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#and it's still only like an hour after so whatever :D
moondirti · 1 day
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Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!
My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.
Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?
What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?
Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.
Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?
Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!
shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev
cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.
Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.
Or even understand, really.
Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...
You don't mind it.
But you still don't like him.
It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.
That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.
Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.
You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–
The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.
But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.
Things only get worse from there.
"An' where d'you think you're going?"
You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.
If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.
"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.
But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.
And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.
"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."
He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.
"Where are you going with this?"
Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.
"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"
"N-No–"
"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"
"Yes. Yes but–"
"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."
Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.
Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.
That cruel fuck.
"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."
Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.
As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.
"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."
"Si–"
He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.
"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."
You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.
"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."
You make it one block before hightailing back home.
Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.
You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.
But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.
You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.
Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.
Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.
Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.
"Miss me 'lready?"
A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.
The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.
Good dick be damned.
But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.
Account does not exist.
Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.
So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.
It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–
Account does not exist.
Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.
Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.
And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.
It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.
"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."
"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.
"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"
You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.
The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.
And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.
You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.
Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.
Just as Simon barges into your room.
You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.
But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.
"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.
Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.
(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)
That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.
You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.
"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."
"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.
He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.
If anything, he's the stray.
"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."
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Okay!! So that was Abbott Elementary Season 3 Episodes 1 and 2!! Honestly a great premiere :D
This is just gonna be a little review and summary, not too long but with plenty of me freaking out :).
First of all: AAAAHHHHHHHH GREGORY AND JANINE YOU IDIOTSSS-
As someone who also has trouble trusting the district I feel for Barbara, and I'm kind of hesitant about Janine's switch/internship xd. I would not be surprised if they offer her a full time job and she has to choose (though obviously she'd choose teaching. She better anyway xD). But I am really glad she's making a difference :)! Honestly, everything changes when you have admin or district on your side. Also, she's definitely gonna struggle to adjust and get everything when she gets back xd, and even some before then, but I think she'll start getting close with people again :).
WHOOO MELISSA AND GARY ARE BROKEN UP!! I will say that even if I want someone who's more aligned with what she wants, I do feel bad because I just want her to be happy x'd. He really should've gotten that it was a never thing though - like, dude, she told you lol. I'm glad she was firm about it though - it was totally in character and even though it's not a surprise for her it's surprising to see on TV, and I'm really proud of her :') <3. I hope they both find someone for them, because he's sweet :').
Also the cameos were ICONIC as always lol xD. Idk who they are but you can just Feel a cameo's importance lol. Also I'm loving the addition of the school district people's they have a cool vibe against the teachers and such (Ava, Mr. Johnson, yk). Not antagonistic, just kind of contrasting. Also I love that they didn't question the camera people at all lol. I know they know it's happening, but they questioned nothing, and we love that xD.
Also we didn't see much of Jacob but I love him <3. Jsyk.
Mr. Johnson was ICONIC as always, we love to see it xD. Him telling about his life is always amazing lol, and we (they, we only got some) got the whole story this time xD. Slay.
Them getting Ava back was the funniest thing xD. I feel bad Gregory had to, I guess flaunt himself, but I think it'll still be less from Ava in the future. Also the song getting Ava back was absolutely iconic xD. On a more serious and narrative note, I like how it was already setting up Janine's rift with this storyline. She knew the answer the whole time even, but she wasn't there a part of it really at all. She wasn't even there for the victorious final moment :'/ xd. Which works, and it makes sense, but it still sucks lol xd. Anyway, it's gonna hurt as a storyline overall, but they're doing a really great job with it! Especially the fact that they don't dislike her for her decision, they're just distant. They rarely see each other (expect maybe Jacob and Janine - which by the way I needed more bestieism for them but I'm glad we got some xD), just like with her kids. Also her kids just sitting there kinda down and not caring/noticing that she's there is heartbreaking 😭. I know the feeling of losing your teacher at the beginning of the year and having them gone for half of it, if in a different way, and it really just sucks. Even though I was older than in second grade for that lol.
Also relating to Gregory and Janine: I am glad he respected her space, and continued to, but I think it's also kind of because he's avoiding the situation. It's awkward and it sucks and when that's how it is maybe you don't wanna reach out anyway, even if you miss them. I don't know. But they are idiots, and I do love them 😭 xD ❤️🥰. My idiots <3. I'm sure everything will work out in the end :).
Also Barbara with the makeup - you know what, good for her :D. Slay girlie, I'm happy you're happy :))! I'm also happy she's happy with her daily self though lol. Also the cosmetologist was really chill and I'm glad she wasn't mean :D.
I think it was a really good decision to make this an hour long episode. To catch up with what we've missed due to the delayed start and the in universe delay. Which, by the way, the reason in universe for the delay being that the camera crew got robbed is ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS to me xDD. Iconic lol. Poor them though xdd. Anyway, having a bit of a preview of it all, shaking it up, and then showing us what actually happened instead of just dropping us in the middle of nowhere was really nice. I think it would be cool to see some more flashbacks throughout the season (not whole or half episodes again, just bits and pieces - maybe just cutaways), but who knows if we will lol. Anyway, having plenty of time to be in the past, get things sorted but still have their own storylines, and then jump back into the present without a week long break was really nice :D. Gave us some familiarity, some different stuff, and was a large amount of content for a big draw for getting people back into the show after a long break :). Really good! I think they made the best decision they good with the layout like this and I'm so excited to see the rest of the season :D 🥰🥰!!
Turns out I did have plenty to say, lol xD. As I kind of suspected. But yeah!! I really liked the premiere and I think that everybody got some good focus, even if others got the main amount. Abbott's really good about that :). The show, I mean, lol. Anyway!
AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! I LOVE THIS SHOW SO FREAKING MUCH AND I'M SO GLAD IT'S BACK!!!
It's just so nice to see this amazing show that's mostly positive and uplifting but still funny and just relax for a while :'D. Also I love all my babeys (the characters) so much and I'm so glad to have them back :')) ❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰😭❤️🥰.
I absolutely LOVED the premiere. I'm so excited for the next episode and the rest of the season :DD!!!
Bye guys, love you all 🥰🥰!
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e-adlirez · 1 month
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Treasure Seekers 2 go brrrrr
So this sequel... exists :D
Welcome to the second entry in the Treasure Seekers trilogy that I'm gonna ramble about for the next six hours (in me time, in you time it's probably gonna be like thirty minutes or less), if you wanna read it yourself before reading this ramble, here's an Archive copy. Otherwise, enjoy the ride :D
So our story begins with the Thea Sisters locked in a basement in the dark, with Russia's penchant for matches (and the basement's lack of a smoke alarm) coming in clutch. Seems like another vacation's gone awry for them :3 How could it have possibly turned out this way?
Flashback: so the girls are vibing in Moscow, visiting all the cool sights and all that, Pam is wanting to try some Russian cuisine, when they spot this girl that's wearing what appears to be a barrette that used to belong to Aurora's sister Hannah Lane. They follow her a bit, find a THUG JUMPSCARE, follow the girl, Cassidy and co into the building they're heading into, and oh dear door with passcode is in the way. They find this dood Sergei, explain to him the situation, deal with him being like "who is u, and wth are you on about mate" until they hear a scream and oh dear turns out that girl with the barrette is Sergei's sister Irina and she's in trouble.
Sergei opens the door, they go in, walk in on Cassidy, Stan and Max (who I will from now call SM for simplicity) doing their whole thug jumpscare thing and kidnapping Irina in 4K. SM somehow rolls a high enough strength roll (or the girls roll a low enough initiative) that two roughly intimidating guys successfully trap six people into a basement without breaking a sweat get yourself some self-defense classes girls oml, and that's the end of that.
Luke's up to his shenanigans again, and it seems that he's targeted Irina Lenenko for the same reason the girls double-taked at the sight of her barrette: Irina (and Sergei in conjunction) is a descendant of Hannah Lane, and Hannah Lane may or may not have known a thing or two about one of the seven treasures. It's such a shame tho that Irina doesn't wanna spill any of the tea. What's this about a "queen's jewel"?
Oh also Luke has Aurora's third diary. I would like you to pay attention to this detail in particular. Oh and he's keeping Irina ratgrabbed until she tells them what he wants to know from her. Oh naur
Meanwhile the girls infodump all of the TS 1 LANE LOORRREEEE to Sergei in one whole sitting and finally manage to get around to "what the hell does this have to do with my sister". Sergei thinks it's not really possible for Irina to know anything about great-grandma Hannah's involvement with Aurora, but Irina's still in trouble soooo time to solve this nerdy-ass science trivia keypad puzzle to get outa the basement. Irina's nowhere to be found in the lab itself, so they regroup at Sergei's place to use his phone tracker app on his computer.
Bad news, SM dumped Irina's phone somewhere in the lab so the tracker app is useless; good news, while looking for some Lane Lore™ to get some context about the situation, the girls find some Lane Lore™ :D
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Turns out Aurora was looking for one of the seven treasures again, y'know just updating her sister on that, who'd moved to Saint Petersburg with her husband Ivan.
Seems like Aurora's quest at the time involved "the queen's jewel", which Aurora said she was 1000% down to ramble about to Hannah, maybe when she's done finding all seven treasures and hiding them from Jan.
I would like to take this moment to remind you that Aurora is a British Amelia Earhart, and if you dunno what that means, look up what Earhart was famous for and then look at this with that given context :']
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With that lead, the girls plus Sergei take a ride on presumably the Krasnaya Strela night train to Saint Petersburg, read some Lane Lore on the way, Peter-Griffin upon realizing that they spent the whole night reading AO3 fanfics Aurora's diaries and it's like 2AM now, land in Saint Petersburg, stop by Nevsky Prospekt Street to have some breakfast (I think they went to Venezia?), and discussion.
