between words. His hand occasionally traced patterns on the bit of your exposed stomach until it slipped under your shirt and got comfortable palming your breast. That’s when you began initiating kisses and running your fingers through his hair.

Kissing overtook conversation. You were immune to all the pain when his lips were on yours and you wanted more, wanted to overdose on the feeling until your heart was made of stone.

Haechan was my family. He was the only home I’d ever known, the only person who loved me unconditionally like my parents were supposed to. Soul mates aren’t always romantic. Maybe they’re just the person that loves you despite everything.

There was a little hitch in his breath as Haechan deepened the kiss, his arms heavy around you. He needed it too, needed to feel loved again before it was all over.

Your lashes fluttered as Haechan settled on top of you, abandoning your lips to suck and nibble at your neck. Your hands were on his shoulders, having been pulling him to you impatiently. His leg wedged between your thighs, pressing against your sex.

Haechan tugged at your clothes, undressing you while he bruised the base of your neck with his lips and teeth. When you yanked off his clothes and finally felt his naked body against yours, you moaned into his mouth and tangled your fingers in his long hair.

It was so familiar and comforting. With Haechan, everything was okay. Nothing could hurt me here.

He seemed in no rush to touch you where you really wanted him to. Typical. Haechan always dragged things out and made it last. He knew you had all the time in the world and was in no hurry to plow through it. Pun intended.

Haechan sucked your nipple into his mouth and pinched the other with his fingers. You bit your lip and squirmed under him, feeling his hard cock against your thigh. You hooked your legs on his hips and flexed, bringing him flush against you for good measure.

You flipped your positions and Haechan let you, holding your waist as you rolled onto him, straddling his lap. He kissed you even deeper, running his hands up and down your back while you cradled his face and tried to snatch all the air from his lungs.

Haechan broke from the kiss to ask playfully, “Have you been writing about sex in the book?”

You were breathing heavily, flushed and dazed from his kisses. “Yeah,” you rasped, running your hand through your hair to get it out of your face.

Haechan tugged you back down and trailed kisses over your jaw before whispering in your ear, “I need to give you some new material.”

“As if you haven’t given me plenty already.”

“I have competition,” he retorted, brushing his hands to your breasts. “Jeno is a slut with a dragon dick. You have a fat crush on Mark and he railed the shit out of you.”

You snickered. “Who are you then?”

Haechan steered you up and shuffled down until his arms were around your thighs and his mouth was inches from your sex, and purred, “I’ll always be the one that gave you your first nut.”

Though you were about to laugh at that, the next sound out of your mouth was a whimper as Haechan tongued at your folds. You were mindful not to put too much of your weight on him, but his hands on your hips said otherwise, bringing you down to meet his lips.

The sight of his face buried in your pussy, between your thighs, was so arousing you felt your walls clench on nothing.

“Fuck.” You let your head fall back and closed your eyes. Reaching for his hands on your hips, you held on tight and joked breathlessly, “The book will give us more groupies than the band ever did.”

Haechan stopped sucking on your clit long enough to retort, “God, I hope so.”

An involuntary shudder shot through you when he latched back onto your bundle of nerves. You squeezed his hands even tighter, eyes winching closed. Another moan tumbled off your tongue. Haechan didn’t play when he was sucking you dry.

It was probably one of the few things in life he took seriously.

“Mm,” you hummed, trembling when his tongue swirled around your entrance before returning to your clit. “So good, baby.”

Haechan made a noise against your cunt. “You know, you only call me baby when I’m getting you off.”

“Do I?”

“I like it.”

“I like when you touch me,” you said in barely a whisper, biting your lip lest you go into juicy detail.

Haechan would have loved that.

You were so far gone already. Your hands found his hair, your hips bucking against his face. Little nothings mingled with your moans. Haechan kneaded your hips, but as you got closer, he reached up to grab and squeeze your breasts instead.

It felt so good you felt guilty that you weren’t touching him. Releasing his hair, you lilted back and wrapped your hand around his hard cock, feeling it twitch the moment your fingers made contact.

Haechan broke away from your pussy and scolded, “Don’t touch me.”

“Why not?”

“Only think about yourself right now. Be selfish. You’ve earned it.”

You swallowed and let Haechan guide your hands back into his hair, and he bit the inside of your thigh as a warning to do as he said. Your body tensed when he lapped at your clit again and you decided to obey. You would be selfish.

Haechan smirked when you arched away from him, propping yourself over him on your arms and riding his face. He reeled a hand back and slapped your ass, the best way he knew how to convey to you that you were giving him exactly what he wanted.

He lapped at the arousal between your folds, his tongue teasing your bundle of nerves again. Haechan knew that was your weak spot, where you were most sensitive. If he played his cards right, he could have you screaming for mercy from the overstimulation.

“Right there,” you panted, voice pitching higher. "I'm close."

For once in his life, Haechan said nothing. He ate you out like a man starved, suddenly grabbing your waist to keep you in place. He sucked on you until your legs shook and you whimpered his name.

And when orgasm hit, you went higher than where the cocaine took you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your body shuddered, and you chanted, “Fuck,” like a mantra.

Haechan kept going until you pushed frantically at his head.

“Stop. Stop. Stop,” you begged, fisting his hair and finally earning yourself a reprieve.

Haechan chuckled, slipping his arms under your legs and tossing you to the side. You gladly rolled to your back, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, waiting to come back to your senses.

You felt his hand smoothing its way up your thigh before cupping your sex, feeling all the slick he’d gotten out of you and muttering, “Fuck,” under his breath. His fingers prodded into your pulsing pussy, hooking at your sweet spot, and you writhed, sensitive.

“Put a condom on,” you told him hurriedly, still trying to catch your breath.

As you came down from the high, Haechan crawled over to the other side of the tent and returned with a packet, tearing it open with his teeth. You watched him fit the condom on his hard cock and you spread your legs invitingly when he moved between your legs, grasping your knees and pushing them toward your chest, bending you in half.

You rested your hands on his hips and drew him toward you when he slipped his cock into your entrance and stroked in slow. “Mm, baby, you’re so good,” you mewled dramatically. “The biggest ever.”

Haechan, whose eyes had been on his cock sinking into your tight cunt, tossed his long hair out of his eyes and said, “Fuck you,” with a tiny snort.

You grinned and sank your fingers deeper into the flesh of his hips, tugging him toward you in tandem with his movements. He loved when you left scratches and bruises in his skin. A reminder of you he got to carry around with him for days after.

“Kiss me,” Haechan whispered, rocking into you harder.

Without missing a beat, you lifted your head to meet his lips, but his hands wrapped around your wrists and pinned them to the ground. A noise of frustration left you, because you couldn’t close the rest of the distance with him holding you down.

Nipping at your lips, he taunted, “What’s the matter?”

Rather than answer, you moaned as his cock bottomed out in you again. Your face tensed with pleasure, every thrust making your toes curl. You were still raw from orgasm and his cock hitting you right made a shudder race through you.

Haechan went still. When you peered up at him in confusion, he smirked and said, “Fuck me.”

You hooked your thighs higher up his hips and started grinding into him. Haechan looked down to watch you bouncing on his dick, sucking in a breath when your pace grew more hurried and desperate.

“Please move,” you whined, eyes closed. Sweat formed at your back with the effort, your body burning.

“You’re doing fine without me.”

“I’m never okay without you,” you said breathlessly, out of your mind with lust and emotions. The two were colliding.

Haechan draped over you, slipping his fingers into your hair, and fucked into you at a ruthless pace for that, making you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out.

The last thing you wanted was his name echoing through the woods. You would never live it down.

“Oh god. Oh fuck.” You clawed at his back, trying to find purchase.

Haechan gathered you in his arms and you sat up face-to-face, straddling his lap. Haechan kissed at your neck, crushing you in his arms. You rode him, his hips matching your rhythm.

“Come for me,” Haechan purred in your ear, saying your name silkily. “Again.”

It wasn’t fair that he could snap his fingers and your body would answer. You were so close and had been together for so long, your skin knew his touch. Your heart gave in to his every desire and whim.

Ecstasy spilled over and a moan caught in your throat.

Haechan held you even tighter as you came, biting his lip as he felt you clamp down on his cock, holding his breath to stave off his own orgasm until you sighed his name and slumped against him.

You buried your face in his shoulder and whimpered as his thrusts turned ragged, his groans pitching higher until he released into the condom. You rubbed his back and kissed his neck while he came down, lowering you to the floor gently and landing at your side.

The two of you breathed heavily. Sex broke something in you both that you needed. It felt final.

Like it was the last time.

Haechan discarded the condom and crawled back to you, getting a blanket out from one of the sleeping bags to drape over your bodies. You nestled closer to him, ready to doze off in his arms. Haechan settled a hand on your thigh, the other behind his head. Your eyes fluttered closed as his chest rose and fell with his breaths.

“I’ll never stop fighting,” you whispered with resolve. “And you shouldn’t either.”

He said nothing, but pressed a kiss to your temple.

The next day, the van was on its way home. You sat in the passenger seat as Jeno drove, just as you had when summer - and the trip - started.

When Jeno parked at a rest area, you ventured inside to look for a payphone.

Haechan leaned back against the van, arms folded.

Mark wandered over to him, asking in a soft voice, “How is she?”

“Ask her yourself,” Haechan retorted.

Mark frowned. “You know her better than anyone.”

Haechan’s eyes darkened as he said, “You hurt her and I’ll kill you.”

Mark opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Jeno, who had been hovering close by, smirked at the exchange and murmured, “Says the one person actually capable of hurting her.”

Haechan shot him a glare. “She loves Mark more than she ever loved us,” he started.

Jeno was quick to cut him off, “You know damn well that’s not true.”

“Maybe she’s right about us,” Mark spoke up, glancing between them. “Maybe we should stay together and try to make it work.”

Haechan let his head fall back and groaned. “Pussy power strikes again.”

“Are you done?” Mark snapped. “You are the biggest hypocrite, you know. You’re hoping and praying she’s right. That she makes something happen. You’re trying so hard to look like you don’t care, but you don’t want to lose us.”

Tears filled Haechan’s eyes. His lips pursed.

Jeno cocked his head. “We know that, Mark,” he crooned cutely. “Our Donghyuck cares the most. That’s why he tries so hard to hide it.”

Haechan quickly wiped his cheeks. The tears had escaped too fast. After a pause, getting himself together, Haechan said, “I’m sorry for yesterday. I didn’t mean it.”

“We know that too.” Jeno reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

The two looked at Mark expectantly. His anger faded and he huffed a sigh.

Your voice broke the moment. “Guys!”

“What?” Jeno barked, turning to see you racing across the parking lot toward them.

You could hardly breathe, panting like you’d run a marathon. “They want to publish the book!”

All three of them gaped in perfect sync.

“Are you fucking serious?” Haechan wheezed.

“Yeah,” you said in disbelief, chuckling to yourself. “They want me to keep sending in chapters and they’ll assign me an editor to help organize everything. And then I’ll have to fill in the gaps, but… it’s gonna be a book. An actual book!”

In the next second, you were the meat in a boy sandwich and you couldn't have been happier about it.

Once everything calmed down, Mark shook his head and exclaimed, “This is insane!”

Haechan took your face in his hands and planted a big kiss on your lips with a loud, “Mwah!” Which made Jeno whine, “I was gonna kiss her and I can’t now!”

“I’ll kiss you too,” Haechan taunted, wagging his tongue and reaching for Jeno, making the drummer turn on his heels and run for his life.

You giggled as Haechan chased after him and Mark took the opportunity to wrap you in his arms and bury his face in your neck, enveloping you in a hug. You held him tightly and closed your eyes, breathing him in.

“You did it,” Mark whispered, saying your name in reverence. “You made this summer count for something.”

Tears pricked your eyes.

Haechan and Jeno traipsed back over, pushing and shoving each other with big grins on their faces.

With the celebration winding down, you looked at your boys one-by-one and said, “There’s a couple of conditions.”

Jeno grumbled. Haechan arched a brow.

“I won’t write the last chapters and send them in until you get clean,” you said, pointing at Jeno.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious.” You planted your feet and stared him down. “You think I’m going to risk this book being a hit and us getting a huge payday just for you to blow it all on blow?”

Jeno sulked.

“It’s a fair condition,” Haechan said lightly.

“I know it is!”

You waited patiently.

“I’m not an addict,” Jeno insisted. “I am a casual user.”

“Then you can casually stop,” you smarted.

He made a face. After a tiny lull, Jeno handed you the bag from his back pocket and you didn’t hesitate to cram it into your own. Its next destination was the nearest toilet.

You turned to Mark. “There’s a condition for you too.”

Mark grimaced nervously. “I’m listening.”

“You have to do what you want with your own life. Not what your parents want.”

Mark visibly relaxed. His eyes went soft. Something happy and content washed over him. “But I don’t know what I want.”

You shrugged. “You have time to figure it out. Change your mind as many times as it takes until you find what makes you happy.”

“Okay,” said Mark, smiling.

Finally, you turned to Haechan. “And you.”

He tilted his head and puckered up his lips.

“You’re not your father, Haechan.”

“You sure? I was pretty quick to cut you down.”

You scoffed. “Last I checked, I’m still standing. Bitch.”

Haechan chuckled.

“She’s right,” Jeno said, draping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to press a kiss to your cheek. “We shouldn’t give up on the band already.”

“The book could make some people check us out,” Mark added, optimistic again.

All eyes were on Haechan. He smiled bashfully and said, “And if it doesn’t - if it all fails - at least we’ll know we tried.”

“No regrets,” you finished with a nod.

Haechan suddenly reached into his pocket and handed you a balled-up page.

The missing chapter of your memoir.

You gaped when you realized what it was. “I should have known you took it.”

“I couldn’t handle someone talking so highly about me,” he said under his breath.

“Oh. Only you’re allowed to speak highly of yourself?”

Mark and Jeno laughed.

Haechan did too. Then he sobered and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for believing in me.”

You gave him a puzzled look. “Haechan, you started the band. Don’t you remember?”

“No?”

“We met in detention in eighth grade,” you reminded him, to which Haechan bobbed his head. “You noticed Jeno drumming his hands. You said you saw Mark playing acoustic by himself during lunch. And you heard me singing under the bleachers when I skipped gym.”

“I forgot all that,” Haechan mumbled, his eyes twinkling like they shone with stars. “Damn, I really gotta quit drinking.”

Mark moved to your free side and said, “Yeah, dude. We’re all here because of you.”

Haechan looked at his three best friends, his family, smiling at him, and it almost broke him on the spot. He slid his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

Jeno laughed loudly. “I’ll be damned. All you’ve ever wanted is to be the center of attention and now that you’ve got it, you don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“Yep,” Haechan said with a sheepish grin.

You closed the distance and hugged him, patting the back of his head. “It ain’t over till it’s over,” you whispered for his ears alone and Haechan let go the breath he’d been holding, releasing all the tension and pain in his chest.

Once you parted, Mark reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. You melted into his familiar arms and flushed when he said, “You are, by far, the greatest person I have ever met.”

“Stop it.”

“Okay.”

“Wait.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and lifted to your toes. “Maybe a little more.”

Mark smiled as his lips met yours in a chaste kiss that he poured his all into.

A kiss that was dramatically interrupted by Jeno, knocking into Mark enough to jostle you both. “It’s not your job to save us, you know,” he chided sweetly.

Yes, it was and it always would be. Because they saved me first.

“Hey, I’m just an instrument of the power of rock and roll,” you said, putting a hand on Jeno’s chest and giving him a playful shove.

“I take back every compliment I’ve ever said to you,” he joked, tickling your sides.

You laughed.

The four of you gabbed and teased each other for what felt like an eternity. The air was lighter. The sun a was a little brighter. Your boys were smiling again and you felt the pieces of your heart snapping back into place.

Hope is a powerful thing. A gentle promise that maybe - just maybe - we could all be happy and whole.

“We’re burning daylight,” Jeno eventually said.

You exclaimed, “Let’s hit the road,” and it was the first time you said it without dread.

Hopping into the van after you, Mark stuck his head out and called, “Don’t forget the trash.”

Jeno proceeded to scoop Haechan up in his burly arms and carried him to the van.

“Very funny,” Haechan deadpanned, but he couldn’t help but grin.

Smiling till your cheeks hurt, you got in the driver’s seat and fired up the engine, pulling out of the rest area and onto the highway, toward the new life awaiting you and your boys.