(For the rest of this review, please assume when I say "the girls", I'm including Sergei because Sergei tags along with them and helps them out in their entire journey. It's okay, Sergei may be biologically male but he is an honorary female in our hearts /j)
Aurora mentioned the queen's jewel in her diary, and when you're in Russia, the first queen that comes to mind is Catherine II, so maybe something relating to her? Some Lane Lore of Aurora taking interest in Catherine II's Amber Room in her palace specifically confirms their theories, sooooooooo it's time to go to the Amber Room to see if Aurora left any clu--
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The girls are about to walk out of the Catherine Palace to Peter Griffin in private when SM JUMPSCARE--
So SM is stalkin' around the Catherine Palace looking for something, so the girls stalk them back and follow them out of the palace, into a car (the girls called a separate taxi to follow them), and to a little gray building in the outskirts of the city. They don't follow SM into the building because it might be dangerous, but Irina's scarf lying around near the premises confirms that Irina was in fact there and possibly being held hostage in the building.
The girls do a little tactic I like to call "the Ding Dong Ditch": Pam and Nicky knock on the door, SM answers it, do a little Metal Gear exclamation point "HOW DID YOU GET HERE", Nicky and Pam book it so SM chases them, and that's literally how the other girls plus Sergei sneak into the building to get Irina out. (You dunno how badly I wanted to make a videogame reference for this but I couldn't find anything so here we are--)
With that, the girls plus the Lenenko siblings book it outa there without SM being none the wiser (seriously it doesn't even cross their mind that there are more than two Thea Sisters, that's how dum they are). Irina books a hotel room at a friend's place and gives them some extra Lane Lore that she never told Klawitz despite the interrogations:
Hannah Lane was once visited by Aurora unexpectedly, a little after Hannah and her husband moved to a house near the Ob River, in Siberia. Possible lead :3c? The girls think maybe, so they decide to head on over to the exact address in Novosibirsk, Siberia.
In Siberia, the girls cross the frozen Ob River in Novosibirsk to this abandoned little house, where they find this little note with a riddle that talks about Cleopatra and an emerald she had at one point, and CASSIDY JUMPSCARE--
Cassidy busts in, snatches the note and books it away on her snowmobile before the girls can even react. You may be wondering, how the hell did Cassidy get there and know where they were? The answer is the same as the reason behind the SM jumpscares in Russia and in book 1, and that is Luke.
Luke Von Klawitz is doing a little segment that I like to call: Luke Touch Grass, where it becomes increasingly clear that Luke's spent way too much time on 4Chan (/j but you'll see what I mean). Luke hears about SM's failure and facepalms. Then he calls his friend Petrovski, who has access to the database of all of Russia's airports, for help tracking down "six mice leaving Saint Petersburg". Petrovski gives him results in minutes: the girls and Sergei are leaving Saint Petersburg and heading for Novosibirsk, Siberia (most likely Tolmachevo Airport). With that intel, Klawitz looks into his own database of Aurora Beatrix Lane, finds a picture of Hannah and Aurora together, and uses his own version of Google Lens to figure out the exact coordinates where the picture was taken, which happens to be in Novosibirsk, Siberia.
No this man does not in fact canonically touch grass on the regular, who's asking
Anyway so he sent Cassidy the coords, instructions and Aurora's diary to go, and that's how Cassidy walked in on the girls in that little abandoned hut next to Ob River. Only thing is uh, she dropped her purse on the way out. A purse that just so happened to contain Aurora's diary that Luke gave her.
So the girls scoop that puppy up and assume that the treasure is Cleopatra's emerald, thus they think it's in Egypt.
So the girls go to Egypt :D (29 and a half hour flight there good god no wonder they conked out in the plane--)
The girls read some Lane Lore, something about Aurora finding the treasure and hiding it somewhere in a desert, in an "expanse pure and white" that a star compass will lead to. First thing the girls think of at the desert bit is the White Desert (Sahara el Beyda), specifically a spot near Cleopatra's pool, so they leave the airport (not realizing Cassidy is following them now) and head over to a market to buy some supplies because might I remind you, they initially went to Moscow, Russia for vacation.
While in the market, Pam meets a guy named Omar. Pam tells him a little bit about them going to Cleopatra's pool in Sahara el Beyda, and she finds out that Omar just so happens to be an Archaeology major in Oxford University who's here on his summer vacation and works as a guide for Sahara el Beyda, and is more than down to give the girls a tour. Talk about lucky :D
The next day the girls take the scenic route and after a while make it to Siwa, where Omar books a room in a hotel for them, and the girls find this interesting myth there about Cleopatra that I will summarize here:
Cleopatra was once given a jewel that maxes out the owner's rizz and the effect is supposedly indefinite. Cleopatra liked the jewel so much that she wore it on her crown at all times... until she grew a bit self-conscious about the gem's maxxed rizz effect and how everyone kept eyeing the emerald a second too long for comfort, so she decided to hide away said rizz in a spot where none of her rivals could get to it. Oh and uh Cleopatra wrote up a dedication to Ra that's hella cryptic too.
One long rest later, the girls go to Cleopatra's pool on a donkey cart. Yes, a donkey cart. It was Omar's idea. Speaking of Omar, prepare yourself buddy because the girls have dubiously decided to give you some Lane Lore to chew on. O-oh you like it a lot. A lot a lot. Well okay cool, maybe you can help out, cool.
The girls manage to figure out the riddle in Cleopatra's dedication, find a little stone coffer that has the queen's treasure and-- SM JUMPSCARE
With a donkey as the girls' only escape method and Omar having suddenly disappeared, a scuffle ensues where the girls play hot potato with the box until SM gets their hands on it and opens it, and here we get a very accurate depiction of what SM and the girls found in the box once it was actually opened.
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Description: a hand made of salt shaped in an upside-down "ok" symbol, circa 1920s-30s.
The sheer whiplash of this leaves both sides of the conflict losing enough HP that they're all on red-- SM is blaming the girls for this (how dare >:[) and dip. Omar is gone, and all the girls get as compensation is the empty box and a letter from Aurora telling them that they'll know to read the hidden clues. The girls head back feeling very hollow and dead inside, and this is the one time one of the girls questions how the hell did SM know they were at Siwa. I mean they never get any answer to this (kinda), but it is a milestone! They're aware of it now!
Once they get back to Cairo, they ask around and find that Omar's completely up and vanished, and they decide they'll just head back to Moscow since their investigation has come to a dead end. On the way, Pam comments about the falafel she bought being hella salty, which leads Violet to an epiphany that hey, the Sahara isn't the only desert that exists, let alone the only desert known for how white it is (like how Boracay Beach is known for how white and fine its sand is, but it's not the only white sand beach that exists). A quick Google search (and a long flight (35 HOURS CAIRO TO SUCRE???)) leads them to the Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia.
Nicky reserves a room for them at Hotel Luna Salada (a real place you can book a stay at actually :D), and they make a friend by the name of Adriana, a local waitress in the hotel restaurant. Adriana helps them pick out a dessert, fills them in on some stuff about the Salar since the girls came here 100% out of impulse, and talks about possible itinerary locations to go to, like the Isla de Pescado, Tiwanaku (the "Gate of the Sun"), Lake Titiaca, and Laguna Colorada. Y'know, typical tourist stuff, and Adriana was so kind to show them pictures she took when she visited said places herself! :D
Anyway so while the girls long rest, Luke is mulling about in his base waiting for updates. Someone calls him about the whole Egypt thing, and Luke calls the girls incompetent? Rude, oh and something about the caller being Luke's "secret weapon". Cassidy calls him on a theory she has about the gemstone being in Cleopatra's palace, and since the girls are currently long-resting (which means they aren't doing anything), Luke figures that a little diving trip in Alexandria to search for the gem with Cassidy won't hurt. Besides, he still has his secret weapon.
Oh yeah and he knows the girls are long resting because he has a drone in Bolivia spying on them and showing him their every move. Touch grass, Luke. No, going on a diving trip in Alexandria doesn't count, there's barely any grass there /j
Morning comes in Bolivia, and the girls head out early to search the Salar as much as they can. They look around the flat white desert, eat some late breakfast, toy around with forced perspective camera shenanigans for a bit, and read up on some LANE LOOORREEEEE
So Aurora's been to Pumapunku and Tiwanaku which is cool, she paid a visit to the archaeological site probably and that's really cool. She says something about hiding the queen's treasure in a fish's stomach covered in very fine thorns. Sergei ends up having an epiphany, and that leads the girls to Isla de Pescado, which just so happens to be "Fish Island" in Spanish, and has cacti on it, it's all coming together :D
Oh and the fish drawing Aurora made is coords to the treasure seemingly so that's cool-- OMAR JUMPSCARE
The girls are very surprised to find Omar joining them, and Omar explains that he booked it when SM came over and lost his cellphone as a result. However, he managed to figure out that Aurora's riddle was about salt and not sand, and decided to head on over to Bolivia since he assumed that's where the girls are going. How did he find them? It was just out of pure coincidence, and also the fact that the girls are extremely recognizable. Hm.
Anyway, Paulina plugs the coordinates into her GPS and leads the girls plus Omar to a little cave at the bottom of a little embankment. The girls find that, lo and behold, there's an old tin box containing a bright green emerald!
Meanwhile Luke is not finding anything in Alexandria haha L, LVK L get dunked on Luke, Cassidy girlie that's not a man to simp for find someone else gurl-- oh dear Luke is alerted that the treasure has been found and now he's planning on heading over to Bolivia? Now how could he possibly know that?
In the meantime, I dunno what's up in the air or if it's the Archaeology major speaking in him but Omar's really invested in this treasure, even more so than the girls to the degree that the girls are a little freaked out by it-- RHEA JUMPSCARE-- Paulina calms the big bord down and gets it to not trample Omar please, he's still a friend of theirs. Colette picks up this blue notebook Omar seems to have dropped.
The girls plus Omar head back to the SUVs, and Omar is really trying to persuade the girls that he should bring it back to Cairo. The girls are not jazzed at the idea because Omar bringing it back alone will be too unsafe, y'know with Luke and Cassidy and SM and all. They gotta think about this rationally-- WHOA OKAY OMAR calm your man tits buddy why are you demanding they trust you like you automatically deserve your trust-- ohh that's how Klawitz has known about the girls' whereabouts, Omar was working as a double agent.
So yeah Omar snatches the box from Colette and drives off in his SUV, leaving the girls in the dust. The girls freak out and are feeling that EMOTIONAL DAMAGE, but Colette for some reason is very calm about Omar booking it with the emerald. And that's because SHE HAS IT :D she did a lil' switcheroo so now the emerald's with her while the box is with Omar.