Everything would change for us. The drive home wasn’t some miserable journey we’d been fearing. It was the final chapter of our summer, but only the beginning of our story.

#nct #nct smut #haechan #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #haechan x reader

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sc0tters · 7 months

Text

Fool For You | Vince Dunn

summary: when Vince sees you with another guy he can’t sit by when you get too close.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving), choking, swearing.

word count: 2.38k

authors note: I have never written for Vince until now, so I don’t know if any of this made sense… I like this man though so I hope you guys can sit through reading this.

You and Vince went around in circles.

One month you couldn’t stand the boy and the next you were practically living in his bed.

It was a cycle that your friends couldn’t stand as they watched your heart remain in the hands of the man who didn’t know how to deal with it.

They had brought you out to a bar after rumours of Vince having a new girl in his life came out “I want you to meet someone!” Heidi called out motioning to a guy who had been staring at you for the last fifteen minutes.

He seemed much quieter than what you would go for “hey.” You smiled swirling your drink in your hand.

Tonight you were meant to be saying goodbye to Vince for good as you moved on to someone new “I’m y/n!” You introduced yourself over the sound of blaring music in the speakers.

From across the bar sat on a seat alone Vince was pissed. Watching you smile as the boy you were with leaned down to whisper something into your ear. That little dress you wore was something that the hockey player hated on you.

Not because it barely went over your ass but because Vince didn’t like other guys getting to see you looking the way you did in that dress.

Vince fixed his bow tie as he waited for you to come out of your bathroom “we’re gonna be late!” He groaned looking up from his watch “should I wear these or those?” You asked holding up two different sets of high heels.

The hockey player felt his jaw tense staring at your body from head to toe “you aren’t wearing that.” Vince shook his head getting up from your bed “what’s wrong with this?” You frowned thinking that you looked cute.

It wasn’t often that you got the chance to get all dressed up and you really liked the dress “look I’m not going if you’re going to wear that.” He raised his hands not wanting to argue “give me a sec.” You sighed dropping both pairs of heels as you turned back to your bathroom.

Vince couldn’t help it as that night went through his mind watching you laugh at whatever stupid thing that guy said “are you even listening to me?” The girl who sat next to him scoffed seeing where his eyes had gone.

She was the one who had been rumoured to be his new love connection “you are totally unbelievable,” she added getting off of the chair next to him as she made her way to find someone new.

The hockey player remained sat in his seat until the boy leaned forward to kiss your lips. Vince swore he saw red as he practically took two long strides before he got to your side “hey-” the boy in front of you groaned as he was pulled away from you.

Before they could have a conversation where you could tell Vince to fuck off he instead landed a blow to the boys cheek sending him back tumbling “Vince!” Your eyes went wide as you sent him a harsh glare “c’mon.” The hockey player grumbled wrapping his hand around your arm as he pulled you off of your seat and in the direction of the door.

The humid Seattle September air hit your face “where are we going?” You asked furrowing your eyebrows “get in,” Vince opened the passenger door to his black G-Wagon.

You feet remained stuck to the sidewalk “I’ve only had one beer and I know that you’ve only had one drink.” That was true, despite being at the bar for an hour you had been nursing the same drink all night.

The mental coin toss went on in your head as you contemplated putting up a fight “listen baby, you look so fucking good right now that I just want to get my head between your thighs.” Vince’s words sent shivers down your spine “but I can’t do that if you’re going to be difficult.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw causing you to practically jump into his car.

It shouldn’t have been this easy for him to get you where he wanted it but you were always going to have to try harder to not fall into his hands like putty “what about her?” Your voice was soft as he slammed his car door behind him.

Vince sighed as he turned to face you “she doesn’t matter.” He mumbled hooking his fingers under your jaw “yeah she does.” You nodded letting your lips form a frown.

The hockey player rubbed his calloused thumb against your cheek “you are the one in my car baby.” Vince’s words made your hand land on top of his as you nodded.

That moment felt foreign as his eyes stared into yours “wanted you all to myself,” his confession made you smile “really?” The boy nodded as he kissed your lips.

His over hand went to your leg tracing up your skirt “Vince,” you whimpered pulling your lips from his “what do you say we go back to mine?” The hockey player smiled as you nodded.

The drive back to his was quiet, you looked out at the road for the most part silently hating how wet your panties grew at the thought of what Vince was going to do to you “penny for your thoughts princess?” He asked watching you turn around to him with nothing more than a nod “you were a fucking idiot tonight.” You spat sending Vince a glare.

It made him laugh “‘m fucking crazy about you baby.” He confessed pulling into his garage before his car came to a stop.

Your palms grew sweaty as the boy came around to your side to let him open your door for you “shouldn’t even let you get what you want with the way you acted tonight.” Vince ran his fingers through your hair “thinking you are could find someone better than me?” His words continued as your body pressed up against the side of his car.

A whimper left your lips “why don’t you go be a good girl and go sit upstairs for me?” His hand tapped at your thigh as you nodded listening to his instructions as you made your way upstairs.

You removed your shoes reaching behind your back to undo the zipper “keep on disappointing me today baby.” Vince clicked his tongue as he leaned against the frame of his door “sorry Vincey,” you apologised letting your head drop.

Vince smiled as he walked over to you “don’t be,” he forced your head up to look at him “gives me an excuse to fucking rip this dress up now.” Before you could attempt to protest the sound of fabric ripping made you gasp.

You were surprised at how little effort it took from the boy to rip a straight line down the back of the dress “fucking hell baby.” Vince groaned seeing your matching lingerie that was hidden between by the fabric of your dress.

The boy smiled running his fingers over the straps of your bra “you’re so fucking beautiful.” He cooed pressing a kiss on your shoulder “all mine too.” The hockey player added smirking as you looked at his reflection in the mirror.

Vince pushed you onto his bed watching as your body bounced on the comforter “you know that if I was with him he would already be fucking me?” You blinked repeatedly not enjoying the way your body basked in his sight.

Naturally one of your talents was to piss Vince off as you pressed at his buttons “that mouth is forever going to get you in trouble.” He sighed letting his knees fall between your legs “such a pretty baby.” Vince mumbled pecking your lips.

His mouth nipped at your jaw pressing soft marks against your bone. He moved on the journey down to your core sucking at the valley of your breasts, before he moved to your stomach “fuck Vince.” You cried seeing his eyes staring right back up at yours.

Vince smiled as he was faced with your clothed core “let’s get these off baby?” The hockey player asked hooking his fingers in your waistband.

The thong drove down your legs before he threw it across the room “been waiting to see this all fucking day.” Vince let out a grunt as he placed a kiss on your clit.

The sensitive nub sent shivers up your body “Jesus Vince,” you gasped locking your fingers in his hair as his tongue licked up your slit “just me baby.” The hockey player laughed driving his tongue into your core as it lay flat “don’t stop!” You begged as his lips wrapped around your clit making sure to focus most of its attention there as his fingers curled into your cunt.

It was hot has the boy seemed like he was working for his harder than he had worked for his Stanley Cup win. Vince watched as you drove your hips into his face “you’re so hot.” You blurted out making him smirk as your hands dragged through his hair giving it the occasional tug when the pleasure grew too much for you.

Vince felt his cock grow hard as it throbbed against his boxers “I know baby, I know.” He used his free hand to lightly slap your clit repeatedly “shit Vince!” You gasped screwing your eyes shut as your pussy clenched around his fingers.

Before you knew it you were given a rude awakening when Vince retracted his fingers from your core as he smiled seeing you try to protest “you really think you could act like that all night and then get away with it?” The hockey player let out a laugh as he shook his head “want to finally be a good girl and listen to me?” Vince sat up straight as he ran his hands down your thighs.

You whimpered nodding your head repeatedly “please Vince.” You knew your were getting your way when he pulled his shirt over his head.

Within seconds a messy pile of clothes formed serving as a contrast from his clean wooden floor “don’t know how much I missed you.” Vince’s words were soft as he ran his painfully hard cock over your clit “gor a weird way of showing it.” You mumbled sending him a glare “you’re lucky that I need you.” The hockey player let out a grunt as his cock slid into your cunt.

You needed little to no time to adjust to his size, which was good because he wasn’t going to give you it “fuck Vince.” Your head dug into the mattress as he brought your legs up to your sides “not so mouthy now?” Vince smirked picking up the pace of his thrusts as the new angle caused his cock to slide deeper into your pussy.

Your hips tried to ride his in an attempt to help relieve the pressure between your legs “you really think he could have done this for you?” The hockey player scoffed growing annoyed as he thought back to how that guy from the bar ran his fingers across your neck “could have had you gasping for air like this?” Vince let his hand wrap around your throat as he let his calloused fingers squeeze the sides.

Vince smiled to himself as you nodded moaning when his cold chain landed on your chin “only you V.” Your eyelids grew heavy with your brain only focusing on your cunt clenching around his cock “all yours.” Those words made an animalistic switch go off in his head.

The sound of skin slapping suddenly erupted in the room as your cries of pleasure became a mere background noise to it “shit Vince.” You groaned bringing your hands to cup his as you wanted to kiss his lips.

His tongue dragged along your lower lip “my pretty little girl.” Vince cooed as your soaked cunt squelched each time his throbbing cock drove further deeper into it.

Your head pushed back when your breath went shaky “feeling good?” The hockey player smirked as he saw how swollen your lips had become.

It was needy as you whined “so fucking good.” His hand from your throat went to your clit “let the world hear who makes you feel like this.” Vince always liked hearing you scream especially when it was in your apartment where your neighbour was forced to listen through the wall that stood between your bedrooms.

But his bedroom always made him feel differently as it seemed that his walls soaked in your sounds to then speak of the story later “don’t stop Vince.” You begged as the sensations between his cock and his fingers suddenly started to become too much for you.

As your eyes screwed shut you couldn’t help it when your brain went back to how this always ends, you leave in the morning and to your friends annoyance their same lecture then has to be delivered “beg for it baby.” Vince ordered drawing your attention away from your thoughts.

You huffed your chest out “please Vince,” you cried out “only get like this for you.” Your statement was true as no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get rid of him.

How his fingers felt on your skin “fuck I’m coming.” As Vince shot his hot ropes of release into your cunt it caused your orgasm to come over you as the boy made sure to fuck you through it.

Both sets of breaths were heavy “did so good princess.” Vince kissed your lips as his cock slid out of your pussy making your body shudder.

The hockey player watched in amusement as his come oozed out of your cunt “fuck!” You almost jumped when the boys fingers scooped up the release and shoved it back into your pussy “had to make sure none went to waste.” Vince shrugged sending you a grin before he came to lay next to you.

Your fucked out state was enough to make him hard all over again “you were stupid tonight.” Your tone was serious as you knew you had to talk about what he had done “for you I’m a fucking idiot.”

#vince Dunn smut #Vince dunn #hockey smut #nhl smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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d-targaryenshoe · 4 months

Text

Frozen Pain - Jackson Avery

Word count: 1600

Summary: Love that's real, doesn't know a distance, does it?

You're holding a cup of coffee, comfortable in the luxurious beige couch in your penthouse apartment in New York. You held a letter in your hand, visibly upset.

Hey y/n

I hope this letter finds you very fast. It has been quite some time since we last saw each other at the hospital, or even had a good talk.

And I wanted to let you know that everyone misses you so bad. The hospital just isn't the same without you, or our after-shift drinks at Joe's.

There have been changes since you left. So stay calm when reading this. But Jackson and Maggie are dating now. It came as a surprise to all of us, and it may seem evil but I miss seeing you happy with him.

I thought you should know since you were...you know what I mean.

I know it's been a while since we last spoke, but I hope you'll find the time to write back when you receive this letter.

Take care, I hope to hear from you soon.

Amelia

"I can't believe this... Jackson and Maggie?" You muttered to yourself placing your cup of coffee on the table and folding the letter closed.

Images of you and Jackson together, happy and in love, flash across the screen. The memories of your past relationship flood your mind.

You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. You pick up your phone and dial Amelia's number. After a few rings, she answers.

"You have no idea how much I waited to hear you." Amelia sounded emotional about the fact she noticed you calling for the first time after you had left. "Y/n?"

"Amelia, why didn't you tell me about them when I was still there?" Your voice trembled even if you didn't want it to. "I should've known, you know I should've."

" I didn't know how to break it to you. I thought it would be better if you heard it from me." Amelia spoke, sounding apologetic.

"Well, thanks for that. I can't believe he moved on so quickly." You sighed, leaning back into the couch, staring out of your window. "Maybe I left at the right time."

"I know it hurts, but y/n, you decided to leave Seattle. You had to follow your dreams, remember?" Amelia reminded you.

You sighed deeply, nodding your head even if she couldn't see. " I know, but it doesn't make it any easier. I thought what we had was special."

"It was special, and it still is. But sometimes life takes unexpected turns. You deserve happiness too, you know that." She answered on the other side.

" I just wish I didn't have to find out this way." You muttered, wiping away the tears that fell from your teary eyes.

"I understand. But remember, I'm here for you, no matter what." The Shepherd sister spoke. "Just remember, you're strong and capable of creating your happiness."

"I will try to remember that." You hang up the phone and take a moment to collect yourself. Despite the pain, you know deep down that you made the right decision by pursuing your career in New York.

You open your laptop that's on the coffee table and check your emails. You notice a mail from Jo with the subject 'Don't hate me'. You click on the email and start reading.

From: Jo Wilson

Subject: Don't hate me

Hey y/n,

I hope you're all settled and doing great. I wanted to let you know something that happened yesterday.

I bumped into Jackson and Maggie in the parking lot, and it seemed like they were arguing, or breaking up, or anything else that wasn't any good. And yes, sometimes I'm too nosy.

I know your history with Jackson, so I thought I should let you know.

But here's the thing... I accidentally I repeat, accidentally, let it slip that you live in New York.

I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to reveal any of it! Not without your permission. I just wanted to give you a heads-up that there's a big chance he's on his way to you.

You quickly close the laptop, unsure of what to do next.

You grab your cup of coffee and walk over to the sink. You place the cup in the sink and turn on the faucet, letting the warm water flow.

"Might as well do something productive to distract me." You whispered to yourself, looking at the dishes.

You proceed to wash the glasses, rinsing off any soap residue before placing them on a drying rack.

Suddenly you hear a knock on the door. You cautiously make your way to the door and open it, revealing the last person you'd expect standing on the other side.

Not thinking for another second you tried to shut the door.

"Even three seconds is enough...I just need to know that you're okay." He said, placing a hand on the door, making sure you didn't close it. "Wilson told me you took the offer in New York. I just- I had to see it for myself."

"Well, as you can see. I'm in New York not in Seattle." You shrugged at the man you once fell for or still had, but you couldn't show. "Maggie knows you're here?"

"Who told you that..." He furrowed his eyebrows, taking his hand off the door.

"Amelia wrote me, Jackson. I know you've moved on, so I think it's best if you do as well." You gave him a small smile, trying to close the door once again.

"You've been avoiding my calls and messages. Can we at least talk?" Jackson asked, his eyes staring back at yours.

" I guess we can talk, but I'm not sure what there is left to say." You sighed, opening the door wider for him to walk inside. "What do you want to know?"

You closed the door, sitting down on your couch.

"I just want to understand why you left so suddenly without talking to me. I thought we had something special." He folded his hands on top of his knees, looking at you.

You shook your head in denial, staring at the ceiling, feeling the tears pricking in your eyes. "Jackson, it's not that simple. Andrew died, Alex left, Meredith was going to leave, and I needed some time to process everyone leaving me."

"But why didn't you talk to me? We've always been open and honest with each other." Jackson turned his body towards you, leaning an arm on the couch headrest.

" I know, and I'm sorry. I should have talked to you, but I was terrified. Scared of losing you, scared of facing my own emotions." You answered, placing your face in your hands.

"I broke things off with Maggie, she...she doesn't feel as home as you do. We've been through hell and back, we can do it again." He said.

"Jackson, it's not that simple. We both have our baggage and unresolved issues. We can't just start from where everything ended?" You got up from the couch, walking over to the huge window, staring down at the busy city.

"I believe in us. I believe that we can work through our problems together." He spoke as you felt him standing behind you.

"I need time to figure things out. I need to understand my feelings and what I want. It's not fair to either of us to rush into anything." You replied, turning around, your heart quickening as you stared back into his bright eyes.

As Jackson stood in front of you, his eyes filled with determination, you felt your resolve waver.

"I'd do anything if I have to, only to make things work out between us," he said earnestly.

You let out a heavy sigh, "Jackson, you know it's not that simple. You've just left Maggie behind."

"I know, I know," he said, running a hand over his head. "But I've let go of things in the past that I regret now, but y/n, you? You're, you're something I could never regret, ever."

You turned back around, fighting back the emotions swirling inside of you. "I don't know if I can do this again." You whispered.

"Just...just give me a chance to show you." he pleaded, taking a step closer to you.

The memories flooded back, the laughs, the tears, the late-night conversations. Despite your best efforts, you felt a small smile tug at the corners of your lips.

You looked up at him, and he smiled back, a hopeful glint in his eyes, and the city lights twinkled outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of your penthouse.

He leaned in, and your heart skipped a beat as his lips met yours. The kiss was intense, filled with both longing and regret.

"What are we doing?" you whispered, breaking away.

"Right now? I don't know," he confessed. "But I miss this and I miss us."

The ache in his words mirrored your own emotions, but you knew it was dangerous to reopen old wounds. "We can't keep doing this to ourselves," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I know, but I can't walk away." Jackson pleaded, his eyes searching yours.

A surge of conflicting emotions coursed through you, and you let out a frustrated moan. "And you think, I can?" you admitted, feeling the weight of those words hanging in the air.

He pulled you close, and a bittersweet laughter filled the room. "Then let's try," he said, his voice determined.

As you looked into his eyes, the city hummed in the background, and you knew this decision would change everything.

#greys anatomy imagine #greys anatomy imagines #greys anatomy x reader #request open #jackson avery imagine #jackson avery imagines #jackson avery x reader #greys #jesse x reader #jesse williams x reader #jesse williams imagine #jesse williams imagines #jesse williams #greys x reader #greys anatomy #jackson avery

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sturnioloshacker · 5 months

Text

virgin no more - a vinnie hacker smut

a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended

cw: softdom!vinnie, sub!reader, praise kink, pussy eating, vanilla sex, soft sex, creampie, smut. this is an nsfw short, everything written is fictional. interact or don't, i'm not your mother

summary: you lose your virginity to your best friend vinnie

i’ve been thinking about it for so long and i feel that this time, it’s right. for years now, i’ve been a virgin. sure, i’ve had my fair share of kisses and makeout sessions in my past relationships, but i’ve never had sex with my past partners. one, i wasn’t ready and two, i’m terrified of losing it to someone i don’t trust with my heart and soul. but lately, i’ve been having thoughts about losing it to my best friend vinnie. vinnie and i have been best friends since his high school days in seattle. we both moved to la when he blew up on tiktok and now we’re both living in his new recently brought apartment.

it’s not my fault though! have you seen the man?! from his chiseled jawline to his perfectly sculpted god-like body that has been carved by the angels in heaven, he’s just simply irresistible. not only that, his personality is truly one of a kind. the sweetest, most caring human being on planet earth who wears his heart on his sleeve. the only problem is, he’s my best friend and i’m scared that he may not feel the same way that i feel about him. what if I ruin my friendship with him? that would be super awkward and embarrassing. then again, he hasn’t ruined our friendship every time he brings a girl home and fucks her senseless that she basically stumbles out of the house the next morning.

after taking the time to build up some courage, i decide it’s time.

“hey, vin. can i ask you something?”

“of course, what’s up?”

“this may be super awkward and embarrassing and you don’t have to answer, but what’s it like not being a virgin?”

“woah, um. it’s great, i guess. why you asking?”

“i guess what i’m trying to say is that i’m ready to lose my virginity.”

“that’s great, go for it!”

“i want to lose it to you.”

the silence in the room is so thick, you wouldn’t be able to cut it with a knife. vinnie and i sit opposite each other, our minds racing over what just transpired. great, i just ruined the most amazing friendship i could ever ask for.

“you want me to take your virginity?”

“yes. i trust you with my whole life. and i love you so much.”

“i love you so much. can i please kiss you?”

“please.”

he slowly leans in to capture my lips in one of the most passionate kisses i’ve ever had. the kiss is soft yet so hot. i feel him tug at the bottom of my shirt, wanting to take it off. i reach down to take it off my body, his eyes zoned in on my chest. his kisses move to my chest, kissing the tops of my tits before making his way down my cleavage. i unclasp my bra and remove it, letting it drop to the floor.

“they’re so pretty, oh my god. can i please touch?”

“of course, vin. they’re all yours.” i smile at him.

vinnie groans before using his big, strong hands to grope at my tits. squeezing, massaging, licking, sucking and biting, all of these combined had me weak in the knees. he’s making me feel so good right now, and we haven’t even had sex! i drop to my knees in front of him, the feeling of being so aroused is making me dizzy. my eyes are level with vinnie’s growing bulge. he looks big, is he going to fit? oh my lord, he’s not going to fit. i start pulling down his sweats, wanting to desperately see what he’s hiding. i release him from the confines of his underwear. jesus christ, he’s not fitting. there’s no way that all of THAT is going to fit inside.

“like what you see, princess?” he smirks.

“yeah i do. it’s so… big.”

“as much as i want your mouth around it, tonight’s about you.”

he grabs me by the back of my thigh, scooping me up into his arms. he gently throws me onto our bed before crawling up to me and placing a sweet kiss on my lips. he moves down my body, stopping at my panties. he looks up at me, a cute yet seductive smile plastered on his face.

“can i take these off, sweetheart? wanna see what i’m working with.”

“yes.” i breathe out, my heart racing and head spinning

he slowly removes my panties, gasping at the sight in front of him. he tosses my panties to the side before licking a stripe up my pussy with his tongue, earning a moan from me. i feel his tongue suck and lick at my clit, the feeling of pleasure rushing through my veins.

“you okay, sweetheart?”

“yes, please keep going. it feels unreal.”

vinnie continues his actions, only this time, he speeds them up. my little bundle of nerves that have never been touched by a man before are so alive and so sensitive, i can barely form any words now. i suddenly feel a tightness in my stomach. is this what i think it is?

“vinnie, i-“

“you close, baby?”

“i don’t know. my stomach hurts though.”

“you’re close to having an orgasm. want me to keep going?”

“yes! please don’t stop! i need to know what it feels like.”

vinnie sucks and licks my clit a little more before i feel a strange rush through my body. my legs shake at the intense pleasure, my stomach contorts and my pussy clenches at fresh air. my breathing is rapid but is soon calm as he slowly stops his actions.

“you did such a good job, baby. i’m so proud of you. you ready for my cock now?”

“i think so.”

“if it hurts, we’ll stop okay? i promise to go slow and make you feel good.”

“okay.”

vinnie lubes his cock up and jerks it for a bit before aligning it at my entrance. he slowly pushes in, the pain almost unbearable.

“want me to stop?”

“no, i’m okay. you can keep going.”

he pushes himself all the way in, bottoming out when he’s fully inside. we both moan at the feeling. i slightly adjust to make sure it fits and won’t destroy me. i nod my head, signalling to vinnie to move. he starts to slowly rock in and out of my pussy. the pain instantly becomes pleasure again as he fucks my walls. i wrap my legs around his waist, pushing him closer to me. he leans over, hovering over my figure before placing a kiss to my forehead.

“oh vin, you feel so good. i love you.”

“i love you more, sweetheart. god, i’m so glad you chose to lose your vigirnity to me.”

our lips connect in a passionate kiss. vinnie wraps his arms around my back, holding me close so that our chests are touching. he continues rocking into me and making me feel oh so good. i feel that strange rush coming back again, this time it’s stronger and right on the edge.

“oh vin, i’m close.”

“yeah? cum for me, pretty girl, cum on my cock for me.”

vinnie thrusts one last time and i feel all the same sensations from when he ate me out.

“oh fuck, pretty girl. you did so good, i’m gonna cum now okay?”

“please cum inside me, vincent. i need you so bad.”

vinnie moans at my words and it doesn’t take him long before he’s shooting ropes up and around my walls. i moan and whimper at the warmth inside me, watching it as it slowly leaks out. he pulls out and flops on the other side of the bed.

“that was amazing. you’re seriously the best.”

“glad you enjoyed, princess. now let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

he kisses my lips before scooping me up into his arms as we go to clean up our mess. i can now say that i’m a virgin no more and that my virginity has been taken by the one and only vinnie hacker.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker x reader

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hope-drunk · 1 year

Text

- thoroughfare | e. williams

| on the way to seattle, you decide to play a small game with ellie.

| content warning: f!reader, bottom!reader, top!ellie, oral (r receiving), pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl), implies ellie is taller than reader, reader takes dina’s role in the game (sorry dina), hunter and prey kink but not really, barely proofread and i hate this <3

Traveling through the woods with Ellie was more fun than you’d thought it would be. The long stretches on horseback felt like nothing when it was just you two talking. After you had found Jackson, albeit on accident, two years ago, you and Ellie became friends very quickly.

You two tried not to talk about the trip you were taking. Once she came to you with a location, there was no question in your mind about whether or not you would go with her. So, here you are now. Arms wrapped along Ellie’s torso, enjoying the scenery, and giggling like a maniac at some pun she’s said.

Once the laughter dies down, Ellie helps you off Shimmer, then puts her by a stream.

“We should stop for the night. Get some rest.” she says, taking out her sleeping bag, and a shotgun.

“Okay, yeah.” you say, following in her stride and getting your own sleeping bag out.

You were in a comfortable silence, setting up everything you needed to have a successful night.

“Do you want first or second shift?” you asked her.

“I’ll do both, just sleep.”

You scoff at her, “Ellie, if you’re the one getting us to Seattle I think it’s important you get some rest.” She shakes her head at you. “Please, for me.”

Ellie can’t deny the look you give her, your eyes are laced with genuine concern for her well being. It hasn’t been easy for her, and you know she doesn’t like sleeping because it just brings back the memories, but you figure something is better than nothing.

“Alright, I’ll take first shift.” she says, knowing she’ll “accidentally” let you sleep longer than you intend to.

She’s standing now, and your once worried eyes are now crinkled by a smile.

“Thank you, Ellie.”

“Whatever gets you there safely.” she replies, rubbing the inked fern covering her forearm.

“I’m gonna go look around while there’s still daylight, I need to stretch my legs.” you say, already starting to wander.

Ellie nods her head at you.

You don’t plan to go far, just enough to look at the different wildlife that lives out here. You walk around for about twenty minutes before Ellie calls your name.

“It’s getting too dark, come back.” she says.

“Why don’t you come and find me?” you yell back to her.

You hear her grumble to herself, and let out a sigh, then you hear the crunch of leaves under her beaten up shoes. This is your sign to scramble. You run behind a tree, one with a large trunk and sagging branches. Peeking out from behind, you find Ellie’s face through the branches. Her head was whipping around for any sign of you. You put your hands over your face, having to stifle your laugh, trying not to give yourself away. When you removed the digits from your eyes, Ellie was gone.

Now it was your turn to whip your head around. Your heart was suddenly racing. You knew she wasn’t in danger, but you didn’t know the reaction she would have to your impromptu game of hide and seek.

You felt hands on your shoulders. “Got ya.” Ellie whispers in your ear.

You gasp and she whips you around to face her. Usually, Ellie had a face that would comfort you. Right now? You were a bit intimidated by her. It felt like she had grown six inches since you saw her moments before. Her eyes even looked darker in this light. You try to back away from her, but you don't get far before you hit the tree that was once protecting you from her.

“Oh, first you’re hiding from me, now you’re trying t’run?” she says, moving impossibly closer to you.

The game wasn’t funny to you anymore. Actually, it was incredibly serious, and that was proven by the wetness that you felt pooling in your panties.

“Just wanted to play a game, Ells.” you say, suddenly finding your shoes very interesting.

Grabbing your chin, she says, “Don’t tell me you’re all shy now.” She follows your eyes every time that you try to look away.

For a second, just a second, you thought she was actually mad. But you could see her lips fighting a smile. Leaning down towards you, her nose brushes against yours.

“Tell me you want this.” Ellie says, whispering like you were in a room full of people.

“I want it.”

Her lips are on yours as soon as you finish the sentence. The hand that was holding your chin has now moved to your cheek, thumb caressing your face tenderly. Your hips move to meet hers, back arching off the tree. Ellie gets the hint, and uses her spare hand to reach down between your bodies. She undoes your pant button with ease, and shoves her hand into your jeans. You gasp as she begins to rub your clit over your underwear.

“Oh, Ellie.” you say while she moves her kisses to your neck.

“Don’t know why I’ve been waiting to do this.” she mumbles on your skin.

Stopping her assault on your neck, her hands smooth down your body before she practically rips your jeans and panties down to the ground. Her foot kicks your legs further apart before she drops to her knees in front of you. She runs a finger through your slick folds, humming in approval before diving in to taste you.

She sucks hard on your clit, causing your hand to move to her auburn hair, trying to steady yourself. Ellie sneaks a large hand up your shirt, toying with your nipple. You didn’t think you’d ever be this happy at forgetting to put a bra on. Her tongue was moving quickly through your folds. You look down at her, only to be met by her eyes.

The moan you let out is almost pornagraphic, and you swear you can feel Ellie smirk into your cunt. Her position on the ground made it feel like she was praying to you, she was worshipping your cunt.

Ellie comes up for a breath, thumb moving to rub your clit. “Taste so sweet, baby. Does it feel good?”

Your head nods on its own, which only causes Ellie to laugh.

“Feels s’good. Wanted this for so long.” you say, breathless.

“Yeah? Wanted me to fuck you? How many times did you think about me eating your cute little pussy like this while we were talking, hm? Did you go t’sleep every night with wet panties?”

You let out a moan at her words and nod your head again, but that’s not enough for her. She gives your thigh a quick smack.

“Yes! Yes, thought about it all the time. Oh please, Ellie, wanna cum so bad.”

She moves her head back towards your cunt, eating you out impossibly faster. Your legs start to shake, signaling your approaching orgasm. You’re practically grinding on Ellie’s face at this point, and she doesn’t mind one bit. While you use her tongue to get yourself off, she thinks this may be the peak of her life.

“I’m– gonna…” you try to finish your phrase, but it’s no use. Ellie moans into your pussy, and that sends you flying.

You’re sure your moans were loud enough to scare any wildlife away from you, and it took you awhile to even regain consciousness. When you did, Ellie was now standing in front of you again, trying to keep you propped up. You slouch into her chest while she rubs a hand up and down your back under your shirt.

“Shh… you’re alright, you’re alright pretty girl.” she coos.

She pulls your pants up, figuring she’ll have something to clean you up with back with all your stuff. Ellie basically carries you back to your sleeping bag, and makes sure you’re all clean before tucking you in.

“Ellie.” you whine out, feeling her presence move away from you.

“I’ve got first shift, remember? Go to bed, baby. I’ll wake you up.”

You mumble what she thinks is a complaint, before turning over and curling into yourself. It’s not long before she hears your breaths get deeper. Rubbing a hand over her face, she grabs her gun of choice before standing guard not far from your sleeping body.

Of course, Ellie doesn’t wake you up till the morning.

“I was supposed to take second shift!” you argue.

“You didn’t really seem in the position to keep watch, princess. Swear your legs were gonna give out if you had to stand for longer than ten seconds.” Ellie laughs out.

You turn red and let out a huff.

“C’mon, get on the horse. We can argue on the way.”

#ellie !#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fic #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams x y/n

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ladykailitha · 1 month

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Sweet Home Indiana

You guys are getting an absolute feast this week. Two chapters on regular posting days, the twenty snippets you got on WIP Wednesday, this, and of course more Across a Crowded Room tomorrow.

Enjoy!

Based off a post I saw on here (and didn't save for some reason) about the legal tangles gay people had to go through when gay marriage was federally legalized because a lot of them married different people in different states because their marriage in California wasn't legal in the other states and just never bother to get a divorce.

And my brain let's Steddify this shit Sweet Home Alabama style!

So here we go:

Eddie and Steve got married in Boston when Massachusetts made gay marriage legal. But they broke up when Eddie went to California with his band.

Cue Eddie going around and having a couple of really short marriages in different states. Tommy in New York for three months when the band was in New York recording an album. Billy in Hawaii for two weeks while Eddie was there on vacation.

Neither of them really mattered or were serious. Because they were only legal in the state they were performed in so Eddie didn't think anything about it.

Fast forward to a decade later, gay marriage is legalized across the country. Corroded Coffin has broken up and Eddie has a job as a tattoo artist.