For context about how Colette knew about this, remember the blue notebook Omar dropped? Yeah that notebook was a company LVK notebook, straight from Luke himself. Then after Colette saw it, everything about Omar became incredibly sus, so she performed this precautionary measure.
So now the girls talk to the local authorities about how the whole thing with the emerald is gonna go down, and soon the girls are waiting for a plane back to Moscow.
As for Omar, well, he goes over to Luke's super-fancy hotel in La Paz, Bolivia, and he hands the box to Luke, explicitly stating that he decided he'd let Luke open it before he himself can appreciate it.
Luke opens the box, and here we see an accurate depiction of what Luke sees.
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Description: an upside-down "ok" symbol drawn in strawberry pink lip balm, signed Colette [insert last name], circa 2018.
Luke punts the box (prolly with the lip balm still inside it) into the swimming pool, tells Omar to get out, and that's the end of that. Haha Omar L Luke L
The girls head back to Moscow to drop Sergei off when SURPRISE PARTY BY IRINA'S SQUAD :DDD
Then the girls are about to return to Whale Island to presumably Peter Griffin in their dorms, when Colette suggests they make a journal a la Aurora Beatrix Lane, and they do. In a pink notebook because it was Colette's idea so we might as well give her that
And they take a black-and-white group picture of them wearing adventurer clothes like Aurora would've done. The brainrot is real, these girls are mentally ill /j
And that's the book :D
... Honestly it's the most meh out of the trilogy besides the big-brain bits in the middle and the end imo
The writing was so much more stilted in this one, even for Scholastic standards, and everything feels pretty..... kid's book. Even more so than the usual in the book's English translations. I do readings for the books in some of my Discords, and this book did not read well at aaallll. And I haven't even mentioned the typos in the book (they're not a lot, but they exist, and they're kinda egregious :D) and some grammar errors if I'm remembering things correctly. It might just be a translation thing-- I worry a bit for the translator who had to put this together.
Luke's character here is also kinda wonk? For one we see him directly contradict his anti-friendship spiel in TS 1 since he literally greets Petrovski like a friend (maybe it's a "friendship doesn't exist except in 4Chan" thing, I dunno). Then in the middle of the book, he gets... very Disney villain-y. The most egregious example here is the chapter "Lurking in the Shadows", where as you can see
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I am confusion?? Luke has been described as a to-the-point brat who hardly cares for the means to his end (unless it will impact his ability to achieve the end) and is so fixated on his goal that he doesn't touch grass. Is this not-touching-grass behavior? Yeah, definitely, but this??? This is too Disney villain???? Why does the man break into an evil cackle in front of Cassidy???? I understood it in book 1 because man thinks he's doing a "You may think you have outsmarted me but I have OUTSMARTED YOUR OUTSMARTING", but this one?? Maybe it's my personal taste, but it's too cartoonish and too... deviated from what we know of him up to this point.
ALSO TWIRLING HIS MUSTACHE? WHAT MUSTACHE IS HE TWIRLING THAT THING IS NOT TWIRL-ABLE
Also time to address the one big plot hole in this book: Aurora's diary.
So in this book there's only one diary, which is infinitely simpler than the two we got in the first book. This diary supposedly contains Aurora's records of her mission in hiding Cleopatra's Rizzmerald, and the details are supposedly vague enough that Luke felt the need to kidnap and interrogate Irina, a Hannah Lane descendant, to fill in the blanks. However, when you look at the contents of the diary itself (which lord knows how many times Luke himself has looked through it), there's hardly any blanks that need to be filled, at least if you're Luke.
The diary itself is mostly in the background-- like I said, not as much Lane Lore here as the previous book, the girls mostly rely on Aurora's letters to Hannah here-- but there's one specific entry the girls read in the latter half of the book that explicitly mentions Pumapunku and Tiwanaku, and how Aurora is there for her mission to hide the emerald. Complete with coordinates hidden in a little drawing! My one question I have for Luke is, why didn't he go straight to Bolivia and started searching there? Why did he go through all the effort of kidnapping Irina, tailing the girls around Sahara el Beyda, letting SM fall for the salt replica gambit, left his base to touch grass and go on a dive with Cassidy in Egypt; all if he could've just gone straight to Bolivia to look for the treasure there? Sure, Aurora did a good job hiding the coordinates in the fish doodle, but someone as observant and as obsessed about the outcome instead of the journey like Luke would rather have sidestepped all the Aurora shenanigans and beelined straight to the goal if he was able to.
Luke hardly has an excuse here because he owned the diary at the start of the book, and most definitely read through it many times (and we know he's the type to do this, see TS 1). The plot hole is plot hole-ing, it seems :/
Maybe it was just an excuse for the girls to get a giant glowing arrow pointing in the direction of the treasure? It certainly feels like it.
Anyway, the things that carry this book and made it memorable when I first read it (and allowed me to ignore the iffy bits) are the gottems and Omar as a character. Aurora setting up a salt replica of the Rizzmerald as a gottem in a time capsule, only to be opened almost a hundred years later to still be as potent as intended when it was made so long ago? That is amazing, like c'mon, pure comedy material.
Even funnier is Colette doing the exact same thing, only with her lip balm. Luke is quaking in his bougie-ass leather boots.
Now for Omar. This may be a hot take of mine here, but Omar's sus-ness is actually at a decent level compared to the girls and what they usually deal with. On one hand, Omar is incredibly suspicious with how incredibly lucky the girls are to find an Archaeology Oxford major working as a Sahara el Beyda tour guide; but on the other hand, the girls had almost the exact same situation with Diego in Mexico (I didn't mention him in the first review, but he came in clutch in TS 1).
The girls met Diego in Merida, Mexico, and he helped them with their research into "the invisible place", which happened to be Uxmal, along the Puuc Route. Diego also just so happened to be a tour-guide-in-training for the Puuc Route, which was the place the girls just so happened to need to go to find Aurora's second journal.
In comparison, the girls meet Omar in Khan El-Khalili while they were looking for supplies for their trip to the Siwa Oasis. It comes up in conversation that the girls are headed to Siwa, and Omar just so happened to be a tour guide for Sahara el Beyda, which was where the Siwa Oasis is, and it just so happened to be where the girls needed to go. When you stack them up together, it made perfect sense that the girls thought they could trust him-- Diego didn't know much about their trip and helped them the best he could (which was a lot), so why wouldn't Omar do the same? He's an Oxford Archaeology major, too, for crying out loud, the girls struck gold in the end!
Gold that was too shiny and too good to be true. Gold that was, in the end, nothing more than pyrite, fool's gold.
Omar is a good case for why you should be careful with who you trust, and when you should start thinking a little bit when you're getting a little too lucky with the people you meet. When the girls got to know him a little more and decided to trust him and tell him the deal with their trip, he got way invested in the gem-- too invested to not be a little bit suspicious. Maybe the girls mistook it for his passion for his archaeology major, maybe they mistook it for something else-- but whatever the case, Omar pulled the cheesecloth over the girls' eyes and really only fell apart near the end, when his alibis and behavior started becoming more and more suspicious; and by then, Omar didn't need to be as inconspicuous, and the girls had gotten to know him too much to readily say to him "okay buddy can you kindly f%ck off, your vibes are not vibing here".
The girls probably should've been suspicious when Omar reappeared in Bolivia out of nowhere, but I guess his alibi was just good enough (and the girls at this point were probably running on adrenaline, caffeine and a brain on 70% capacity at most) to pass the Deception check.
Fr tho there were some bits where the girls should've found him sus but they didn't (him accidentally saying "I did it" when they uncovered the emerald, and also him handling the emerald the way he did), so shrugs. It could be a translation thing, but it could also be something else.
Anyway, kinda meh for a sequel, but it does have its standouts that allow it to somewhat stand on the same level as the first and third books. Kinda.
Hey, at least it's not as bad as Crystal Fairies-- that's the bar of bad-ness I'm setting. It's not as bad as Crystal Fairies and that's what matters--
Also special thanks to @ishmeowwow (it won't let me ping you for some reason bestie <:[) for making the lil' artworks haha
#geronimo stilton#thea sisters#thea stilton#book review#book rambles#book rant#thank you ishmeow for making the gottems for me :D#you came in clutch while my ipad is still dieded thank you bestie <3#in the book it's just the lip balm but ishmeow decided to go all-out with the gottem gag and i can't be more grateful lmao#same goes with the gemstone in aurora's gottem (it's just the fake tiara plus fake gem) but hey the more salt the merrier :D#book 2 luke is so jarringly different from his other depictions but at the same time#he does not in fact touch grass and he does crack an evil cackle at least once a book so#i dunno how i feel about it . .#on one hand it adds to him not touching grass#but on the other hand it doesn't connect with his “this villain is supposed to make you shnit your pants at how intimidating he is”#he's intimidating because of his connections his ability to basically spy on the entire world and control everything from his base#and y'know he can tell his goons to do whatever and they'll literally wreak havoc to fulfill said requests#he was so intimidating in concept that they had to nerf him with incompetent goons lmao#after doing last minute research i am deeply concerned for the girls' wallets and their mental and physical health :D#like good god i thought a ten hour flight was unbearable and made your body stiff but holy damn#i'm not complaining too much about the timeline tho because this is hilarious and makes the girls look so neurodivergent#“what do you mean we flew a total of 64 hours by plane feels like it's only been a day to m--”#*dies*
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ghostedcas · 7 months
Note
imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
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goldenhypen · 8 months
Text
✴︎ ⎯ interrupting them with a kiss
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pairing | enhypen x reader
genre | fluff
wc | 1.2k
warnings | kissing lol + some playful teasing/bickering,, lmk if there’s anything else!
a/n | first work since the hiatus omg hope y’all enjoy i haven’t done one of these in a whileee
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HEESEUNG ♡
this boy is literally in the middle of answering a question YOU just asked but you can’t help but notice how ADORABLE he looks right now
wearing his oversized hoodie that engulfs his entire tall form somehow manages to make him look so tiny before you
and so you can’t just sit there and act like you’re okay
you can’t hold it in you anymore
so you kiss him
“oh…” he says, blinking at you, pleasantly surprised as you pull away. “do that again, please,” he smirks with more of a demanding voice this time
LEE HEESEUNG????