Eddie goes to get a marriage license in Seattle where he's been living for the past five years. And is denied on the account he's a polygamist. He's still married to three different men in three different states.

Fuck.

His fiancee Chrissy is a legal assistant at a law firm so she has her bosses draw up annulments for Eddie's three marriages and has them sent out to all three of Eddie's exes.

Including Steve.

When Steve gets his papers, he's pissed. He hunts down Eddie's number and calls. Tells him that he can do the proper thing and tell him to his face he wants a divorce. None of this annulment bullshit like their relationship didn't matter. But until then he can fuck off.

Now Eddie's frantic. Because the reason why he and Chrissy were getting married in the first place is that her student visa ended in May and her work visa has been delayed three times. They have to get married otherwise she'll be deported. And no just a little across the border to Canada either, she's from Barbados.

He tells her the truth about Steve and how they were actually married for almost two years before Eddie left. They had been living in their home town of Hawkins where their marriage wasn't legal any way, but meant something to them.

Chrissy is upset he didn't tell her this sooner, because yeah, that's whole other kettle of fish. So she has her bosses draft a divorce decree and words it a whole lot nicer than the legalese of the annulment.

Eddie packs his bags heads to back to Hawkins and back to Steve. He has one week to convince Steve to sign the divorce papers.

He gets into to town and finds that Steve is the proud owner of the best bakery in town. And the best selling item is the chunky mint brownies Steve made just for Eddie when they first got together. Eddie gets a little sentimental about it, and Steve stubbornly refuses to sign the papers.

They go back and forth for a few days. They tumble into bed and Eddie wakes up, he finds Steve gone and the papers signed.

Only now that Steve has signed them, he doesn't want that anymore. So he breaks down crying and sobbing. He calls Chrissy and now Chrissy is as distraught as he is.

After they hang up Chrissy calls the bakery and Robin answers. Chrissy really needs to speak to Steve.

Robin tells her Steve can't come to the phone because he is covered in flour and can't because he'll get it messy. Chrissy asks if she calls his cell phone if Robin could hold it up to his ear, because she really needs to talk to him. But Robin refuses to budge. She banned Steve from having a cell phone around their giant stand mixer because he has lost three of them to the beast.

Robin offers to pass long the message, though. And Chrissy has to be content with that. She explains who she is and why Eddie needed the divorce. She tells Robin about Eddie's breakdown that morning and how he really didn't want to divorce Steve.

Robin and her get to talking about their best friends, missed connections and themselves.

While the girls are talking Eddie is having another freak out because he put the envelope containing the divorce papers in the mail box but realized he forgot to sign them himself. He needs to get them back so he can sign them, but he's afraid of getting arrested for tampering a federal post box trying to get the papers back.

He's near hysterics when Nancy finds him. She's in town visiting her family. And she helps him get the papers back by talking to the post office and they open the box and he gets them back.

She takes him to lunch to calm his clearly frazzled nerves. He tells her everything. And she tells him that while Eddie was in New York, Steve had gone to see him and when he saw how much bigger and better the big city was, Steve decided if he was going to win Eddie back, he had to make something of himself. And thus began the bakery. He almost had enough to fly to Seattle and woo Eddie. But then this happened.

Now Eddie is really stricken. He wants Steve so bad, but Chrissy is out of options.

Nancy gives his arm a squeeze and Eddie heads back to the hotel he'd been staying at.

He finally looks at his phone and sees a lot of messages and texts from Chrissy begging him not mail the divorce papers yet, she has a plan. Cue Eddie having a final breakdown in his hotel room, sobbing and wrung out.

There is a knock on his door and Eddie is confused the only person who knew his hotel and room number was Chrissy and she's in Seattle. But he gets up to answer and suddenly has an armful of Steve Harrington. Who is also a sobbing wreck.

After both of them calm down, Steve tells him he only signed the papers because he wanted Eddie to be happy. And if that meant being divorced from him, he'd do it.

But Eddie's isn't happy. He's sad and hurt and lonely. Steve is too.

They fall asleep in each other's arms, placing their trust in their best friends.

The next morning they are woken up by Robin and surprise surprise, Chrissy.

They explained that since gay marriage is legal everywhere now, Robin is going to marry Chrissy. And she'll swap places with Eddie. She'll go back to Seattle with Chrissy and Eddie can stay here with Steve.

It's perfect.

They get a marriage license and walked down the courthouse where Eddie and Steve are their witnesses. While the judge is talking, Steve pulls out Eddie's old ring. The one he returned to Steve when he moved out to be with his band.

He slips it back on Eddie's ring finger where it belongs. They kiss at the same time Chrissy and Robin do.

A couple years later Chrissy becomes a lawyer and her and Robin move back to Hawkins where Eddie has opened his own tattoo parlor, right next to Steve's bakery.

And they all live happily ever after.

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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adissonswifey · 10 months

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Cover your cough.

Addison Montgomery x f!reader.

Being on Addison's Montgomery service is not an easy job. Especially when you have to look for her all over the hospital. Unfortunately Seattle Grace has a lot of good hiding spots.

"Hey, have you seen Dr. Montgomery?" You asked one of the nurses.

"No, sorry." She replied and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, thanks."

You like most of the nurses, they're really nice and very helpful but some of them are horrible. For example, this one, her name is Bria and she's a pain in the ass. Which makes you sad because you've always been really nice to her, unlike other residents.

You had been looking for her for an hour already, You really thought that Bailey wanting to get rid of you, did not mention that Addison had taken time off. Just when you were really about to give up you walked into one of the one-call rooms. You sat down on the bed that faced the couch and saw pink scrubs you've been looking for.

"There you are, I've been searching for you all day Dr. Montgomery," you mumbled. "Oh, are you okay?"

She didn't look like she was ok. She was sitting leaning on the couch and almost melting.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, y/n," she replied.

You walked up to her and put your hand on her forehead. You had never seen an attending in such a state. Especially her. You've never seen her like that.

"Shit, you're burning up and I'm pretty sure that white paint has more color than your face. You're not okay, Addison. You're sick," you gasped. "Come on, I'll drive you home." You stuck out your hand.

"No, y/n. You have patients, you can't just leave. I'm gonna be fine." She protested trying to get up.

"No, come on. Lay on the bed or you can stay on the couch, whatever you feel comfortable with and I'll go to the chief and tell him that you're sick and that I'm the only one who's going to drive you home. You stay here."

As you said, so you did. You went to the chief and explained to him that you were currently on Addison's service and actually weren't busy at the time. At first he didn't like the idea, but when you started talking about how dangerous it was for her patients to stay, he quickly succumbed. Also, you bought water and a sandwich because she looked like she needed energy.

"Okay, I'm back. Do you want a sandwich? Water?" She nodded her head no. "Addison, drink this at least and don't argue with me." She finally gave in. "Are you in any pain? Anything I could look into?"

"My stomach hurts a little bit," she muttered.

"Lift your shirt up."

"No, y/n. That's fine, I'm fine."

"Stop being so stubborn, please let me help you. You finally have a chance to see how good I am." She smirked. "Now come on, lift your shirt a little bit."

You examined her abdomen and also did an ultrasound to be safe. Everything looked fine. But you could tell she was in pain, and you don't quite know why, but you felt a strange feeling in your chest. When you finally made it to your car you breathed a sigh of relief. You knew that at this point her only option was to go with you. I mean, after all, she was already in the car anyway.

It was the first time you were in the apartment of any attending, well, maybe not counting the fact that Derek practically lived in the house you lived. You climbed the stairs and soon found yourselves in a cozy apartment. You told Addison to sit on the couch and covered her with a blanket right off the bat. She looked innocent, almost like a baby.

"Why are you doing this?" You heard her raspy voice behind you.

"Huh?"

"You're nice to me and you've always been, even when you found out about me and Mark. Even when I was hard on you. I mean, I get that you're a doctor too so you help people, but just... why are you helping me?"

You couldn't hide the fact that you just cared. Fact, Addison did stupid things in life, as we all do, but that didn't make her a bad person. Besides, you started to have a little crush on her from the first time you saw her, and on top of that you became something like friends and she was really close to you. You understood each other.

"I just care about you," you responded and turned around to look at her. "Okay look, this is probably not a very good time to tell you this but... I kinda have a crush on you?" You made a weird face. "I didn't tell you anything because this whole thing with Derek and then Mark was hard on you, but yeah I have a crush on you, maybe something even more than a crush. Also we're friends, really good friends so stop asking me these ridiculous questions," you explained.

"You have a crush on me?" Her eyes widened.

"God, sorry I didn't mean to make you... Look, we don't have to do anything about it. I'll be fine. Just forget it." You smiled awkwardly.

Couple days later...

"You finally told her?" Mer asked and took a bite of her fries, you covered your face with your hands.

"That wasn't the plan but yeah I did. God, I'm so embarrassed." You laughed.

"Was she shocked?" Alex asked.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"You're right, this is dumb. She's practically you're boss." Cristina shrugged her shoulders.

"You're acting like you didn't screwd an attending yourself." You rolled your eyes and she just raised her hands in defense.

You're pager went off. You looked at it. It said 211 which meant that Addison paged you. You looked up at everyone's faces, most of them smirked.

"Is that your lover?" Izzie teased you.

"I hate you all, I have to go." You got up from the table and headed toward Addison's office.

You felt like you was going to throw up. You haven't seen her for a few days, after you left her apartment that day you couldn't go back. You felt stupid. You told her, you told her you felt something and she just sat there looking at you so you left as soon as you could. You didn't want to make things awkward between you, you had already passed that stage when Addison found out that your friend was Meredith.

You stood in front of the door urging yourself to knock, and when you finally worked up the courage you almost ran out of there.

"Hey, you paged me," you said looking into the office.

She was sitting at her desk, looking much better than a few days earlier. Although overall she always looked good which was unfair.

"Can we, ummm... talk about what happened?" She asked looking at you with a slight site of embarrassment in her eyes.

"Oh, sure. Why not?" you said ironically. "So I told you I have a crush and you looked at me like I was crazy, then I felt like I actually was, so I left and been avoiding you since then."

She stood up from the desk and faced you. You both breathed loudly.

"I didn't look at you like you were crazy!"

"You know when was the last time I said I liked someone!?" Now you both raised your voices. "What are you doing?" you asked confused when she came so close that you could feel her breath on your face.

"Would you just stand still?" She asked and came close enough that your lips touched in a kiss.

At that moment you thought you could fly. Your knees bent under you as soon as her hands reached your hair. God she kissed so well. Her lips were softer than anything you've ever known. It was sweet, effortlessly sweet. You wrapped your arms around her waist, her hands were in your hair. You lost yourself in her.

You break the kiss. You felt dizzy. You swear you could still feel her lips on yours. You were breathless for a moment, the silence was now filled only by your breathing.

"You..." you whispered.

"I didn't know what to say, y/n. I've never been with a woman... It's just so confusing because, I would know what I should've done that day, if you were a man but you're not and... I like you, I never even thought about falling in love with a woman. It's just... You're so caring, beautiful, smart... I..." Her eyes were running all over the room.

"Look at me," you breathed. Her blue eyes finally looked straight into yours. "God your eyes are so beautiful." You ran your thumb over her cheek. "We don't have to rush anything. Baby steps, okay?" you asked her and she nodded.

"Baby steps." She bit her lip. "Now, please kiss me." You smirked and pulled her closer to finally put your lips in a long kiss.

#addison forbes montgomery #addison montgomery #addison montgomery x reader #greys anatomy #oneshot

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lightwing-s · 3 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢 ; 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: since your last encounter, jason has been living rent free in your head. you didn't want to, you needed more, and more found you in an unexpected way.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 7,6k warnings: yn's dirty thoughts, sex, p in v, language, breast play,

a/n: i got lazy and gave up proof reading (again). i also got too excited and ended up writing a lot more than planned, but hey, i got to watch 'the devil wears prada' to write this, so it's a win!! Hope you enjoy it and see you in chapter four.♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

“And the Blades are offside! Still no score here in Seattle, as the Gotham Blades and the Kraken face off in…” announced the caster excitedly, the game going on without Yn paying a dime of attention.

Sunday blues had gotten to you. Following an unusually chilly summer night, rain came pouring down just as you’d arrived home, covering the entire city in a dome of dullness and melancholy. Laying on your stomach, the living room darkened by the closed blinds, and the game on tv a long forgotten past time, the images of the previous night still loomed in your head.

‘Why did you do it, Yn?’, was the question clouding your mind the entire day. ‘Why did you do it?’

Why did you allow yourself to go to bed with the guy you despised? Why did you have those feelings in the first place? It was confusing. Everything about Jason was confusing. You never liked each other, and yet he’s all sweet and nice to you all of a sudden. He’s taking you to the hospital. He’s making sure you’re not alone. He takes you home, makes you food in the middle of the night. All after being an asshole for the past two months.

Why did he change? When did he change? Was he always like that but you never paid attention to, or was it just a play, a trick he’s trying to pull in your mind? Is he trying to confuse you purposely, trying to play with your mind? He wouldn’t, would he?

It if wasn’t for the knocking on your door, you’d continue to torture yourself for the next few hours. Thoughts of Jason and his fucked up game flooding your mind. You heard the knocking again, groaning loudly, not wanting to leave the warmth of the sofa. But the sweet voice calling your name made you do it.

“Thank god, you’re alive!” Nessie sang, throwing her hands up in the air. Her words did not match her expression, however, painted in the most perfect mix of anger, worry and bad hangover. “Where were you?!” she asked, and you too repeated that same question at her.

“I looked for you all over the party!” you answered exasperated.

“Me too!” she informed. “I looked for you all over and Sammy said he saw you leaving with a guy behind you and that you were pissed drunk. I was fucking worried!”

“Sammy means bullshit,” you angrily replied, storming back to the sofa as you let your neighbor and friend close the door behind her, knowing full well this conversation would last long. You threw yourself on your previous seat, pulling your blanket over your legs and crossing your arms on your chest like a little child.

“So, you didn’t leave with a guy?” she questioned, one eyebrow raised at you and a concerned expression adorning her face. “I swear to God, Yn, and I’m not even religious. If anyone did anything to you, I swear I’ll…”

“We didn’t do anything!” you basically screamed, feeling as if the room conspired against you. You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall out. You’d hoped you would be able to hide it. Leaving it a secret from the world could mean it was never real to begin with.

“So, there was someone?” she kept her eyes on you, sensing there was something more to it. Watching your usual polished self start to crumble into a nervous mess. You wanted to deny, gaslight your way out of this. But Nessie was smart, and she knew you. She could read all your signs and tell instantly none of your words spoke the truth.

There was nothing you could do. You were now on a crossroad where any direction, any ideas, wouldn’t take you anywhere. You had to spill it. “I couldn’t find you and Jason had helped me look…”

“Jason the hot guy you were pining after?” she cut you off, her face suddenly changing from concern to slightly but mild excitement.

“I was not pining after anybody!” you argued, trying once more to clear her mind out of these stupid ideas. “He was helping me look for you, and since you weren’t anywhere to be found he took me to his apartment because he was worried about leaving me alone, okay? He was nice and sweet, but nothing else happened. Nothing!”

Nessie sat silently beside you on the sofa, staring at you blankly while she absorbed all the information you ‘d thrown at her. Under your breath, you prayed she’d stop there, that she’d be satisfied with your answer. Unfortunately, God didn’t hear your prayers. “Nothing?” she whispered, a knowing smirk appearing in her face.

You had to let out a scream, muffling it with a pillow as you did not want anyone else trying to snoop in this mess of a situation. “Nothing,” you tried to argue once again, but her beaming smile and amused expression broke you all over, forcing your eyes to roll out in annoyance. “I basically threw myself on him.”

“Oh my god!” that bitch dared to be amused.

“I couldn’t keep my hand off of him, and we… w-we…” you trailed off, not wanting to finish your sentence, but your friend finished it for you. You fucked.

“Were you drunk?” she asked, a tinge of concern returning to her tone.

“I wish,”

“Was it that bad?” she wondered. “You’re acting like this is the end of the world, but you just had sex with the hot guy you were pining all over. What’s the big deal?”

“I was not pining over him!” you screamed again, and exasperatedly continued. “And what’s the big deal? He’s a biker gym rat who’s probably got no jobs or hobbies outside going to the gym. He’s covered in tattoos and probably uses tons of drugs, and guys like that could never be proper partners and will always lead you to trouble.”