you’re left there at a loss for words at this reaction you didn’t expect to elicit from him
and so noticing you’re not doing anything, he decides to take things into his own hands
literally thanos’ “fine. i’ll do it myself” but make it intimate, sexy and lee heeseung
and you catch yourself melting under the hot touch of your boyfriend as his lips immediately find yours
JAY ♡
after kissing him all of a sudden, he lowk flinches and looks at you wide-eyed before acting like you didn’t just make his heart suddenly rush at 150 miles per hour whilst simultaneously doing hundreds of flips in his chest
he looks at you with a questioning type of look before laughing, attempting to mask his now flustered state before letting out a confused, “what the…”
“sorry, you were talking, then i realized how pretty your lips were looking as you were talking, and then you talked some more, and i—couldn’t hold back :)”
he scoffs playfully while letting his eyes shut half closed, still looking at you with an unamused (actually, very amused) stare, “so are you gonna let me finish what i was saying—”
“or should we make out for a few minutes? :D”
“y/n!”
no but after exposing him to the idea, soon the only thing leaving his lips were yours every time you had to catch your breath— (oop)
JAKE ♡
honestly,,, he’s barely taken aback??? 😭😭
like jake srsly? 😭 way to ruin the fun 🙄
nO BUT YK WHAT HAPPENS NEXT THO???
okay so you were the one messing with him, right? buT SOMEHOW BEFORE YOU KNOW IT HE’S THE ONE HAVING FUN MAKING YOU FLUSTERED DJDNDJDJ
literally turning this entire thing around like it’s some game
and so now he’s the one having you forming into a useless ball of mush as he suddenly takes hold of your face, kissing you back passionately like he thinks you can handle it or something 😭
lucky for you he’s holding you so even if every muscle in your body shuts down, having you weak under his touch, LIKE IT DOESNT FEEL LIKE IT BUT you are safe and secure with him <3
moral of the story: almost always whenever your lips meet his and you pull away, his brain just automatically takes it that he needs your lips back on his again asap and he’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants
this boy puts a whole lot of value on the kisses he gets to share with you. sorry i don’t make the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️
SUNGHOON ♡
sunghoon is just smiling as he reminisces out loud some memories you two shared from a while back
and if you’re being honest, the moments he brought back to life through his words started to make you fall in love with him all over again
you smile ear to ear just as he is and suddenly you catch yourself staring at his lips,, maybe it was the pretty smile you were just always so attracted to…
*peck*
“hey! what was that for?!” your boyfriend exclaims, very obviously flustered by your sudden move on his lips and djdjsjsj you catch a glimpse of his cheeks growing red before he turns away to hide his cute face with his hands
is that not just the most adorablejejsjdjd
he takes a few deep breaths in to compose himself before turning back around, ready to scold you (ZJDJDJ yes hoon you go !! dhdjdj)
“y/n, you can’t just do that!”—yup, great one, hoon, keep going—“i—was talking! and that was rude to interrupt me while i was talking…yeah! and actually, i should be the one making you flustered! not the other way around!”
smoothhh
“oh, so i made you flustered then?”
“hey!—you—no! i’m just saying…”
you let out a small chuckle, “cute.”
“what did you just say?”
“i said you’re cu—“ *peck*
“park sunghoon!” you laugh, in shock
“now look who’s getting shy.”
I— ???
SUNOO ♡
when you suddenly kiss him in the middle of his long run down of the latest gossip between his peers, a gasp leaves his lips as a smile automatically graces his face
“hey!” he hides his face in his hands and chuckles unbelievably, whining playfully, “don’t do that!”
“what? you don’t like it?” you tease
“if you do that again, i’m gonna refuse to even bother talking to you. you hear me? got it?”
oh the sassy little sunoo threats
“mhm, it’s just ‘cause you wanna kiss me so bad too, huh?”
“oh my, y/n,” the boy literally face palms, sighing, “yeah, let’s continue this conversation another time.”
he’s so done (nah he actually loves playfully bickering with you) he literally begins walking off, so you shout, “so is that a yes to more kisses, or???”
“no!!!”
“are you sure??”
“ugh, fine!”
he loves you 🙄😔
JUNGWON ♡
HED GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST CUTEST PUPPY KITTY(??) EYES
like full on adoration
he doesn’t care that you just stopped and interrupted everything he was saying
he thinks it was just so cute that you kissed him like that
a smile grows on his face as he asks what that was for
and you tell him how he just looked cute and you apologize you couldn’t help yourself
and that was when he had it
and he immediately leaned in and kissed you right back
YANG JUNGWON CALM DOWN A BIT PLS ITS TOO MUCH FOR OUR WEAK YN HEARTS-
NI-KI ♡
GETS SO FLUSTERED RIGHT ON THE SPOT
right as you pull back and watch for his reaction he’s letting out a chuckle and pressing his lips together, turning his entire body to face away from your view
he’s in his own world for a moment, processing what just happened before getting flustered again and trying to calm down and compose himself
and so you try to get his attention again. you poke him a few times, “riki? riki? riki?!”
he turns around, TRYING TO ACT ALL COOL AS THOUGH HE WASNT JUST STRUCK WITH THE BIGGEST SWARM OF BUTTERFLIES IN HIS STOMACH
like riki your face is all red, you can’t hide nothin 🙄
“hm?” he asks in the most composed voice and with the calmest face he could pull off (p.s. he was not very good at acting “calm” at all whatsoever and you just couldn’t let this boy have his moment)
“you’re so red right now,” you point out and cackle
“do you wanna kiss again?”
SJSNDJ I— ???? NISHIMURA RIKI!?&@:’!
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a/n | lol don’t mind if the tenses were all over the place in this one T-T i tried writing in present tense for once,, let’s hope it stayed that way throughout the whole thing djdjd ,, i hope you liked reading this one! first goldenhypen work in how many months?? hope you lovelies enjoyed !! likes and reblogs are very appreciated mwah <3
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its44intheehouse · 2 months
Text
CHARLES LECLERC-NSFW alphabet
this is very. spicy. enjoy🍒
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A - Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)
Charles is sweet. After destroying your guts or making love passionately to you, he’ll always make sure you get the proper aftercare. He’ll offer to clean you up, run you a relaxing bath, get you water, whatever you need. He is a very attentive boyfriend.
B - Bodypart (their favorite body part of his and his partner’s)
He is very proud of his physique. Especially his abs and hands. He spends a lot of his time training and making sure he stays fit, not only for the sake of his career but also for him. One time he asked you to ride his abs, and it turned him on so bad that he almost came in his pants just watching you get off like that. And he loves it when you stare at his hands. You do it unconsciously sometimes and he likes to pretend he doesn’t notice it until later on when he’s making you come with them until you can’t take it anymore.
On you, he loves LOVES your boobs and your legs. He can’t get enough of the sight of your boobs when you’re riding him and they just bounce in his face. He has to have his mouth or at least his hands on them everyday. It’s a must. Whether he’s coming up behind you for a hug or he’s spooning you while sleeping, his hand is always underneath your shirt, touching them. And it’s not always sexual, he just loves them so much it becomes a reflex. It’s comforting for him.
And your legs. He loses his mind everytime he sees you wear one of your short skirts or dresses and he can see your long, soft legs. He loves it when you put them in his lap while you’re reading your book, when they’re propped on his shoulders while he’s fucking you raw or eating your pussy. It adds an extra spice when he just fucked you dumb in his car before an event and you just have to walk around the whole night talking to people while his cum is slowly dripping down your legs.
C - Cum (anything to do with cum)
He’s versatile. But always respects your wishes, so he’ll come wherever you want him to. But if he had to admit, he is obsessed with the idea of coming inside of you. He is very sensitive to touch. So if fucking you with a condom made him feral, imagine letting him feel you without one. Once you got on birth control and gave him the green light, he went nuts about it, fucking you anytime and everywhere he could and making sure to pump his cum deep enough so you would feel it slip out of you even hours after.
Also, he thinks its very hot when you blow him and swallow right after, smiling at him as you stick your tongue out to show him how good you are for him. And even though most men find it disgusting to kiss their girl after they suck their dick, Charles is definitely an exception. He’ll grab your chin and press his lips to yours everytime, then he’ll smirk and tell you “You did so well, baby. Good girl, made me feel sooo good.”
D - Dirty secret
He wants to make a sextape. He is absolutely, head over heels in love with you, and although he’s always enjoying the moment when you two fuck, he’d love to have a video of you doing it so everytime he’s away from you for racing he has a visual reminder of how wet you get for him, how good you’re taking him, how destroyed and unreal you look when your eyes are tearing up and your mouth is swollen from his kisses and how pornographic your moans and whimpers sound everytime he’s thrusting inside of you.
E - Experience (how experienced he is in bed)
He is a relationship type of man. He’s had some girlfriends in the past, not a crazy amount of them though, but he knows what he’s doing. He always goes all in when it comes to sex, because he loves to be able to feel good and make his partners feel good also. He’s kind of cocky and wants to do a good job so that he can see the results of it afterwards. How your legs are still shaking, how you’re having trouble walking or sitting just because of how good he got you.
F - Favorite position
As I said, he’s versatile. He’ll have you in every position he can think of, as long as he knows it’s gonna benefit the both of you, especially you. Charles loves challenges, so you two tried a bit of everything almost. But his favorite positions have to be the good ol’ missionary, because he gets to see you in all your beauty underneath him, cowgirl, because it does something to him when you’re the one in charge, and doggy, so he can slap and grab your ass anytime he feels like it. He also likes to wrap your hair in his fist and pull on it so he can have your back pressed against his chest while one of his hands is busy rubbing your clit.
G - Goofy (how serious is he in the moment?)
It depends. Usually Charles appreciates a light energy, and enjoys being his playful goofy self. He’ll crack a joke in bed sometimes, but most of the time he takes things seriously because he wants to show you a good time.
H - Hair (how well groomed are they? how do they prefer their partners?)
He doesn’t like to be messy, personally. Also, due to his racing and excessive sweat that always results from it, he prefers to keep things clean and shaved. He’s always trimmed nicely and fresh.
On you, he doesn’t really care, as long as things don’t get too much out of control and you take good care of your hygiene.
I - Intimacy (how is he during sex)
He’s always making sure to put you first. He isn’t afraid to slow things down or stop if he sees you’re not particularly enjoying something, and will always ask you if you’re okay or if you need something. He’s also very romantic. During foreplay, during sex, all the time really. Will have you swooning after his sweet words and affectionate touches and he always looks at you as if you are the most beautiful woman to set a foot on this earth. Because he believes you are.
J - Jack off (does he masturbate?)
He rarely has the time to do that and he doesn’t have to think about it too much because most of the time you’re with him, so it isn’t hard for him to find a way to get off. But when you’re away and he’s lonely in one of the hotel rooms on race weekends, he’s always facetiming you. And no matter what you do, that man will get an erection. You can always tell he’s needy when his breathing gets uneven and his voice is slightly shaky, so you offer to talk him through it. Dirty talk was something that never came to you naturally even though you craved it secretly, but since dating Charles, you’ve both experimented with it and now it became a habit for you when you’re on the phone masturbating with him or helping him come.
K - Kink (what kink/s does he have?)
He gets feral when you’re bossing him around. Especially in bed, he loves to see you comfortable enough to seek control and have him do whatever you want. If you’re on top, he’s a dead man. He thinks it’s so sexy.
Also, Charles is a family man. He wants to have a family and kids at some point, because he absolutely ADORES them. We been knowing. He can’t help the smile on his face or the glint in his eyes when he sees you with kids. He knows you’re going to be the mother of his children and that thought never fails to make his heart flutter. But it also makes his dick throb violently. He can’t stop imagining it. Your tits swollen and full of sweet milk and your stomach big, carrying his babies with so much love. God, he can’t wait for the moment you’ll both be ready so you can start trying. But that doesn’t stop him from fucking you multiple times and pushing his cum back inside of your abused cunt. Even though he knows you’re on birth control, he’ll still fuck you stupid and imagine he’s getting you pregnant right then and there, while groaning and whispering to you “You’re so full of me, ma belle. Fuck. One day I’m gonna get you pregnant. You’re gonna let me put a baby in you and I’ll make you my beautiful little wife, yeah?”
Anyway 😏
L - Location (favorite places to have sex)
It doesn’t really matter to Charles. If he’s horny, he’s gonna want to take you anywhere. Not a corner of his or your home was left untouched, you fucked everywhere. The bed, the couch, on the table, on the kitchen counter, the floor, in the shower, the wall… You’ve even done it in his drivers room a few times. He also has a thing for car sex. Charles loves his cars and he loves you, so fucking you there gets him pretty enthusiastic.
M - Motivation (what gets him going)
So easy to make him want you. Like I said, he is very much in love with you so he’s always down. But he has a thing for teasing. He’s a big flirt and a very successful one, he never fails to make you blush or make you wet. But when you turn the tables and flirt with him back, teasing him and batting your eyelashes at him, he thinks he’s going to pass out. Your whole energy makes you irresistible to him.
N - No (turn offs, things he wouldn’t do)
He believes sex is for pleasure and exploration. So with that being said, he would never hurt you. He’s down to try almost anything sexually, but he can’t stand the thought of being too rough to the point of inflicting real pain on you.
O - Oral (how good they are at it, preferences on receiving/receiving)
Charles is a both a big giver and receiver. He’s got quite the ego so making you feel good also feeds his confidence. This man’s purpose is to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your legs shaking. He gets off on the sweet taste of your pussy, on the sounds you’re making, your scent, the way you grip his hair and roll your hips on his face. God, he could stay between your legs for hours. He’d never get tired of it. He even asked you to sit on his face a few times, even though you were a bit unsure at first and needed a bit of convincing. But once you got to see how hot it was and how amazing it felt, you were the one starting to ask for it.
Going back to the ego thing, sucking his cock does inexplicable things to him. He thinks it’s so cute when you try and take more and more of him everytime just because you want him to feel good. Seeing you struggle to fit all of him in your mouth gives him a big confidence boost. He likes to throw some praises here and there to encourage you when you look up at him with teary eyes.
P - Pace.
Usually depends on the mood. He’s always sweet, romantic and considerate. You’re his princess, the love of his life, and he’ll make love to you just the way you deserve it. But he can switch up real fast and become more rough and fast if you ask for it or if something is really bothering him and making him mad. One time after a DNF and a nasty fight with his team, he just made his way to you, grabbed you without a word and rushed you to his drivers room to take out all his frustrations. He was so mad he couldn’t even care about someone hearing you. You rarely see Charles mad, but you couldn’t lie and say something about him fuming wasn’t making your knees go weak.
Q - Quickie
You two had mastered the art of quickies. It isn’t unusual for you to have one before or after a race, between interviews, before events, even in the private jet’s bathroom. Although he loves to take his time with you. But everything will do, as long as he has you.
R - Risk (how risky he is)
If it wasn’t for his career, he’d be more unhinged. For now, he has only tried making you cum with his fingers under the table while you were out with some of the drivers. He loves his job and he knows he can’t afford to act too reckless if he wants to keep it.
S - Stamina (how many rounds can he go for?)
He’s more of a one looooong round typa guy. It can last up to two hours or more, and he’s going to drain all the energy out of you.
T - Toys (how does he feel about toys? does he own some?)
Charles is a grown man and knows that toys are his teammates, not his enemies. He doesn’t own any and neither do you, but he has thought a lot about buying some for you, just to switch things up a bit or for you to use them when he’s away. He’ll definitely facetime you and ask you to use them on camera so he can see.
U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He’s going to tease THE SHIT OUT OF U. He’s always playful and loves to make you frustrated. He always enjoys watching you slowly crack from his teasing.
V - Volume (how loud he is in bed)
He prefers to hear you more, and sometimes he is just too focused on what he’s doing so he doesn’t make a lot of noises. A few moans, groans and whimpers here and there. But oh boy, when he’s close? He turns it up a notch.
W - Wild card
He kind of loves it when you deny him pleasure. One day when he was streaming you decided to make things a bit spicy and crawl under the desk to give him head. To say he was surprised was an understatement, since he was used to you being more on the shy side. He wanted to end the stream right then but you made it very clear that if he did that, you’d stop. And even though it was the hardest thing he had to do, especially with the risk of people catching up on what was actually going on, he has to admit it was hot as fuck. He came so much then.
X - X-Ray (what’s under)
Charles is above average, thick and veiny. It’s a delicious stretch and hits the spot every.single.time.
Y - Yearning (how high is his sex drive?)
Very high. This man is almost always bricked up. He could go for it anytime.
Z - Zzz (how fast they fall asleep after)
After making sure you’re both comfortable and you’re in his arms, he’s dead asleep.
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karinasbaby · 29 days
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lee heeseung — POOL. [4:58 am]
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P. heeseung x fem!reader (+17) | W. mentions of alcohol & a party, unprotected sex, gojou reference, fingering & squirting, dacryphilia, praising + degrading in a way? hee’s cocky & a tiny bit rough, dumbification, slight corruption kink | WC. 1.6k | A,N. quick thought that i had to share, might share more of these while i work on other fics !! also this is for my beloved hana @enha-stars who has been studying & working so hard recently, good luck w everything my beloved :D !!
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alright, maybe telling your boyfriend of one month that none of your previous partners were able to make you squirt in a random party at two am wasn’t the brightest idea.
blame it on the alcohol that was running in your system, blame it on your clumsiness and carelessness or your friends that were asking you stupid questions in front of your boyfriend— whatever, none of it mattered right now.
especially not after heeseung’s entire demeanour changed when you dropped such an unexpected bomb for him out of nowhere.
if it wasn’t for your friend gasping loudly he would’ve never made it out of his shocked state, especially right when his fingertips were about to slip against his cup.
and maybe looking at your boyfriend’s darkened, lust filled eyes with your own drunk and needy ones also wasn’t the best idea you were blessed with today, since it led to you and heeseung’s early departure from the party both of you had agreed to stay till sunrise for.
here you were now, dealing with the consequences of your own actions as heeseung picked you up with ease and guided you towards his lap, heavy breaths along with your whines and his grunts echoed throughout your room, your hot body brushed against his sweaty one, each contact and brush felt like pure fire trickling down your skin.
“fuck— seung, please. it’s not going to happen.” you begged for the fourth time in just the span of one hour as heeseung held his pulsing red tip against your dripping slit, “slow down, baby. we have all day ahead of us, it will happen.” he spoke with a sinister smirk against your neck, a result of your weakened body slumping into his own with the continuous exhaustion building up for you.
a pained moan fell from your lips while he groaned under you, his cock practically bruising your walls at this point with his third entrance, “still so tight for me..” he mumbled, closing his eyes and throwing his head on the back of the leather couch he hastily moved the two of you onto.
his hands gripped onto your hips as his own moved upwards, the familiar feeling of his rushed thrusts made tears spring into your eyes, the release of another climax already building up after the two previous ones, heeseung already had you come undone under him first before moving on to having you scream his name onto the pillow while he pounded into you from behind for the second time.
and now he was guiding your hips to follow his rhythm, head set on one goal and it was to make you squirt for the first time with him, the thought of what your previous partners missed out on and barely put effort in was laughable, he couldn’t wrap his head around the amount of missed opportunities on their behalves and yet at the same time a small part of him was relieved and glad they didn’t.
they just gave him another opportunity to imprint himself more into your mind, really.
and he couldn’t really blame himself for the insane amount of stamina and energy he had right now, your words easily enlivened something deep inside of him and he knew he wouldn’t be able to go to sleep without making you squirt on him, not with the way your words have been ringing in his head since the party.
your arousal that mixed with his own leaked down from your inner thighs onto his, the squelching sounds from the connection point between you two was embarrassingly loud in your ears, and the noises only spurred heeseung further.
he picked up the pace, gradually pounding into you from below while both of his hands gripped onto your ass to guide you with him, every whimper and moan might’ve tumbled past your lips next to his ear but all of it was going straight to his throbbing dick that was abusing your cervix now.
your chest heaved on top of his, breathes short as the only thing in your mind was heeseung’s massive length moulding your walls into his size along with the constant twitching of your legs next to his, you felt the knot curling further in your abdomen, a sudden pressure pooling in your lower stomach that made your grip atop his shoulders tighten, nails softly scratching his skin.