“Gosh, you were planning your wedding then?” she blankly responded.

“What the fuck? No!” you were getting progressively irritated. It sounded that, to her, this all didn’t pass as more than a simple joke, not seeing the serious issue within it. “He’s just not the kind of guy I’d like to see myself mixed with. My parents warned me a-about guys like this…”

“Oh! So, this is about your parents then?” Nessie concluded, missing the point once more.

“It’s not about them!” you shook your head. You tried to come up with something, to continue your statement, but your mouth opened and closed without anything coming out of it. Sighing deeply, you felt your energy levels start to drain. “This always happens.”

Thinking back at countless similar situations, you watched your friend’s eyes turn softer. An awaiting glint in her eyes for the story to continue. “Every time I get upset over them, when they make me mad, I just… Explode? I go out and do something stupid, something that I know would piss them off, because…”

“You want them to explode?” she cut you, more an assumption than a question. “You want them to be just as mad at you?”

Combing your fingers through your hair, you stop and wonder. You let her words sink in, a lightness over being finally understood and finally understanding yourself overcoming you. It often scares you how well she knew and understood you with just a couple years of knowing each other, but maybe that was just the three semesters of Psychology lessons speaking.

“I always end up doing something stupid that I shouldn’t have done,” your voice softened a reply.

“So, you’re saying your parents were right, then?” she inquired once more.

“That’s not it, Nessie, I-I…” you stammered. “Oh my god, please let’s move on from this subject.”

By this point, you’d already messed up your hair from how much you had nervously combed your fingers through it. There was a small lump forming on your throat, and your hands were clasped on your face, shielding your eyes from your surroundings.

“So…” Nessie started. “Was he good?” Your head snapped quickly in her direction, eyes wanting to scold her but smile failing to do the same. Failing to hold corners of your lips, you allowed the smile to spread and rolled your eyes at her apparent enjoyment. “Was he big?”

You let out a snort at the inappropriate question, but filled her in. Mouthing a ‘thick’ back at her, she let her mouth hang open, closing her eyes in deep dirty wonder. ‘How much?’ she mouthed in return, and you scanned the room for something that could resemble his majestic girth, deciding upon signaling by holding your ankles with both your hands. Perhaps an exaggeration, but you’d let her sleep with that “lie” in mind.

Her mouth formed an ‘oh’, shocked at your response, and you could swear that just thinking about it was making you a little bit wet. You proudly nodded at her, perhaps too proud of it now. Proud of the incredible achievement of taking it all in.

“How big?” she bobbed one eyebrow up, challenging. You gave her a demonstration, placing your closed fists on top of each other. He wasn’t the biggest, but he compensated with girth. Gosh, stop thinking about him! “Lucky girl.”

“You wish,” you laughed.

“I definitely do now.”

It had been almost three weeks since you’d last seen him. Rearranging your entire schedule, you organized your new routine with the sole purpose of avoiding him at all costs. From the months you’d met him almost daily at the gym, you’d come to know what times he liked to train at: very early mornings, the start of the evening or just as the gym was about to close. Thus, making the process of building up a new schedule a lot easier.

Sure, it might’ve been a stretch to go this far to avoid him. And maybe your new routine was kind of terrible and actually sort of hindered your days. But those were measures you needed to take in order to keep yourself sane. You didn’t know what you’d do if you saw him again.

In fact, your days seemed to have gotten longer, as you spent more hours in traffic. However, the lack of Jason in your daily life seemed to have increased your happiness and tranquility. You didn’t have to worry about him being around you, ready to drop something on you at any moment. And living without his often sarcastic and teasing remarks was so less stressful. It felt like, for once, you could live your life without a shadow haunting your days.

Life at work was also simpler. Since your boss had decided that the American dating scene wasn’t for her, and instead started looking for a husband at different European social gatherings, she had been out quite often, spending her weekends away in Monaco, Paris or Milan, and missing many work days.

That left you with more time to write. It has always been your favorite thing to do, writing away your thoughts on a paper, even if it never made it out of your notebook.

Ideally, you wouldn’t be working as an assistant. But that was the best you could do after graduation, having to find a job quickly before your father dragged you out of Gotham definitely. It certainly wasn’t perfect, but it allowed you to keep in touch with the area you desired to work on. Even better, you got to watch the life of an editor in chief right in front of your eyes.

It was the middle of the week, the day passing by slowly as you walked left to right through different rooms and floors to get whatever your boss needed done before today’s shoot. With summer approaching its end, ideas for the upcoming fall issues were thrown around, and now Sandra, your boss, was dead set that she needed at least something done by the end of the week.

Packing up your things and throwing them into your messenger bag, you hurriedly walked out from behind your desk right as Sandra was passing by. Following her footsteps, you two made your way out of the tall and imposing building of Wayne Publications.

“Did you get the samples I asked for yesterday?” she questioned, head glued forward, not moving to look at you.

“Yes, I do in fact,” you replied, handing her the thin deep blue sketchbook. “I made a collage for each designer with the pictures, just as you’d asked. Gio Waters had given me some when I interviewed her, and Nadia and her sister emailed me their looks this morning.”

You explained the process as you two continued to walk, people moving away from the infamous Runway Magazine’s editor in chief. “The collection isn’t finished, but it’s really interesting, I think you’ll like it. Everything is in there. A-and… Arkham’s Neglect…”

“Arkham’s Neglect?” she wondered out loud, facing moving slightly to show you the corners of a raised eyebrow.

“They’re this 80’s punk, anarchist, counter culture, all of… that, inspired new brand. They think the name sets forward the message they want to spread,” you explained the unusual group you sure found interesting while interviewing.

“And that message is…?” she prolonged her question.

“Only God knows,” you exhaled. Stopping in front of the building, where a lavish black car was parked awaiting her entrance, she finally turned back to face you.

“Yn,” she called you softly. “If you want me to take your idea seriously, you have to make more effort than this.” The clicking sound of her heels ceased as she entered the car, the door left open for you to close and circle around the vehicle to enter from the other side.

Working for Sandra was like working for Miranda Priestly, only it was actually nice. It’d started working for her even before you graduated college, and although very… honest with her words, she was always kind enough to at least listen to your ideas once in a while.

So hearing that feedback from her was kind of heart shattering. She had finally given you an opportunity to write something, not just carry her things around and take her meeting notes. Write. And you had been working harder than ever in it, using all of your free time on preparing, planning and writing it.

The car ride was quiet for a while, as you tried to free your mind from the self doubt she’d cast upon you. Sandra typed rapidly on her phone, and by the smile on her face you knew she must have been texting her new Italian boyfriend. So, you waited till she was done typing, eyes leaving the screen to resume your talking.

“Ibra messaged earlier saying everyone was ready and waiting at the studio. Stephanie, the photographer Mr. Wayne recommended, was already set. He said they are ready to start as soon as we get there,” you finished with a gulp, and knowing you well, Sandra turned to look at you.

“And what?” she questioned, voice monotone.

“One of the male models bailed out last minute, ” you informed, her fingers snapping to pinch the bridge of her nose. “He said they were trying to find him.”

“Or a replacement,” she cut you off.

“A replacement, of course.”

Sandra simply nodded in response, and resumed her incessant typing. You prayed she wasn’t sexting with the guy again, and to avoid another embarrassment, focused your eyes on the damp streets of Gotham. Grabbing your phone, you messaged one of the other assistants at the studio to let them know you’d need to find someone else to fill the empty spot.

As you made your way to the glass doors of the studio, you watched the people inside frantically move around, readying themselves for the grand arrival of Sandra Bevilaqua. Upon setting her Louboutin clad feet in the room, they all stopped. The Sandra effect.

“Ibra!” she called out for her favorite art director, and a tall and slender man came out from behind a white set of curtains and walked to her, giving her a quick embrace before turning to you with a brief acknowledgement.

Then, Ibra and Sandra stepped away from you, deep in discussion about the photoshoot at hand, and you took that as your cue to stay back and have a small break after the incessant running being Sandra’s assistant took. You needed coffee anyway.

You scanned the room looking for the small table that usually contained tons of cups filled with nectar of the gods to the brim. Warm and delicious. Finding the table just in a corner, close to the industrial style floor to ceiling windows. By the table stood a girl not much younger than you, camera in hand, and stealing a few snacks that were also placed on it.

“They got this Brazilian thing, they call it coxinha, I think. You should try that one, they’re really good” you suggested, taking a large cup that had ‘macchiato’ written on it as she turned to see you, a beaming smile on her face.

“I already got some of them,” she laughed, pointing to the napkin tucked inside her jacked pocket filled with those little snacks, and you had to let out a giggle too.

While she continued her nibbling and picking at the snacks on offer, you distracted yourself with the not unusual studio, a place you’d come to know now fairly well since starting to work at Runway. A few models recognized you too, waving hello and moving on with their preparations.

Being part of this world was quite insane, to be honest. You grew up having to hide your magazines under your bed because according to your religious parents it taught young girls to be “depraved” and “promiscuous” and not “wife material”. When you got the opportunity to work for them, you had to lie, and you still did, telling your parents you worked for Gotham Times instead.

You were too lost in thinking, watching the traffic move down the street, that you forgot you still had some work to do.

“Yn,” one of the other assistants ran to you. “Have you found the replacement?”

“I told you to find it!” you whisper-screamed, not wanting people to know you still had problems in your hand.

“I thought you would do it. You said…”

“Find a new model,” you repeated your text harshly at her.

“I-I thought y-you just sent it to me to remember to do it later,” she told you. Fucking stupid girl, you wanted to scream out, because you had something around ten minutes to start the shoot and one model still missing. But you were once in her spot, and you knew how upset she’d get after.

So you took your coffee and planned to walk out of the room in search of a model, even if you had to beg people on the street to do it. However, you didn’t count on someone blocking your way out, nearly causing you to drop your coffee if he wasn’t fast enough to hold the cup for you.

“Careful there,” he smiled, but your face turned to a frown as soon as you recognized the dark hair and the sky blue eyes. “Hello, love. Didn’t let it spill on you this time,” Jason winked, trying to initiate a conversation, a smugness set on his face.

Rolling your eyes, you removed your cup out of his grip, and bumping on his shoulder, walked away. Beelining to the corridor, you pulled your phone out and proceeded to search for the several phone numbers you’d be calling for the next few minutes. As you tried to think of what to say, rehearsing the words in your head, the blue eyed man would flock in instead, slowing your work down tremendously. But you had bigger problems to solve.

As you had anticipated, for the past ten minutes you had your phone glued to your ear, having called dozens of different modeling agencies begging them to send you someone, something, to save you. However, the best they could give you was “We can try, but it’s too last minute”. Well, fuck them. Now, you were about to run into the streets and start begging people to model for a fashion magazine.

“Yn!” you heard the soft yet powerful voice of your boss calling. Running back inside, you spotted her chatting with Ibra in the middle of the room. “Have you found a replacement?” she asked as soon as you arrived beside her.

“Errm… The agencies said it’s too last minute to find someone,” you offered, already awaiting reprimand.

“How come… How are we supposed to start the shoot then? Ibra!” she called Ibrahim again, words starting to just jump out of her mouth, something she rarely did, but that only happened when she was truly exasperated.

“We can start shooting the other models until Yn…” here it comes. “... finds someone else to fill the spot, yah?” he looked at you, eyes begging you to comply, and you did so, nodding incessantly as Sandra smiled away, happy with the option presented by the art director.

With a deep breath, you took another look around, tried to find something to distract yourself for just a moment. Mind working at a high voltage, you felt like you needed to decelerate, to take one, two, three breaths till your mind could start working again. The stressful situation making you instantly uneasy.

Your distraction came in the form of the raven haired demon, chatting happily with the blonde photographer you’d spoken to earlier. It then came to you dozens of questions about that situation. Why was Jason here in the first place? You’d only ever found him at the gym and at parties, and you honestly didn’t know what the hell he did for work, but he certainly didn’t work at anything related to this. This was your job, you knew everybody. He was never around before, unless…

Unless he knew the photographer.

She was beautiful. Long blond hair, eyes as blue as his, and an enchanting smile even you couldn’t deny. Were they together? She did seem a lot younger, but it’d be just like the type of guy he is to go after fresh, young babes. Urg. You hated him. Were you one of his young babes? Were just a dumb little fuck?

Urg. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. Instead, you opted for burning holes in his head with your eyes, glued to the scene ahead of you. He was laughing, laughing, with her, like you were all a joke. If everything was… Stop, Yn. You won’t get mad at him. You won’t. But the ache in your heart told you otherwise.

“Yn?” Sandra snapped her fingers before your eyes, breaking you from your trance. “What are you doing? Have you figured it out already?”

“Hmmm… I’m still thinking,” you gave a half-assed reply. Your eyes lingered from her to the boy stuck in your head. And she must have been following your gaze, because her own head snapped to the two inappropriate flirts chit chatting on the corner. A bright smile forming on her red lips.

“Perfect,” she stated softly and took one step in their direction.

“Wait, no!” you screamed, pulling at her arm. “Jason isn’t a good idea.”

“You know him?” before you had the chance to fix your mess, she continued. “Have you seen him naked?”

You almost choked at her question, and could bet a million dollars your face must’ve turned red. “W-why would you think that? I don’t know him.” you lied, and she clearly saw through you, offering you a look adorned by her frowned eyebrows.

“You just told me his name, Yn. We’ll be needing him to pose shirtless for the shoot. We are, after all, doing a “Sculpted Bodies” issue. And he looks to be pretty muscular.” Taking her glasses from where they stood hooked to her neckline, she placed it on her nose to take a better look at the man in question, returning her walk in his direction. “Don’t tug at my arm again, you’re not my child and call Ibra to find this man a new outfit. Hey, you?”

She screamed, and like a magnet, all eyes were on the scene.

“Jason, isn’t it? Yn here told. We are in need of a new male model, would you go back there and change?” she let him no, offering him no other option.

“Jason can’t,” you tried to argue, and his eyes snapped to your frame.

“Why not?” he asked, smugness still prevailing on the way he talked to you. “I’d love to.”

“That would be an awesome idea,” the blonde photographer chimed in.

“Of course you think so,” you gave her a forced smile, holding yourself together to not roll your eyes in front of your boss. “He has work.”

“I do not,” he scoffed, looking you straight in the eyes.

“Perfect!” Sandra clapped. “Ibra honey, find this beautiful piece of man a new outfit.”

Turning around, Sandra walked away, the blonde photographer you didn’t even care to remember the name following suit, swaying her hips as she strolled on the wooden floor. Moving your face, you found Jason’s eyes still lingering on your, a dark smirk plastered on his face.

“Please, don’t,” you asked, almost begging if you weren’t too proud.

“Why?” his question was filled with amusement. “Your boss said it herself. I’m perfect.

“You’re ruining my day,” you hissed through gritted teeth. In an attempt to look intimidating, your closed wrists rested on your waist, but there was no way you could ever frighten Jason.

“Why? Can’t stand the sight of me for too long, love?” he now whispered dangerously close to your face. Hoarse voice making you shiver. “Didn’t think I’d noticed you avoiding me at the gym?”

“Someone here is paying a lot of attention to me, it seems,” you hit him back. You prayed no one around noticed your interaction, because they would see clearly that there was something going on between you two.

“I wasn’t the one staring, was I?” he deadpanned. If any of you moved an inch, your noses would be touching, and probably much else would follow. Gathering all your strength, you pulled back.

“Fuck you,” you whispered before moving away.

“Already did,” he bit back a smile, walking past you towards Ibrahim to go and get changed. His own hip swaying left to right as he walked, the movement hypnotizing you as he went.

Soon enough, all models were positioned on stage, barely sporting any clothes bar some thin skin toned underwear, transparent fabrics or one single piece of garment. Jason, in all his glory and toned chest, wore a pair of white boxer underwear that left evident the not so little friend he owned down there.

One makeup artist had bathed his chest with some kind of oil, sliding her dark blue nails over his entire torso. In clear fuck boy behaviour, a shadow of a smile loomed his face when he looked at her through his lashes. You felt a muscle on your jaw jolting at the interaction, deciding that you’d had enough, and would be much better off attending to something else.

You tried the coffee table, but not even a sweet macchiato could clear your mind of the man you fucked and wished would desintegrate. Through the corner of your eye, you dared to steal one more look at him, only to find his eyes already set on you. Even from afar, you noticed them darkening, changing their essence to something that left you uneasy. In desperate need of air.