“taking me so well baby.. i know you’re close.” he breathed out heavily from under you, his hair disheveled and shiny around his temples as the dark strands stuck on his skin, more droplets of sweat rolled down his body and onto the leather couch the harsher he moved, desperate to fuck you dumb till you squirted.
you nodded mindlessly along to his words, the only thing your teary eyes being able to make out in the dimly lit room was the frustrating smirk that had been plastered onto his face since you both came back, “you crying?” he taunted, his smile stretching wider when his words made your tears spill past your pretty lashes, his arms then trailed to wrap around your lower back and waist, bringing your face into the crook of his neck while he moved beneath you.
moving one hip upwards while the other one down to angle his cock perfectly inside of your gummy walls and then pummelling his length deep till his tip finally hit that one spot that had you gasp in his hold had him seeing stars, “found it, right?” he drunkenly whispered into your ear, pressing his tip further and chuckling in satisfaction when your legs began to tremble completely under him.
“fucking finally.” he groaned out, not daring to pull a single inch out and only grinding himself against you to keep massaging your spot roughly, his smugness growing at the consistent tightening of your cunt around him, his own delayed release long forgotten in his head as he could taste the feeling of reaching his goal on the tip of his tongue.
god the sounds in the room were filthy at this point, the loud drenched noise of your mixed cum that coursed down your ass slapping against his heavy balls the rougher and shorter he thrusted while he whispered more into your ear made your glossy eyes roll into the back of your head.
he gently pushed your upper body from his, “i wanna see your face when you cum again, pretty.” he cooed, his heavy lidded eyes stuck on your fucked out expression, completely cock drunk and fuck was the sight of your swollen pretty lips, flushed face and wet eyelashes so hot.
his arms stayed around your waist to support you, your hands stayed gripping onto his shoulders to stabilise yourself with your shaking legs while heeseung practically split you open.
“i’m— close. so close.” you whimpered out, voice barely audible making heeseung’s eyebrows furrow while he picked up his pace once again, “oh yeah?” in the blink of an eye he had one of his hands wrapped around your throat as he fucked into you viciously, your gasps and moans instantly dying down at the loud sounds of skin slapping.
“go ahead, baby. cum for me.” he ordered, his excitement evident all over his face and body as his smile widened while his cock twitched, pulsing achingly between your snug walls, the coil in your lower stomach tightened painfully, the pressure and the feeling of your release felt so different to all the others yet you couldn’t focus on anything other than the harsh drags of heeseung’s cock inside of you.
and right when your climax was about to wash over you, heeseung’s arms quickly lifted you up from his length, you didn’t even have the time to process the change before three of his fingers thrusted inside of you making you almost go cross eyed, you cried his name as he began to quickly push his fingers in and out.
small chains of fuckfuckfuck’s spilled past both of your lips, arousal drizzling past heeseung’s wrist as he fucked you on his fingers, his own gasps and moans matching your own, eyes stuck on your shaking form above him as he curled his fingers to press on that spot again, “that’s it right there, isn’t it?” he teased, chuckling at the way your jaw went slack at the pleasure seeping through your every vein while he kept thrusting his fingers before your climax finally washed over you mere seconds later.
your body fell atop his while you finally squirted all over his abdomen with moans and mewls of his name reaching his ears and shit was heeseung gone. “good fucking girl..” he grunted under you, his eyes darkening at the sight of the puddle forming on top of the leather, fuck how was he ever going to not have you squirting all over him like a fountain after this?
heeseung felt himself falling in love all over again at the sight of your back arching in his hold, wetness gushing down his forearm with your legs jerking on either side of his hips, the pressure he felt from your cunt only made him thrust back harder making your vision cloud more.
there was absolutely no way that he didn’t just develop a whole obsession in mere seconds.
your mind went numb as he fucked you through your shaking orgasm, slowly beginning to overstimulate you, “no— hee, please no” you sobbed, tears dripping onto his chest while his hands continued to fuck you through your orgasm and begin to pushing you into another one.
“baby, how can i stop after you just did all that?” he spoke with an incredulous expression, how could you ask him that when he just found his newest addiction? as if he wasn’t already addicted to the sweet flavour of your cunt and your warm wet walls now you also were overflowing around him like this and expecting him to stop?
“i’m gonna have you do that again on my dick this time.” he smiled at your heavy lidded and exhausted eyes, finger slowly coming to a stop inside of you while his other hand pushed your head onto his chest again, “like i said, we have all day.”
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a, note. this is my eid gift for everyone :D really going back to horny hours w this one so hope u enjoyed !! (this is not proofread !!) <33
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bangarangdarling · 1 year
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blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so
Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.
Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.
Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.
Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 
Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 
Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.
Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 
Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 
It was the proverbial straw. 
“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”
Nothing. 
“HEY!”
He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 
Silence rang for a beat.
Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 
The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 
Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 
Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 
It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.
But, see. That just gave him an idea. 
Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 
“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 
He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 
“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 
“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”
It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 
“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”
“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 
Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.
“Yeah?” 
“Can you come here?” 
The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.
“You tired?”
“Uh, no. I’m fine--”
“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 
There was a countdown, three, two, one...
A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 
“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”
“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 
Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 
“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 
Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.
“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.
God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 
Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 
Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 
“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 
“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”
“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 
“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 
“You guys, let’s just go already,” 
“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 
The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 
It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.
What can he say? He’s a weak man. 
“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 
“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 
A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 
The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 
The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 
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s-4pphics · 7 months
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where we meet. (e.w.)
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when ur a monsterfucker n its kinktober lol am i right guys
*silence*
…..
thank u 4 the pointers baby :3 ilysm @elliesbelle
wc;cw: 17.8k, baker!oc, demon!ellie, HEAVY ANGST [mentions underage drinking + alcoholism + drunk driving + car accidents + death], oc’s an eldest daughter… yeah, HORROR? [gore + animal death/mutilation? + vomit + idk scary shit like blood n stuff], SMUT!!!!![HEAVY DUBCON + sexual tension + ellie shape shifts LOL + her tongue is barbed and forked and long like a fruit rollup + blood drinking + fucking outside HAHA + splash of sadism + edging + tentacles WOOO THIS BITCH IS SHAKING THE TABLE!!! + pain kink + spit but venomous + lots of cum/squirting + anal/d!p + err restraint? + oral + crazy size kink + dirty talk + masturbation? + dumbification/mind break + dacryphilia + burning/marking
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“Alright, my love! A dozen red velvet cupcakes, four slices of carrot cake, and ten brownies!” 
You handed two large brown bags filled with desserts over to your favorite regular, Roxanna, “I threw in two complementary cannolis, don’t tell Hattie, please!” You whispered. 
The older woman laughed, turning to depart with the sweet treats, “She ain’t getting a word outta me. Thank you, baby. See you soon.” 
“Have an amazing birthday! Try not to get too rowdy on that yacht, now!”
“Girl, I’m grown! If one of my guests show up without a bottle, they ain’t gettin’ on, point blank!” You both giggled. 
She blew you a kiss and scurried off, the small bell above the door ringing at her exit. You sighed and scurried to the back and into the kitchen, untying your apron and hanging it on the coat rack. 
“Now, Miss Hattie— “
“I know you ain’t tryna disrupt my craft right now. You know better!” The elderly woman had her gray hairs pinned back under her hair net, practically squatting near the counter as she perfected the icing job on the three-layered wedding cake, shrouded in gold and sparkly silver. Your heart grew fonder at the slight tremble in her hands as she piped sprouts of buttercream around the cake topper. 
Hattie, despite her stubbornness, was reason your… fresh start went so smoothly. Meeting her was a blessing in disguise; It was raining when you stumbled upon the old bakery she worked at years ago. You’d just moved as far as you could from your hometown, in desperate need of a job. She turned down your desperate pleads time and time again, that is until you showed up to the shop one last time, drenched in rain, with your homemade red velvet cake. 
She’d nearly cracked you with a broom herself when she saw you standing by the service stand, but you pleaded one last time, and left the foil wrapped dish on the register counter without another word. You’d piqued her interest. Just a smidge. 
You’d received a call from a random number — the owner of the shop— days later, offering you a position at the local bakery. 
As a dishwasher. 
Your victory didn’t last long, however. Turns out your boss was a thieving bastard, cutting all the employee's earnings by a third months after you were hired. You were shocked no one shoved a piping bag up his ass. 
Weeks later, you were out of a job. And so was Hattie. 
… Did she reluctantly ask you for tips on how you made your cake that moist as you two waited for the bus, hairnets still on? Absolutely. And you shared them on the ride back to her small home.
She swiftly became your support, your right-hand man, your newfound comfort only after a few months. You silently thank the universe for her everyday; You couldn’t imagine opening your spot without her with you, making sure to double — triple whatever shit pay her previous boss gave her. 
“C’mon, Roxie just picked up. We needa head out now,” Closing was always a hassle whenever Hattie was in the zone. The extra five minutes she often requested easily turned into an hour if not regulated; Bless her heart. 
She sighed and stretched, “Alright,” Reluctance in her tone. “You’re lucky my grandkids are coming to see me tomorrow!” She set her piping bag down and allowed you to stroll the wedding cake into the walk-in fridge. 
Hattie hardly ever asked for time off; You practically have to shove her out your bakery doors every Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, New Years! The only request — demand she’s ever made was no work on Halloween. She gave you explicit instructions when you hired her years ago: don’t call my phone during the day of evil! 
Her request threw you for a whirl at first. You assumed she was joking because what seventy-year-old woman still cares about Halloween and its lore? When she hadn’t laughed with you, however, you apologized and offered her three days off for the end of October. Everyone deserves to be with their family, regardless of time of year.
You wished you had someone to call during the cozy Fall. 
You threw yourself into work the second you got the chance. Opening your bakery a year ago was something you’d been working towards since you made your first batch of cupcakes at ten years old. You and your mother baked until your arms burned from kneading years after that, and the hobby swiftly became your down time. Your shop was small and crowded, but your name was printed on the door. 
You never thought you’d be able to own anything after the last decade of being locked up, after the accident you’d caused. 
That horrid day and its repercussions continues to loom over you like a dark cloud no matter where you go, filling your life with trails of dread that refuse to be washed away. You lost your family, some friends, a potential partner, and it was all because of one mindless decision during your reckless and dark teenage years. 
To put it bluntly, you never recovered. Everyday is a struggle, but you’ve managed to distract yourself with work. Your newfound friends hate that they never see you, but you beg them to accept that you're busy whenever you receive an invitation to dinner. 
Sadly, your accomplishments are not companions, and your heart is forever vacant. Nothing — or no one — will change that. 
No matter how many times you’ve tried to reach out to your loved ones, your calls go unanswered. You came to terms with the fact that they’ll always see you as the force that destroyed their unity — the disappointment, ages ago, but your heart still longs for their affection. 
You wake up and hope for their forgiveness everyday. 
“You comin’?”
Miss Hattie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as you silently walked her to the door, her work bag in hand and ready to go. 
“No, ma’am. Still gotta check the inventory.” 
She sucked her teeth, “I coulda still been decorating— “
“Enough of that! Get on home!” You waved her off with a smile. 
“Uh huh,” She rolled her eyes and left with a nod, “See you next week!” 
You waved goodbye, shutting the door fully and flipping the open sign to close. 
You stretched your arms above your head, your achy shoulders and neck popping with stiffness. All you wanted was a fucking massage. 
You made your way back to the kitchen, clipboard in hand, marking off products that desperately needed refilling. What kind of bakery runs out of sugar? Sugar!
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The bus ride home was nauseating; You need your own car desperately. 
You politely greeted your neighbors as they left the elevator before heading to your floor. The late afternoon sun was blooming through the hallway windows of your building. You unlocked your door, the waft of cool air from the open window in your living room brushing your skin. 
You tossed your bag off your shoulders, and it thudded to the floor, the overworked bones in your arms cracking when you stretched them up at the ceiling. 
The small ball of fur rubbing against your leg rejuvenated you in seconds. 
Your cat meowed happily when you bent down to plant kisses on her head. She followed you into the kitchen as you heated the kettle on the stove, hopping onto the counter to watch you work. 
“You know better. Get down,” your eyes squinted. 
She only tilted her head at you before sitting on the granite completely. You were too tired to move her. 
Whistles erupted from the small hole in the pot minutes later. You filled your mug to the brim with the soothing herbal tea your friends gave you before heading into your bedroom. 
You closed your blinds and undressed completely, plopping onto your blankets, taking sips from your mug as exhaustion and warmth flooded your body. 
The last thing you remember was your cat walking all over your back. 
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THUD, THUD THUD THUDTHUD—
Your body shook awake at the pounding coming from the entrance of your home. Anxiety surged in your gut when the loud knocks against wood came to a sudden halt, only to start up again, even more frantic and aggressive. 
THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—
You kicked your blankets off and sat up, your sweaty form clinging to the sheets as you searched around your room. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but your door was wide open. You never leave your door open. Did you shut your door when you came home from… 
Where were you before this? 
You called for your cat once, twice, three times, but she never came. Your apartment was always quiet, but this silence… It was weighted, a heavy press on your chest. 
You don’t remember how you got into your living room, but your toes were digging into the soft fluff of your rugs, attempting to sketch into the floor. Even the slightest movement felt like a fight against sludge. Like trekking through the rain in drenched clothes. The knocks didn’t cease, and was synced with the pounding in your ears. 
The walls were breathing. Why couldn’t you breathe? You swore you were going to throw up. 
The painted plaster moved in waves, your door plunging in and out of its frame, back and forth like a pendulum, but you couldn’t see behind it; Your toenails scratched harder into the floor. You couldn’t stop staring at the door. Every nerve in your brain was urging you to run, find a place to hide, but your body wouldn’t allow it. You simply stood, trapped in a cloud of distress. 
The banging stopped and you inhaled, air finally filling your lungs. The feel of fabric beneath your toes was no longer there: something softer than hardwood. Something squishy, something sticky and wet with hair. Your nails tore into it, oddly comforted by the sensation. 
All was quiet again, the familiar steadiness of your home calming your racing heart. 
Until a weak, wheezing exhale came from beneath you; You nearly missed it. Your heart rate skyrocketed when you peered at your feet. 
Your cat’s neck and stomach were sliced open, her small organs pouring out of the large slit in her body. Maggots and spiders were crawling all over her, your feet completely drenched in her blood and your nails plunged deep into her decomposing skin. The insects devouring your nearly dead pet rushed up your legs at an alarming rate, tearing into your thighs like desperate rats fiending for a meal. 
You woke up screaming. 
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“Girl…”
“I don’t know why that happened! I’ve never had a dream like that before!” All the lights were on in your home, your kitty purring in your lap as you stroked her comfortingly. “I know it’s late but can you come over? I’m honestly… freaked out right now.” 
Your good friend, Celeste, exhaled over the line, “… Yeah,” she resigned. “Gimmie ten minutes. I love you. Just… try to relax.” 
You breathed when she told you to, your head bobbing like she could see you, “Okay. I love you too.” 
You almost didn’t want to hang up, but you’d already bothered your friend enough tonight. It’s been a while since you two hung out together; You hope she’s up for a sleepover! 
Your kitty nuzzled your chin affectionately. You hoped she knew you would never hurt her. 
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“I’ve never been so horrified in my life!” You spoke around the sugary spoon in your mouth. “Dreams have never… felt like that for me. I swear, it doesn’t matter how deep my sleep paralysis is! I felt like I was really,” you quickly peered around the room for your kitty, praying she couldn’t hear you. “Stepping on her body! My poor angel.” 
Celeste shoveled more ice cream into her mouth, “Girl, that’s fucking crazy,” she assured, nodding towards your sleeping baby on the table. “Just remember that nothing actually happened. You love her and she loves you.” 
She continued after a heavy sigh. “But you know me. Dreams, nightmares, they’re all from something, and if it felt as real as you say…” Her brow arched at you. What the fuck is she talking about? 
Her eyes rolled in exasperation, “Isn’t your coworker, like… mad superstitious? Queen, but still. The devil’s working, girl.” 
You took a deep breath like she instructed a billion times over since she’s arrived. A smirk grew on her face. 
“Plus… it’s that time of year. ,” she stuck her tongue out and playfully grabbed her tits, “We gettin’ slutty. Gotta show out for Scorpio season. I made my own costume.” 
Your nerves calmed at the reminder of your friends' packed weekend. Since your only true time off was during the spooky season, they always encouraged you to join them in their reckless behavior, especially during your time off. You resigned from partying a long time ago, but did indulge in the lively atmosphere from time to time during the holiday season. 
“You’re right,” you sighed and placed your hands over the resting ones on her chest. 
“Thank you! Take that damn chef hat off!” she scolded. “No more business talk until— “
“Next week, I know,” you mocked, “And I don’t wear chef hats, thanks.” 
“Don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m getting pipe tomorrow night,” Celeste fell back on the sofa, giddily kicking her feet in the air.
A hearty chuckle escaped you. Maybe you’d meet someone too. 
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You were finally able to get some rest— thank god for Celeste — and start organizing your costumes for the… large sum of parties they planned to drag you to. 
You still haven’t completely recovered from your nightmare two nights ago. The vivid imagery that your subconscious conjured up still gives you the ick, but for the sake of your friends, you chose not to bring it up again. You silently thanked the universe when you managed to get a full nine hours the night before. 
Your friends managed to pull you into the Halloween spirit and take you to… Spirit. Despite the void stares from your friends at your costume choices, you settled on the Zelda outfit that’d been on sale at Party City for the past two weeks. Celeste couldn’t stop herself from… cutting your costume up and making it as revealing as possible. She opted to cut off the sleeves, sew the pants into a skirt that hugged your body way too tightly, and did your makeup how she wanted. You didn’t stand a chance against her. 
You despised how hot clubs get; You probably looked like you were melting. 
You stayed as far away from the bar as you could, watching your friends down shot after shot as the night progressed. Your surroundings were crowded and stuffy, the bass of the DJ booth rattling from your feet all the way up to your chest. Your moves were sloppy and disoriented, but Celeste was behind you, grabbing your hips and supporting your weight. 
Your thoughts were hazy and incoherent as your arms waved around to the beat. The music blasting in your ears turned into white noise; The environment completely entranced you, your eyes shutting at the weightlessness of your clammy body. 
The hands behind you were suddenly grabbing tighter, yanking you closer, as you continued to dance. 
You pushed back onto them and their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, yanking you close, your clammy flesh practically melding with theirs. Their scent engulfed you, rich and deep yet distinct. Your arm wrapped around the back of their neck, pulling them down while their hands explored your hips. 
Their lips were on your neck, your head resting on their shoulder. Something hot was stirring in the pit of your stomach the more they swayed you, the arch in your back deepening; You haven’t felt wanted in so long. 
You tried to spin to face them, but they held you still, pressing their chest into your backside. Your breaths picked up when they bit the most sensitive spot on your neck, your toes curling in your heeled boots, your manicured nails nearly chipping in your stockings. 
Their mouth moved higher and higher, right under your ear, the hand coming up to wrap around your throat to hold you still. Your core squeezed as the grip on your neck tightened… and tightened… your airways were closing, and swiftly, the feeling was no longer pleasant. Your eyes snapped open when they didn’t let up, a shocked gasp escaping your dry mouth. The moment was no longer sensual, but straining and forceful. Almost angry. 
Your lust turned to panic instantly, your eyes bulging as your nails dug into their hands, their taut thighs, their wrist, but they didn’t budge. You thrashed and shook with terror. You gasped for air and tried to push them off but it was all for naught. 
Nobody came to help you. Suddenly all the faceless bodies around you were gone, heaps of black smoke pooling at your feet as you wailed for Celeste. The hands and lips were replaced with razor sharp claws and fangs as cold as ice against the side of your face, murmuring voices and screaming chants roaring in your ears. The former body grew monstrous, tripling in size and darkening. 
The sensation of decaying, bloody skin was at your feet once more, fiery red ants and black widows nipping at your skin as the smoke flooded up your body, swallowing your calves, thighs, waist. 