Truth be told, this man rented a four story penthouse with three hundred bedrooms in your mind since the night you’d slept over at his. Occupying a space that once was free to help you function properly, but now, you were a horny mess 90% of the day. Yes, you touched yourself to his picture lingering in your memory countless times since that day. And each one of them made you feel better than the other.

However, none of them had you feeling as good as he had made you feel that night. None of them had his touches to drive you wild, or gave you the feel of his tongue on your nipples. None of them whispered dirty things in your ear. But more specifically, none of them made you come as much as he did in just one night.

Shaking those thoughts away, you averted your eyes from his and sat down on a puffer chair, watching the photoshoot with an empty head. The group shot was done, as Stephanie, as you remembered, dismissed the other models to start on the individual shots. And to no surprise of yours, she had Jason shoot first.

He posed and flexed his muscles to her loud cheers and claps, letting out laughs and hypnotizing smiles you found yourself hooked to. Their partnership was evident, as Jason understood her words and requests promptly, and you had to admit she seemed to know just which angles and positions he’d look hotter.

Sandra and Ibra watched the little show just attentively as you did, but you were sure the thoughts in your head never crossed theirs. Giving short jumps, and faking boxing punches, he turned the playful shoot into something more intense. His eyes, eyebrows and his whole demeanor change drastically, to now exuberate this dense, dark, sensual, almost pornographic, aura.

He lowered the hem of his underwear a bit, showing you the trail that had driven you crazy the last time you peered at it. Now, it was on full display to you, and you had to bite down at your lip to hold in the moan you wanted to let out. He turned around, showing you his back, with his side profile setting up what you already thought would be the perfect picture. You wondered if any of your marks could be seen on his back, if Stephanie could see them from up close.

Your breathing hitched, and you had to cross your legs and feel just a bit of friction there to pull yourself back together.

The music in the studio shifted. The dark, sexy tunes of The Weeknd turned into the more upbeat pop rock sound of SZA’s F2F, a surprise to you, given the feel and themes of the photoshoot, but something that totally spoke to you in this moment of your life.

You couldn’t take him out of your mind, you thought of him until you fell asleep. You wondered if he planned on making Stephanie the girl for tonight. Or worse, if he’d already done it, done her. It had been a while since that night, he wouldn’t take that long to find someone else to fuck like he did to you. Fuck like he fucked you.

The thought made you feel nauseous.

Just as the next line began, the sudden realization of your feelings hit you like a train. The need to be slammed against a wall, picked up and fucked like you would never need your legs again, justified by the light blue shade indicating your ovulating period on your tracker app. That explained everything, you thought, finding the only possible way you could ever be this crazy about a man.

When Miss SZA said ‘Now I’m ovulating and I need rough -’, that was it. No truer words were ever spoken. Just his presence was enough to make your thoughts incoherent, but having him doing all those poses and stares was driving you insane. Oh, how it sucked to be a woman in heat!

You didn’t realize you bit your lips until the silvery taste of blood hit your tongue, and you averted your eyes from him to instead stare at your own nails. Afraid that if your eyes lingered on him for much longer, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself.

When Stephanie’s voice trapped your attention to something the distance didn’t let you decipher, you felt a tightness in your chest. A weird feeling of fear, anxiety and desire mix together, as Jason refocused his sight on you, walking slowly in your direction. His man tits bounced as he walked, perfectly muscled, and perfectly fit for the photoshoot.

Where were you with your head, you thought. There was no way Sandra would have ever listened to your nonsensical words, he was clearly perfect for that. His body was perfectly sculpted, as if he was handmade by Michelangelo himself, and perfectly decorated by his countless tattoos.

You assessed him. Up and down. Every inch, every single detail. Eyes lingering longer than you should, as he walked to you slowly. His eyes darker than you remembered, the bright blue turning deep. His body moved light, lighter than a feather it seemed, as if he glided instead of walk. Everything in him screamed godlike, and you licked your lips as your mouth seemed to dry. Still focused on you, he licked his own lip, making you feel…

Yn. What are you doing?

Breaking away from your thoughts, your eyes widened from the realization of what your mind was doing to you, rushing away from your. Out of the room, out of the building, out of here. You felt your heart race, speeding faster than a Formula 1 car. The air trapped in your lungs, making it harder to breath.

“Ouch,” you heard someone complain from behind you, as you closed the door without looking and sprinted towards one of the corridors. “Yn!” you heard his voice call, but you could not stop. Fuck, why is he here?

Taking a corner, you found a door leading to some outside area when Jason’s grip stopped you from taking any step further.

“What the fuck did I do to you?” he questioned bitterly. You had to roll your eyes at that. What haven’t you done?

You tried to remove yourself from his grip, but he was insistent. “What the fuck did you do to me?” you laughed sarcastically, finding amusement at his clueless question. “God you’re fucking infuriating.”

Turning around, you forced his hold off, but you were playing yourself if you ever thought you could fight him. You basically dragged him along, but in reality he didn’t move an inch. He was heavier and stronger than any weights you pulled at the gym.

“Oh, you leave my apartment like a mad woman. Did everything so you wouldn’t have to face me for weeks and tried to sabotage a job opportunity, and I am the one who’s infuriating?” he spat out. His face getting red from anger.

“Haha, you were not even supposed to be here!” you spat in return.

“Oh, so am I not supposed to support my little sister?” he inquired. You went quiet.

His sister. His fucking sister. How stupid were you. “You’re ruining my job,” you tried to find an argument. Something to fight him back.

“I saved your job right there!” His eyes grew large, burning into yours. He wasn’t wrong, but he also wasn’t particularly right.

“Let me go! You’re hurting me,” you nearly cried out, wanting to flee this situation desperately. He let you go, and in his eyes, for the brief moment you dared to look in them, you found a shadow of guilt.

With heavy footsteps, you made a beeline to the door, feeling the lump on your throat tightening.

“You can’t take that night off your head too, can you?” he voiced, and you had to stop. He was thinking of it too, all this time. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself down. Swans, rainbows, blue ice cream, new skin care products. Anything good thoughts to take him, this, out of your brain.

“You’ve been thinking of it all day. All night,” he continued, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You felt him behind you, a looming shadow above your small frame. “My lips on your neck. Your nipples,” he said, fingertips gracing your exposed arms. “My fingers inside you.”

Your eyes were closed. Picturing every scene, every word that left his mouth. He was right, you couldn’t shake him off your mind, but so couldn’t he. He was just as much stuck on it as you. You was just as much in his mind and he was in yours. Just as pathetic.

You felt his breath touch the skin on your neck, and his fingers pulling your hair out of your shoulders. “Me ripping you apart,” he whispered, voice carrying so much lust you had a hard time holding up.

You didn’t.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you noticed his heavy breathing. His oily chest rising and falling, almost touching your back. So close you felt the bulge in his underwear sliding against your bum. Beside you, you found a door.

Then, you made a promise. If the door was locked, you would leave him there, you would not look back. You’d forget everything and anything about Jason. However, if it was open…

It was. Opening into a small and empty room, you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. And then, looking at him from over your shoulder, you begged for confirmation. You begged him to say he felt it too. That he needed it too.

Bobbing his head to the side, he motioned towards the opened room, telling you to get in. You did.

As soon as Jason closed the door behind him, you pushed him against the wall, frantically searching for his lips and finding it in a desperate, needy kiss. You needed him, you were starving for him. You needed his lips, you needed the air in his lungs. His breath, his warmth, his hands all over your body. You needed every single piece of him he had to offer, because he’d been in your head all week long, making you mad, deconcentrated, a mess. And he needed to pay for all that.

Spinning you two around, Jason had you pinned against the wall. Your legs didn’t waste time before wrapping around his waist, and it took him no effort to find a place for his hands on your ass, holding you up and close. You kissed ferociously, hungrily. Your tongues battled each other, struggling for power. Your fingers at the nape of his neck tugged at the hairs and he moaned inside your lips. Just like the last time.

But unlike last time, you did not have time to waste.

Pulling his dick out of his underwear, you let your legs go from his waist to take off your jeans. “Someone is eager,” he joked.

“Shut up!” you snapped, bringing him back for another deep kiss. He stroked his penis and you could feel his hands moving close to your belly. Your naked ass hit the cold stone wall, and your body jolted a little. Pulling at your waist, Jason had you bent over a desk in no time.

He tickled your folds with his head, but your hands on his wrist told him you were not playing today. He slammed inside of you with no second thoughts, and you almost let out a scream if it wasn’t for his mouth slapping on your lips. You felt your insides burn, his girth ripping you open as he slammed his dick in and out of you with speed. His calloused hand smacked against the soft skin of your ass, letting out a loud sound around the room. You nearly cried, body shaking as the skin burned where he had hit.

The smell of sex filled the room, as the sound of him hammering against your juices echoed on the walls. Jason started grunting behind you, his throat releasing feral sounds that had you hitting your high in less than a minute. Not much later, you felt the warmth of Jason’s seed filling you up, and your mind freaked out for a brief moment before it was clouded again once he forcefully turned you around and tackled you in another kiss.

Sitting on the desk, you brought him closer by his penis, pulling it in yourself and starting to grind against his crotch. Jason let a laugh vibrate through your body, mouths still tangled together, holding tightly at your thighs and thrusting hard inside of you. He slid a hand inside your shirt, taking one of your breasts out of your bra and pressing it so hard a tear formed in your eye.

Whatever the hell you two were doing now felt incredible. Your mind was starting to go numb again, and the tightness you’d feel minutes earlier had already returned. You let out a few cries in Jason’s mouth, as his teeth picked at your bottom lip, making sure you’d leave here with them red and swollen.

He didn’t care if anyone notice you’d just fuck. He wanted to parade it around. The thought of everyone knowing he had you all fuck over in an empty room making his release shoot within you once again. However, he didn’t stop until he felt you wall clenching around him, milking all he had left as your own milk slid through your legs.

As you tried to steady your breath, Jason left pecks on your lips, cheeks, and eyes. God damn it, he loved your fucked out face, he loved you post sex glow. He loved…

You search for his lips. They were warm, and without them you felt cold. You felt him moving out of you, and the emptiness afterwards. He resumed his little pecks on your lips after he’d put his penis back inside his underwear, handing you yours to put back on. You took them, but instead of putting them on, let it hand over his shoulders and you pulled him into a deeper kiss.

This one, though, was passionate. Slow, careful. It made your stomach spin, and the butterflies get busy in your core. It was good, and you wanted to be in it forever. You wanted to…

No! A voice screamed in your head, and you pushed him away immediately. You do not have feelings for Jason. You do not.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jason asked, a hand on his lower lips taking you to the bite you’d just given it.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!” you screamed exasperated, putting your pants back on. “You are what’s wrong with me, Jason. You!”

“Me?! You’re the one who threw yourself on me,” he threw his hands up in defeat.

“After you kept putting things in my head…”

“Me? I keep… What the fuck do you have in that fucking head?” he cut you before losing his temper. You were truly something incredible.

“A brain. Something you lack, perhaps,” you replied harshly. “You keep making me do these stupid things.”

“I didn’t make you do anything, you know it well,” he stated, hands hanging on his hips, looking at you as if you'd just gone mad. Perhaps you really had. “Stop acting like an innocent little angel, because you’re nothing of it. Nothing!”

You let your mouth hang open, flabbergasted that he dared to say something like that. You know you were no angel, but he was completely missing the point. “That’s not it!”

“And what is it then?” he inquired, anger painting his face red once more.

“You’re just a fuck boy,” you screamed and he stopped in his tracks. “If you think I’d waste my fucking time in a lowlife like you, you’re just fucking wrong!” you spat out. The words had left your mouth before you could properly think of them, emotions taking over your thinking process. But they were out, and they hurt Jason more than he’d like to admit. It felt like something broke inside his chest, the shattered glass of what once was his heart.

“You’re the one who acts like a stupid spoiled bitch,” he returned, soon regretting it. Your eyes filled with water, and some tears fled without your consent. Those were the words that hurt you the most to hear. Not because they were new, but because you’d been told that countless times, to the point you actually believed it.

Opening the door with rage, you ran out of the room and stomped your way outside of the building. A single tear sliding down your face, the effort you put to keep the others in taking inimaginable strength.

When you got to the reception, the other assistant from earlier noticed you coming her way. “Yn,” she called worriedly.

“Tell Sandra I’m heading out. I’m feeling sick.”

The cold wind welcomed you outside, forgetting everything you’d left in the studio to head home. You wanted to fall to the ground, curl up in a ball and cry your eyes out. Never have you felt this upset and frustrated. And it wasn’t even Jason’s fault. So you arrived home, threw yourself on the sofa, and allowed the tears to fall.

A single tear fell from your eye as you stared blankly at your bathroom door. You were curled up on the floor, hugging your knees against your chest, waiting for those damned three minutes to be over.

You were late. Weeks late. And anxious thoughts were starting to take over. You would be fucked. Your parents would kill you. It would ruin everything. You were too young, and you were just starting your career. It just can’t be happening. There was no way you could do it on your own. That was not part of the plan.

The lump in your throat only got tighter. Counting the seconds desperately, you missed the count dozens of times, but you were sure the wait was now over.

Forcing yourself to stand up, you take slow steps to your sink. Getting the white and blue stick in your trembling hands, you couldn’t bring yourself to look. Too afraid of the reality it could bring you.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Red eyes, puffy cheeks. You don’t even remember brushing your hair today. Taking a deep, prolonged breath, you take a look down. The eight letters showing on screen scaring you shitless.

Pregnant.

Oh, fuck!

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astralflower-writes · 8 months

Text

just visiting

♡ pairing: alex karev x female! reader

♡ genre: angst to fluff

♡ warnings: small season 9 spoilers (plane crash) & family issues

♡ part two, part three, part four, special scenes

♡ check out my grey's anatomy masterlist here

going back to seattle will never be one of your plans. but, your mother had to pick seattle as one of the destinations for your so called family road trip.

to add more, you had to stay in town for a few days. it's not like you hate the city.

it's where you've met your soulmate. your person, alex.

but when you were on your last year residency, you had to leave. not only because of all the crisis that hit seattle grave mercy west that time, you were also offered a job at hopkins, your dream hospital. to start your fellowship.

fortunately, alex was also offered to start a fellowship there.

but, the plane crash happened.

he couldn't just leave the hospital. especially with what happened to arizona.

"you can't be for real y/n." he said following you onto your shared bedroom.

he proposed that morning and now, you're packing your stuff up.

"we said we'd stay!"

but, now you can't.

"is this about your family y/n? is that why you can't answer me? i swear if they're talking crap about me again i'll–"

"you want to know how they're treating me because of us?" stopping at by the doors.

"you know about this. alex i–"

"and yet you listen to them huh." scoffing at what you said.

"if you walk out of that door, we're done y/n."

after five years, you were back. you convinced yourself you were just visiting and checking the sights you never seen or had the chance to see when you were still living in the city.

you were on your hotel room when your four year old boy, lucas, who just came back from a walk with your parents suddenly threw up on the carpet.

"i don't feel good mama."

you called for an ambulance and of course it brought you to where you started your career as a doctor.

as your son was brought in the emergency room. one of your former colleague and a very close friend noticed you.

"y/n?"

"meredith!"

she walked towards you. "how are you? and you've got a kid!" she said hugging you.

"i'm fine, mer." you replied, hugging her back.

"are you staying long?"

"does alex—" she was interrupted when your son started to cry and vomit again.

you came back to his side and started to rub his back for comfort.

"no. he doesn't know i'm here." you replied shortly.

"just so you know he's the one on-call on peds today."

"and let's catch up after work." with that she hugged you again before going back to her patient.

while waiting for the doctor on-call to come down. you made the time to pray that it's arizona or another doctor will come down.

"where's the–" he stopped in the middle of the emergency room.

he certainly did not expect you to be somewhat in seattle. and of course, he did not expect for you to have a kid.

he saw the way you were talking to the child. promising something which made the kid smile. but shortly after, the kid reached for the basin and vomited again.

from that, he got out of his daze and walked towards the two of you.

"how are you feeling little champ?" he said standing on the bedside.

"i don't like it." he said turning himself towards you.

alex looked at you and asked you what happened. "he was fine before he went out with my parents. he said he ate something from the sea."

"from the sea huh." alex said examining your kid.

"i tried to ask which is it but he's really not in the mood to be specific." you said brushing his hair out of his face.

after alex looked at him more "he's already getting fluids and i already ordered some meds but i'd like to keep him overnight for observation."

you agreed. "y/n i–" he was interrupted when lucas started to call for you.

"i'll check up on him again later." he said before letting himself out of the emergency room.

after settling in and calling your parents. you had the chance to take a breather. walking in the halls with some of the staff recognizing you. you finally reached the cafeteria.

"can we talk?" alex's voice came from behind. you motioned for him to take the vacant seat in front of you.

"so...you've got a kid huh." he said starting the conversation.

"yeah. he's smart and funny..."

"i met him three years ago from a program we did back at boston. and instantly fell in love with him. can't believe that i'd be falling in love an infant though." both of you letting out a laugh.

"you know, i waited for you text or something." he spoke again.

"i waited over there too." you said smiling sadly at him.

"so you're the chief of peds surgery now huh." you said pointing at his coat. "yeah. robbins gave me the job, so she can do neonatal."

"are you staying?"

you stood up from the table before answering. "we're just visiting."

after that talk with alex, you went back to lucas' room. he's finally asleep after vomiting all afternoon.

"you can go back to the hotel and rest up." sitting at the end of the bed. "lucas' doctor, karev. isn't he that ex-boyfriend of yours?" your father asked as they were gathering their things.

"it's a good thing you listened to us cause you're doing way better than him, i mean have you seen him? hopkins is way better than this–"

"can we drop this conversation dad?" you said sighing as took as seat beside your child's bed.

"i'm just saying that you're doing way better than–" with your father not dropping the subject, it made you mad. all those years of torment of them hearing how great you are now just because you listened to them and left seattle.

"do you think i was fine after i left this hospital? i listened to everything the both of you said because i can't bear how you were treating me."

"the only good thing that happened to me over there is lucas! and don't think i didn't know what you said about me adopting him cause i–" you received a slap from your mother.

"how dare you speak to your father like that? we were only looking out for you and you adopting a kid you just saw at a program was–"

"out. i've heard enough." your mother protesting woke up lucas. "mama... where's grandma and grandpa going?"

"the-they're going home sweetie. we'll just visit them after we go home tomorrow okay?" rushing to his side so you could help him go back to sleep.

after your parents left, meredith was standing by the door. "are you okay? cause this is just my cup of tea y/n, i mean, mommy and daddy issues?"

laughing from what she said, you let her take a seat on the chair by bedside. "so you heard the whole thing."

"pretty much."

"well, hopkins was great. but you know, this place was my home, mer." sighing, and thinking that all of the things that happened today made you tired enough for days.

"i could hire you." she said nonchalantly. "are you serious?" you said in disbelief.

"you don't think i'm serious? i kinda own this place now."

"we could head down and sign the contract." looking at her, checking to see if she's really saying the truth.

"no. i–i can't." standing up and hushing your child as he started to turn again. "why? is it alex?"

"it's kinda stupid but yeah."

"what's stupid is the both of you are still in love with each other and you're not together."

"pretty sure he moved on mer. the minute i walked out on him. we were done." you said getting a cup of water and some apple slices which you presume was for your child.

"no. he still loves you."

"i left him after he proposed mer."

meredith stopped at what she was about, shocked at what she's hearing. "he proposed?"

"then i left him." you sternly added. "so that's why he always have this small box on his coat or pocket."

"what?"

"i think you weren't supposed to know that." she suddenly changed the topic about you and your program at hopkins and it turned to how you met your kid and how she loves her kids. just the both of you catching up.

the next day, meredith came back to check on the both of you for the third time. "are you sure you don't want to work back here, cause i told bailey and she's more than glad to have you back."

"mer–"

"we're moving here mama?" your kid said looking up from where he was playing with his toys.

"do you want to live here, sweetheart?" meredith asked him as she sat beside him.

"can we live near auntie mer?" lucas asked too excited. meredith looked at you with a smug grin on her face.

"bailey has an offer that tops hopkins." she said as she started to play with your kid again.

"fine. i'll talk to bailey, but i don't promise anything."

"i'll take it."

you didn't know how she convinced you to talk to bailey about your job here. but boy, meredith and bailey pulled out the big guns.

"look, i love the offer dr. bailey, but i just got here yesterday and–"

"we'll keep the position open for you dr. y/l/n, it would be really great to have you back with us." with that, you left the office wondering how you and lucas would be happier here.

to your surprise, alex was the one playing with your child.

"hey, where's aunt mer?" asking as you walked in. "she has a person to cure, mama." your kid said not looking up.

"you're mama's back now, champ. i'm going now." alex said as he ruffled lucas' hair. "don't go! i love playing with you!"

"baby i'm sure dr. alex has some patients to cure too." your kid started to have tears forming on his eyes, but he tried his best not to let one tear out.

"how about we, uhh--" you can't find a pretty good excuse for lucas to feel better.

"hey how about this. you and you're mom are going home in a few hours, right?" alex asked and he nodded. "you play with your mama first, and i'll come back after curing my patients?" lucas looked at you for a signal and you smiled at him which he took and nodded at alex. "you promise uncle alex?"

alex was quite taken aback by the way he called him. the whole time the both of you were around, he always called him by 'dr. alex'

"yeah. i'll be quick."

you mouthed thank you at alex and went to your kid's side, starting to play with him.

"ma?"

"yes?" the both of you are now eating your lunch, well you're doing most of the eating.

"auntie mer said uncle alex is special to you." almost choking at what he said, you tried to hide the coughing. "she told you that?"

sipping water trying to compose yourself. "h-he is, sweetheart."

#grey's anatomy imagines #grey's anatomy x reader #greys anatomy imagines #greys anatomy x reader #alex karev x reader #alex karev imagines #astralflower-writes

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verus-veritas · 9 months

Text

Out of the Woods

Another hot story by @bodyswapper that seemed to have been removed recently. Once again I couldn’t help myself and remade the story, with my own twists and ending! Also, featuring the incredibly hot “Seattle Dad”, which you should definitely check out!

My best friend Chris and his family were preparing for their two-weeks getaway at the lake cabin. His parents said that I would not be able to come so Chris and I were bummed. However, a day before the trip Chris came up with an idea to get me to tag along. When Chris presented me with using an ancient body swap spell he had stumbled upon I was skeptical at first, but I eventually decided to agree. I had secretly always found his father quite handsome, so if it actually worked it would be very interesting being in his Dad's burly mature body.

The day arrived, and Chris and his father headed out to the cabin first. I was so nervous and waited for the text for Chris to let me know he was going to use the spell. I got a notification from Chris and locked myself in my room to get ready. I was waiting for something to happen and instantly a surge of energy rippled me, and my soul jolted forward.

I finally snapped to and felt my body lurch upright while taking a lot of force to lift myself up. I was now inhabiting the body of Chris's handsome father. I locked eyes with Chris through my new deeper blue eyes.

"Whoa, this is insane," Chris exclaimed, staring at me, who now occupied his father's bigger, flabbier, and hairy body. "What's it like? How does it feel being in my dad's body?"

I was trying to find my bearings, and blinked a few times before responding. "It's...different, man" I paused, noticing the gravelyness of my voice. "This body feels more experienced, like it has seen a lot in life. And the hair? Well' I can feel the breeze on the stubble" I chuckled, rubbing my thick hands across my sweaty forehead.

We took a moment to absorb the nature of their situation before cracking open a few drinks and settling into the comforts of the lake cabin. The initial shock transformed into laughter and camaraderie as I began to relax in my new frame.

Hours passed, filled with laughter, shared stories, and the simple joy of being together. Chris kept commenting that my mannerisms became more similar to his fathers, and I was feeling it as well. It just felt so damn comfortable being in his father's body and leaning into that persona.

However, our enjoyment came to an abrupt halt when Chris's Dad's phone rang. We shared a scared glance, and I was feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. I picked up the phone, answering it in Chris's Dad's serious tone, and realized it was Chris's Mom, or rather my ex-wife. At that moment, I had to embody the role of Chris's father, pretending to be Chris's Dad. To my surprise, I found himself slipping into the role effortlessly, and putting on a show. I even began to feel the emotion of Chris's Dad as I talked and said I miss you to his little sisters, or my daughters. They lived with their mom, so the summer getaway was the only opportunity for us to meet, Chris had explained earlier.

I hung up the phone and had the largest smile on my face. I kept rubbing my beard, enjoying the scruffiness and coarseness of it. "I did it, man! I pulled it off! Your mom didn't suspect a thing. I never knew I had it in me."

Chris beamed back, impressed by my performance. "Who knew you were gonna be able to pull it off this well,” Chris chuckled. “It's like you've been my dad all along.” When he said that my cock grew firm, as I truly began to feel like I am his father. Now, I was getting excited for the rest of the family to come up and see how well I could keep up with the charade of being Chris's father.

I was also dying to find a time to sneak off to the bathroom to feel down my new larger flesh, but I didn't want to raise suspicion to Chris on what I was doing. I was gonna wait till we went to bed and then explore his Father's form a little more closely.

- Several Days Later -

It had been a few days since Chris used the spell to swap me into his Dad’s body. At first, it was really strange walking around in this much older, taller, and heavier body, but I quickly got the gist of it. Although I was still nervous when the rest of the family came and I had to pretend to be Chris’s father. There were some obvious fumbling and embarrassing moments at first, but by the end of the evening no one seemed to mind or took notice. It was almost like I had somehow gone a quick-course on how to truly embody his father. It certainly helped that Chris helped me out here and there, as he gave me small hints and showed me recordings of how his dad normally acted whenever we were alone.

I also noticed that every day that passed I seemed to lean more and more into the persona of Chris’s Dad. I even developed his gait, unconsciously let out his hearty chuckles, and found myself more interested in fishing. At some points even Chris seemed unable to differentiate me from his father, as evident by one morning when I sat in the kitchen drinking my morning coffee and reading the newspaper when Chris came down and started eating his breakfast completely ignoring me.

When I asked him what we were doing today, he answered me with the same snappy attitude he always gave his dad for annoying him. It took a few minutes of me staring at him amusingly before I saw the panic in his eyes as he realized what he had done. “Thank god it’s only a few more days…” He had quickly tried to recover himself, though I could tell there was some slight worry left in his voice.

It wasn’t until the first evening when everyone had gone to sleep in their separate bedrooms that I fully had a chance to explore my new self. I was so thankful that Chris’s parents had divorced a few years back and slept in separate rooms, which gave me the master bedroom all to myself.

It was strange… yet exhilarating as I stood in front of the full-body mirror and inspected the reflection of Chris’s Father.

I started exploring his weary yet handsome face, his thick beefy arms, and his hairy chest, as some quiet moans escaped my lips. I found myself running his big hands across the pelt on his chest, brushing past the bush on his cheeks, and ending my journey on the thin layer of hair on his head. The sight of Chris’s shirtless furry dad being so mesmerized by himself somehow made me incredibly hard, so I quickly unbuckled the belt and let the worn jeans slip onto the floor. I gasped out in delightful shock as the thick and massive cock bounced up and down, while a few drops of precum had already begun to leak out.

Something changed within me at that moment, something deep inside telling me this was all I ever wanted. I knew then - I was in love with this body, and the act of embodying Chris’s Father.

I didn’t sleep one second that night, as I found myself on the king-sized bed exploring, fondling, and worshiping the hairy, big body that belonged to Chris’s father. I had to sit out the hunting trip the morning after because of severe back pain, which was most likely caused by all the arching from the several orgasms I had during the night…

Every single night before sleep I would find myself standing in front of the bedroom mirror, slowly take off all my clothes, and stare excitedly at the burly dad bod. I would slowly caress the thick muscles, squeeze the fat around the stomach, and grip the hardened cock firmly. The jerking always began slow and passionately, but ended in a fierce frenzy of sweat, spit, and cum. Every single time was just as hot, different, and intoxicating. It was almost as if I was getting an addiction - of being Chris’s Dad.

One evening as I stood there in front of the mirror and breathed in a day’s worth of musk this body had produced, when a memory suddenly came to me, of a few words that Chris had said the first day I had swapped with his father: “It's like you've been my dad all along…”

Those words echoed within me, within my heart… and within my very soul. I began to imagine what my whole life would have been like if I was born in this body; the childhood I had, the friends I made, even the partners I went through. I then began to imagine what life would be like from now on if I somehow kept this body; the job I had to learn, the family I would have to love, and the wild nights I would experience. I don’t know what came over me at that point, as I leaned against the reflective surface of the mirror and gave my reflection a few kisses while staring intensely into the eyes of Chris’s naked drooling dad.

“What if I have been you all along… What if I was always meant to be you… What if being you for the rest of my life is all I ever wanted…” I murmured to myself in a low and husky voice, right before I exploded and coated the entire mirror with Chris’s Dad’s sticky semen. I quickly cleaned it up, with my tongue.

An opportunity came one day when Chris and most of the family had to go on a supply run. As soon as they were gone I made my way inside my friend’s messy room and began rummaging around. It took a few minutes before I managed to find the notebook which he had scribbled the ancient body swap spell in. It detailed a sacred ritual to be performed as well as an incantation of foreign language. I could only understand a bit of it, but from what I understood Chris’s Dad would think and act exactly as me during the swap, which relieved some of my worries over what I thought of doing next. At first I had thought of just ripping the page out and throwing it away, but that would make Chris suspicious. Instead, I took an eraser and erased three of the words off the incantation, before rewriting some similar-looking words in their stead. Chris was always impressed at how well I could copy his hand-writing. Of course, I also scribbled the correct words of the incantation down on another paper, just in case. As I left the notebook and Chris’s room in the exact state as when I came in, I was already leaking profusely in my pants.

With the two-week getaway soon coming to an end, Chris began discussing how he would swap me and his father back into our rightful bodies. He decided he would do it the night before they left, as his dad and I slept. Chris explained that the ancient body swap spell had to be performed correctly and precisely, as even the smallest error could ruin the process and cause unimaginable consequences. Such as us being stuck as bodiless spirits or me somehow being stuck as his Dad for good…

- THE Night -

It was a quarter before midnight on the night before we would leave. I had just taken a long hot shower and scrubbed my big hairy body clean from the filth of the day. Staring back at me in the bathroom mirror was the dripping wet reflection of Chris’s Father sensually running his hands through the pelt of fur on his chest. This was it, the moment of truth. I had to decide if I was really going through with this. I had no idea what would come, nor the consequences that would follow from messing with Chris’s spell. All I knew was that I wanted to stay this way; to keep this incredibly hairy and sexy body all to myself and to continue playing the role of Chris’s Father… possibly forever.

Determined, I picked up the piece of paper from the notebook a few days prior and scrunched it up into a ball. With a long deep breath I dropped it into the toilet and flushed it down. Its scribbled content and possibly my only way of returning back to my old life and body, forever gone.

Just as discussed with Chris earlier, I walked into the bedroom and laid my big heavy body down on the bed. I tried to close my eyes and fall asleep, but my mind was racing and my heart was pounding out of my hairy chest. I was anxious, scared, and excited, all at the same time, as I watched the bedroom clock strike midnight. At first nothing happened, so I gave off a breath of relief.

However, soon enough a strange sensation coursed through me. It was as if Chris’s Dad’s entire body began glowing and everything slowed down. My senses dulled, my limbs became numb, and I felt as if a big unending void opened up within me. An eerie blue-ish smoke began emerging from my hairy chest and rose up towards the roof. I simply watched on in both horror and fascination as the wispy smoke quickly shifted and transformed into the shape of my old self. As if carried away by some higher calling, the smoke phased through the roof and disappeared… leaving me laying there on the bed in complete bewilderment.

The void within me felt even larger now, as if my whole being was empty and without reason. My thoughts went to the smokey shape that had resembled my former self, but for some reason it felt bizarrely foreign, as if I no longer recognized it as my own. I tried to think of my own name, my old life, and my former body, but it all felt so distant. It was a feeling of grasping at something which no longer existed; a life and an identity no longer my own. Somehow the botched spell had drained me of my sense of self, but left my mind and consciousness still attached to Chris’s father’s burly body!

I barely had time to finish my thoughts when some red-ish smoke suddenly emerged from the roof. I immediately recognized the wispy form being in the shape of Chris’s Dad. His big hairy sleeping body with its bearded tranquil face slowly descending towards me, as if attracted to the flesh I currently inhabited. I could’ve tried to move out of the way, I could’ve resisted against it entering me… but instead I opened my arms and embraced it welcomingly. When the wisp of smoke finally entered me, yet another strange sensation washed over me. The void within me was suddenly filled and I felt warm and complete again. I felt as if I was home, as if everything was right in the world. The name of Chris’s Dad echoed within my mind repeatedly: “Hank Warrens… Hank Warrens… Hank Warrens…”. The name felt so suited for me, so comfortable, almost as if I had always been called by that name. I realized then that I had fully absorbed Chris’s father’s sense of self. His name, his identity, his whole being… now belonged to me whether I wanted it or not! No matter how you looked at it, I was truly Chris's Dad, Hank Warrens now!

The sound of rustling was heard from the master bedroom door, and as I peered over I briefly saw the shape of Chris running off. He had decided to check in on me to see if the spell had properly worked, to make sure that we had returned to our own bodies. Which meant Chris most likely witnessed the moment his dad’s smokey form reunited with its burly body, under the assumption that it was the reversal process of the body swap. As far as he would know, the spell went off without a hitch and his father was back in his rightful body. That I, Hank Warrens, was back in my rightful, big, hairy, and sexy dad body…

As soon as the sound of Chris’s footsteps in the hallway quieted down, I immediately looked down at the incredible body laid out in front of me.

The hairy chest, the thick muscles, and the girthy member, they were all mine now. To touch, to squeeze, to taste, whenever and wherever I desired. Not to mention that wonderfully musty scent that oozed from my hairy armpits from the bed underneath. All these sensations and sights felt so familiar to me now, as if they had been mine all along. “It’s really like I’ve been you all along, Hank…”

I have no idea what the future holds for me now as Chris’s father, nor how I’ll deal with the situation if I’m ever found out by others… but I’m beyond excited to be dealing with it as the incredibly hairy and thick daddy Hank Warrens.

Well, maybe not as excited as my incredibly girthy and rock-hard cock right now, which is desperately yearning for my firm touch. Let's just hope I won't be too tired for the car trip home tomorrow… otherwise I'll just have to stay another day here in the cabin with my son Chris…

#bodyswap #dad #thick #hairy #absorption #magic #identity theft #selflove #permanent

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oneshotnewbie · 23 days

Note

Andy Herrera x DeLuca! sister reader. Carina brings her sister to the firehouse and they both secretly fall for each other. Then one day Andy gets hurt on the job and after she is released from the hospital she goes and confesses her feelings to the reader. After secretly dating for about six months the two are caught kissing by both Maya and Carina who both freak out but are happy for the two. Fluffy please? With Maya and Carina teasing the two after they catch them together.

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐼'𝑚 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑! 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙, 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟! 𝐸𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑚𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 19 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐴𝑛𝑑𝑦 𝐻𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔! 🙈 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 (3400 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠) 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢💕

ᕚ---ᕘ

The excitement in the air was palpable as Carina Deluca drove side by side with you through the busy streets of Seattle. Your eyes reflected your longing to finally visit the fire station. Until now, however, your big sister's and her girlfriends hectic work schedule had always ruined your plans. But today was different. Today Carina would introduce you to a world that you had only heard about through the lively stories of her girlfriend Maya. The fascinating world of the brave firefighters from Station 19.

"Ci stiamo avvicinando, Bella. Sono così felice che tu possa finalmente incontrare tutti." (We're getting closer, Bella. I'm so happy you can finally meet everyone) Carina said with a bright look of anticipation and placed her hand reassuringly on your thigh. "I feel your excitement, y/n. Once you cross the station's threshold, you will be a part of them," she assured you with a warm smile.

The car stopped around the corner and you entered the fire station grounds shortly after. An atmosphere immediately surrounded you, permeated by hustle and courage. But at the same time, you could also feel an air of excitement and determination surrounding the people. It was like being immersed in a whirlwind of commitment and solidarity as the dull drone of work filled the air. Everyone who was here exuded an aura of determination, ready to face the challenges of the day. It was a place where every moment mattered, a place that embodied the essence of heroism and solidarity.

As you passed through the wide open gates of the guardhouse, you were greeted by a young woman who was bustling around the area with a radio in her hand. The sight of her was impressive - her face bore the marks of hard work, but her charisma was incomparable. It was Andy Herrera, the charismatic leader of Station 19. Her eyes were full of light as she kept an eye on the action on the premises. Every step she took seemed like an expression of leadership, and yet there was an aura of calm about her that immediately instilled confidence in everyone who met her. It was clear that she was a natural leader, ready to face any obstacle with unwavering courage.

"Carina! It's great to see you," Andy greeted her with a bright smile. Then her eyes fell on you lingered there for a slightly longer time. "And who do we have here?"

"This is my sister, y/n. She was invited by Maya to get an insight into what we do here," Carina explained proudly. Andy nodded friendly and held out her hand to you, which you accepted gratefully. "It's very nice to meet you, y/n. Welcome to Station 19," she said with a warmth in her voice that immediately put you at ease and made you feel like you were in exactly the right place.

Her charm had an irresistible attraction for you. You had never met anyone like her before - someone so confident and yet so caring. As you looked into her warm brown eyes, you felt something awaken within you that you had never felt before. It was as if her charisma ignited a hidden longing within you that had previously been lying dormant inside you, unnoticed. Every small gesture, every word of hers seemed to touch you and awaken your senses as you let yourself be captivated by her charisma. It was a moment of realization that this encounter with her was taking your life on an unforeseen but exciting new path.

While Carina and Andy were engaged in animated conversation, you felt enchanted. Your eyes couldn't leave the Spanish woman, and you were sure she noticed. But instead of feeling uncomfortable, you found comfort in the knowledge that Andy was just as attracted to you as you were to her. It was as if there was an invisible connection between you that was revealed in every look and every smile. The atmosphere around you seemed to change, and you felt a special energy building between you that fascinated and filled you at the same time. It was a moment of magic where the world around you seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the eyes of the mesmerizing woman in front of you.

When Carina finally suggested getting Maya to explore the fire station with her, the spanish woman immediately took the opportunity to get to know you better. "I'll be happy to walk you through everything we do here," she offered enthusiastically, taking a few steps forward to signal that you should follow her.

A wide smile crossed your lips as you decided to follow her. "That would be amazing. I'm really excited to find out more," you replied eagerly.

As you strolled through the fire station together, Carina couldn't help but smile as she searched for her girlfriend. She felt that this encounter with Andy had the potential to change your life forever. It was as if the threads of fate were weaving around you both, leading you down a path full of surprises and new experiences.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The days passed and you kept finding a reason to visit the fire station, supposedly to see your "sister". But deep in your heart you knew that your real reason was something else: you wanted to see Andy again, the fire lieutenant who made your heart beat faster.

Andy quickly noticed that you were showing up more often than would be typical for a normal visit for your sister. Still, she always greeted you with a bright smile and always found an excuse to spend time with you. And the more time you spent together, the stronger the hidden feelings that grew between you.

You found yourself around them more and more often, be it at lunch with the entire team or in discussions about operational plans. You enjoyed watching her lead her team, burning with compassion and passion for her work.

Andy also couldn't deny that she was attracted to you anymore. There was something about you - your liveliness, your enthusiasm for life - that she couldn't ignore. She increasingly found herself staring at you when you talked to Maya or helped Carina with the supplies, as if trying to capture every nuance of your being, and she longed for the moments when she could be alone with you.

But despite the growing attraction between you, neither of you dared to reveal your true feelings. She feared the possible consequences of a relationship between her and her best friend's sister in law. So she kept her feelings under wraps, even though she felt more alive than ever around you.

One day, when you visited the fire station again, you found a rare moment of privacy. Together you sat next to each other on a bench on the roof terrace, surrounded by the calming silence of the evening and the soft city lights glowing on the horizon.

“Y/n, there’s something I’ve wanted to share with you for a while,” she began hesitantly, weighing her words carefully. You looked at her intently, your heart starting to beat faster. Had Andy finally found the courage to reveal her feelings?

"I... I really appreciate our time together," she continued, her eyes searching yours. “You’re special, y/n, and I feel really lucky that you’re here.”

A hint of disappointment washed over you as you realized she wasn't saying what you had hoped. But at the same time, you also felt relieved that she valued your presence as much as you valued hers. "Thank you, Andy. That means a lot to me," you replied sincerely, a hesitant smile crossing your lips.

You sat next to each other in silence for a while, enveloped in the evening and the unsaid words between you. But despite the words that remained unspoken, you both knew that there was something special between you, something that you couldn't ignore even if you wanted to. The atmosphere was charged with a suppressed tension that your hearts felt even if your mouths didn't say it.

A blaring, loud siren from the reporting station suddenly pierced the silence, breaking you out of your quiet moment. Both were frightened and Andy jumped up as the shrill sound blared through the air. She quickly gave you a kiss on the cheek and in that gesture, she paused for a moment, shocked at her rash action. "I'm sorry... I have to go. I'll see you again soon, yeah?"

You nodded, feeling the heat in your blushing cheeks. You too were overwhelmed by the gesture, but you tried not to show your excitement. While she disappeared through the exit and you saw the fire trucks drive away shortly afterwards, you also made your way home, unaware that something unexpected would happen that you had never imagined.

While working in a burning building, Andy suddenly found herself in a dangerous situation. An unstable structure collapsed and falling debris struck her. The team was eventually able to rescue her and bring her outside, but it was obvious that she was injured and needed to be taken to the hospital.

Using blue lights and sirens, Andy was taken by Warren and Hughes to Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, where doctors did everything they could to carefully examine her and make sure she had not suffered any serious injuries. Hours passed like years as they waited for news of her condition.

Finally, as the sun rose over the horizon, the good news came: Andy only suffered a concussion and a few bruised ribs. But the thought of what might have been if the injuries had been more serious made her shudder. She suddenly understood the preciousness of life and how quickly it could be over.

When Andy was finally released from the hospital, she didn't hesitate for a moment. After everything that had happened, she was determined to stop hiding her feelings. She knew she had to tell you how much she loved you before it was too late.

She made her way to your apartment, ignoring the pounding in her head and the doctor's orders to rest. Your heart was pounding as you opened the door and saw the tired, vulnerable look in her eyes. A stab of pain shot through your chest. "Andy, I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I can't even imagine what it's like when you..." you started, your voice cracking with emotion, but Andy cut you off, her eyes wide open yours resting without once letting go. "Kiss Me."

You looked at her in surprise, your eyes widening in amazement. "What do you mean, Andy?" You asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Kiss me," she whispered again, biting her lip. The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment time seemed to stand still between the two of you. "I love you, y/n. But I don't know if you feel the same. So if you do, finally kiss me."

A smile slowly broke across your face and you took a step towards her until you were close to each other. You placed your hands gently on her cheeks, pulling her towards you before your lips met. You felt her shoulders relax and her tense posture lessen as she too gently placed her hands around your neck and gave in to the kiss.

"Y/n... I love you," she said quietly, her voice still shaking. "I wanted to tell you before, but I was afraid. I've felt it since the moment I first saw you. And after everything that's happened, I know I have to tell you. I love you."

„I love you too, Andy.“ You spoke and in that moment, surrounded by the first rays of sunshine and the aftermath of a life almost lost, you finally found each other. The world seemed to stand still as your hearts united and you knew that this love would conquer all.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Six months had passed since you and Andy revealed your feelings for each other. During this time, you had kept your relationship a secret from her colleagues at Station 19 and your sister, for fear of possible consequences and not to compromise the professionalism of Andy's work. But despite your efforts, you couldn't hide your love, and your secret meetings were a small comfort in the midst of the hectic everyday life with different work shifts.

Today you had returned from your home country of Italy after your family asked you for help, and Andy couldn't wait to hold you in her arms again. The longing for you had become so great that she could hardly stand counting the hours until she would see you again after you had disappeared for almost a week.

When you finally stepped through the guard gates, she felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over her, and her heart began to take a flight. She immediately rushed to you as you greeted the others and talked to Carina about the situation in your home country, her hand reaching for yours as if she would otherwise lose you.

“Y/n, I missed you so much,” Andy whispered quietly as she pulled you into a more private setting, leaning her forehead against yours as you held onto each other. “I missed you too, Andy,” you replied, your voice full of affection. "It feels like an eternity has passed since we last saw each other. Even though it was only a week."

You spent the whole day being with your family on Station 19, catching Andy's stares and big smiles as you constantly lost yourself in each other, satisfying your longing for closeness and touch as best you could while you moved carefully around her team. But the attraction between you was so strong that it became increasingly difficult for you to hide your feelings. Every glance, every accidental touch seemed to electrify the air around you, and you both knew it was only a matter of time before your love would come to light.

But after the lunch break, when you both sat next to each other at the table and had lunch with the team, Andy could hardly suppress her longing for you. She had to feel you, touch you, kiss you. A wild rush of excitement ran through her heart as she dragged you with her by your shirt while you helped Travis with the dishes.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, you fell into each other's arms, your lips pressed together in a desperate attempt to outsmart time and capture the moment. You were so engrossed in your passion that you didn't notice how the door slowly opened and two figures walked into the room.

Only when you heard the sound of a thick throat clearing did you break apart and turned around to see who had disturbed you. To your surprise, Maya and Carina stood in front of you, their faces a look of shock and surprise.

"What... what the fuck?" Maya stammered, her eyes wide but a mischievous grin gracing her lips. Carina was speechless, her hand pressed to her mouth as she took in the scene before her. "Andy, what are you doing with my sister?" She finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Andy and you looked at each other, your heartbeat raging in your ears. Both of you had no idea what to say, how to explain this unexpected revelation to your sister, and you recognized the panic welling up in your girlfriend. The situation suddenly became complicated and full of unpleasant surprises, and you had to decide how you would deal with it.

As your sister's words filled the room, the spanish woman felt a pang of fear in her heart. Andy knew that her relationship with you didn't live up to the expectations your sister might have had for you, but she had hoped that Carina would accept it. But when she saw her sister's angry look, she feared the worst.

“Y/n, cosa ne pensi?" (Y/n, what are you thinking?) Carina continued, her voice trembling with indignation. "Lei è molto più vecchia di te! Questo... non è giusto! (She's much older than you. That's... that's just not right)

You looked at your sister calmly, your eyes momentarily lowered to the blonde who was standing next to her, smiling and intertwining her fingers with the Italian woman's. "Carina, mi dispiace che tu abbia reagito così, ma amo Andy. E l'età non conta quando si tratta di amore.“ (Carina, I'm sorry you reacted like that, but I love Andy. And age doesn't matter when it comes to love)

Andy felt your support and warming hand on her shoulder, even if she didn't understand exactly what you were saying, and felt strengthened in that moment. She knew it would possibly be a long road for your sister to accept their relationship, but she was determined to fight for your love.

Before Carina could protest again, Maya suddenly laughed loudly, a sound that permeated the room and broke the tension. "Oh, Carina, what's so bad about it? The most important thing is that they're both happy," Maya said between fits of laughter and received a silent glare from Carina who kept her arms crossed under her chest.

The brunette looked at her girlfriend, but then she noticed the look of calm on Maya's face and her words slowly sank in. Maybe she was right and it didn't matter what age difference you had as long as you were happy and Andy didn't hurt you in any kind of way.

Carina slowly let go of her anger and a smile spread across her face. "You're right, Maya. I should be happy that my sister found someone she loves so much. I'm just... surprised, that's all."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. You had feared that your relationship with Andy would cause a fight between you, but now that Carina gave her consent, she could finally breathe a sigh of relief. It was a moment of reconciliation and understanding that strengthened your bond as sisters.

“Thank you, Carina,” you said quietly, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as your eyes shone with gratitude. "This really means a lot to me."

Carina nodded and held out her arms, which you sank into after you pulled away from Andy and hugged your sister tightly. "I love you, y/n. And I'm glad you're happy. Ma se Andy ti fa del male, la ucciderò.“ (But if Andy hurts you, I'll kill her)

A giggle escaped you and the atmosphere in the room changed. From tension and conflict to love and acceptance. But then, out of nowhere, as the four of you walked out of the locker room together, the blonde started laughing again, and Carina joined her in putting her arm around her shoulders.

"Oh, you two lovebirds! I can't believe we caught you making out!" Maya teased, tears of mirth in her eyes. "I feel like I've been blown back in time. It's like high school."

Carina joined in, and together they began to tease Andy and you, their words full of warmth and joy. And as you both rolled your eyes together and smiled at each other, your hands clasped tightly together, you knew that you would be paying for hiding your relationship from your sister and Andy's best friend for a very long time. But in that moment, everything was forgotten except the love that radiated between you.

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