Weak shouts and begs for release went unheard by the force behind you. A faint whisper of your name made you sob harder; You’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die—
The whisper called your name again. And again. And again, much louder and urgent. Desperate for a response but all you could do was holler for your mother. 
One last shout of your name made you drop to the floor, all the sensations surrounding your body gone. Your crown clanked onto the vibrating hardwood as drunk clubgoers gawked at you in confusion and annoyance, Celeste and your friends staring in concern, reaching to help you up. 
But you couldn’t be touched. Any brush on your skin surged your heart to your throat. You needed to get the fuck out of here. 
Your friends kept yelling about what happened, how they could help, but you couldn’t speak. You swore you were going to vomit. 
You pushed yourself off the hardwood and through the crowd, away from your friends, away from everyone. Your smudged makeup stained your wrists, the shouts of your name going unheard as you shoved passed security and ran into the night. 
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You didn’t sleep at all that night. 
You immediately left the club, hauled a taxi, and ran up into your apartment, double — triple checking to make sure all your doors were locked and windows were closed. You tore your costume off your body and threw it into your garbage before hopping into the shower. You desperately wanted to wash your hair, but you refused to close your eyes. The darkness when you blinked was haunting enough. 
To put it lightly, you were fucking horrified. 
Your body trembled under the steaming water, soft sobs escaping while you scrubbed your skin raw. Especially your shoulder. 
Your phone rang off the hook until the sun rose, your kitty refusing to leave your lap. She never failed to comfort you in your times of need, but you barely rubbed her all night. All you could do is cry and think. 
Your friends pounded on your door multiple times, but you refused to move from your bed. Their frantic knocking was very reminiscent of the pounding in your nightmare. You couldn’t shake how real everything felt: the comfort, the desire, the destress, the pure, unfiltered terror at the imagery of you being eaten alive by darkness. If you could even call it that: imagery. 
Imagery is not enough to describe what you experienced. You were attacked in public, and no one bothered to help you. Nobody… saw anything. 
You’re not fucking crazy. 
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Your friends were sweet enough to stop by the same afternoon with candles and lavender-scented bath bombs after your public breakdown. Their efforts at lifting your spirits didn’t go unnoticed, but your thoughts kept racing, every time you shut your eyes, even for a few seconds. How the hell were you going to explain what you saw that night? 
Despite your friends’ skepticism, you were eventually able to convince them that you felt severely claustrophobic and the lack of air sent you spiraling. 
… It wasn’t a complete lie, at least. 
You were able to get some minuscule hours of sleep after they left before it was time to prepare for your shift. Dark circles were imprinted under your eyes, your skin was dry, and your uniform was not ironed, but you were up and moving. Small victories. 
Your hand was practically glued to your forehead in extreme fatigue, your eyes burning at the brightness of your computer screen as you checked the time. Your emails always boomed during this time of year as people prepared for the holiday season; A good night's sleep seemed even farther away now. 
You swiftly replied to each request with your availability before grabbing your bag and keys, kissing your kitty goodbye, and running down to the bus stop. 
You greeted every familiar face with a polite smile before entering the already packed vehicle, the beginnings of a rising sun beaming through the scratched windows. You plopped onto the only available seat — farthest away from your neighbors — with a heavy exhale, your head falling against its rest. 
This week is going to be so gruesome for orders; You prayed Ms. Hattie was prepared for it. 
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Returning to work was just as draining as you’d assumed. 
Your business line has been ringing off the hook all morning, people asking for dozens of gingerbread cookies and wedding cakes layered to the ceiling. You could make a nest for yourself right on the clean tiles of the kitchen and nap. 
You’ll never know how Ms. Hattie did it: wakes up at five in the morning and moves through decorating like a walk in the park. You can barely lift your arms and it’s only hour three. 
You whipped egg whites and sugar like your life depended on it — it did — with your landline tucked between your shoulder and ear, reciting pick-up addresses and numbers in voicemails. You’re so fucking tired. 
Hattie wasn’t, though. Just quiet. A bit too quiet. 
She hasn’t said much since you’ve arrived. She got to the shop much earlier than expected, politely saying good morning when she caught you standing by the kitchen entrance. She hasn’t acknowledged you since. You tried to get some laughs out of her, but she only half-smiled before silently returning to her work.
You two continued to carefully wrap and deliver dessert-filled boxes like a well fueled machine up until the last minutes before closing. You stretched before grabbing the broom to sweep the entire shop, making your way into the kitchen where Hattie was staring off into nothing. 
“Hey, girl. I can close up, so,” you murmured, wiping the sweat off your brow. 
She seemed to be pulled out of her trance, “Oh, sorry hun,” Her head bobbed. “Are you sure you’re good on your own?” 
“Yes, ma’am,” You paused. “Umm, are you doin’ okay? You seemed… I dunno, quiet, I guess.” 
Hattie nodded, and you took it as an invitation to speak. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about? You didn’t even tell me how your weekend went. How’re the kiddos?” You asked gently, propping your broom against the wall. 
A heavy exhale left her. 
“I… Something was…” she stuttered. 
Another deep inhale. Another lengthy exhale. 
“Something felt different, no?” She whispered. 
Your brows pulled down in confusion. “What d’you mean?” 
“This… this weekend. Wasn’t it different?” 
“Umm…” you pondered. “Not really, no. Why, what’s goin’ on?” 
More silence before she huffed, “… Nothin’. You know how I get this time of year. Sorry, dear.” She turned and snatched her work bag off the counter before departing with a skittish nod, “See ya tomorrow.” 
“W-Wait—“ You tried to stop her, but the kitchen door was already slamming shut, the small ding alarming Hattie’s departure from your shop. 
You allowed your tense shoulders to drop, snagging the broom and heading towards the front of your shop for cleanup. 
That was odd. 
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The front door of your apartment shut and you fell back against it in exhaustion. You desperately needed a massage. 
You stretched before pushing yourself off the door and wobbling over to your cat’s area, refilling her bowl and cleaning her litter box. You clicked your tongue to lure her over to eat. 
You called her name out when she didn’t come. You snagged her filled bowl and shook it, alerting your baby to come and eat. She still didn’t come. You huffed and made your way into your room; She probably took over your softest pillow again.
The bowl in your hand clattered to the floor and your screams nearly shattered your windows. Bile rose in your throat and you heaved at the scene in front of you. 
Your beloved pet was dead. Completely mauled, her blood and organs pouring out of the giant slit that went from her throat to her stomach. Sobs wracked through you at the savage attack. The one source of comfort that you looked forward to seeing every morning and night was gone, snatched away from you in the blink of an eye. You've tried to alleviate your anxiety by suggesting that your nightmares are merely that. Dreams. Creations by your subconscious to try and solve issues that occur in your everyday life. 
But nothing so heinous would ever cross your mind. You would never harm the precious angel who brought you healing in your times of need.  
This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone came into your home while you were away. Someone killed your baby. 
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“We’re sorry, ma’am,” the county deputy sighed, “But there wasn’t any sign of breaking and entering. You stated that everything is where you left it, correct?” 
“Everything wasn’t where I left it,” Anger rushed through you at the officer’s dismissiveness. “My cat was fucking fine before I went to work. I’d never… put her in an environment where she could be harmed,” Tears flooded your eyes. 
“We understand that this was an attack done in your home. What happened here’s definitely not normal, but we won’t be able to solve everything in one night,” He consoled, “We’re getting a team here to investigate. I would suggest packing an overnight bag and staying with family or a friend until we get this situated.” 
Family. You almost broke down. 
When you didn’t respond, he interjected, “We can also find you a room to stay in for a few nights— “
“No, uh, thanks. I got it.” 
You dug in your pocket for your phone and dialed Celeste. He nodded and spun towards his partner who jabbered into a walkie. 
Your friend’s tone blared through the speakers, “Hiii, baby, what’s up! I haven’t heard from you in a minute.” 
Your bottom lip wobbled, “Sorry I didn’t call. Um… can I ask a favor?” 
“Of course you can. What’s the matter? Are you good?” 
The floodgates that’d been building in your eyes overflowed, pouring down your cheeks and onto your work shirt. You wept. 
“Can you come pick me up?” 
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“I just feel like… I feel like I’m going fucking crazy,” you whispered and picked at your fingers, “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but— “
“Nah, it makes perfect sense. You’re fucking psychic. That’s literally the only explanation,” your friend shook her head at you. “You dreamt about something and it happened a couple days after.” 
“None of that shit is real, Celeste.” She sighed in disappointment. 
“It’s not real to you,” she pointed from the other side of the couch. “My grandmomma was a witch—“You huffed and adjusted the blanket draped over your shoulders. 
“But, hey,” she raised her hands in defense. “I can’t make you believe anything. But coming from the most superstitious bitch in town, somebody is trying to tell you something. You’re not freaked out?” 
“Of course I’m freaked out! But I'm not wasting my time thinking about some… fuckin’ ghost— “
“What happened when we were at the club?” 
Your blood went ice cold. You couldn’t stop the pure terror that spread across your face at the mention of that night. You’ve attempted to block… whatever happened out of your memory for the last couple days for your sake, but Celeste read you like a book, and you hated her for it. 
“Exactly. Are you ready to talk about it now?” 
“I… I told you what happened— “
“You lied about what happened. And don’t try to argue,” She leaned closer, eyes comforting. “We tried calling out to you for so long. We thought somebody fucking… laced you, or something, you were so zoned out. We were this close to calling the fucking police.” 
“… What do you mean? I lost y'all in the crowd before I started dancing with somebody— “
Celeste shook her head, “No.” 
Your throat went dry, the blood rushing to your head almost making you faint. 
“We tried to tell you, baby. But we didn’t wanna push you to talk to us about it,” she said gently. “We were with you the entire time.” 
The tightness in your chest wouldn’t subside, shuddering breaths leaving your nose with every denial from Celeste.  
“No one else came up to us,” she whispered, “and no one danced with you.” 
Your head kept shaking in attempts to disprove her claims, in attempts to combat the fear that was attempting to slice you from the inside out, but deep down, you knew she was onto something. 
Celeste’s hold sadly didn’t bring comfort, but she held you close anyway, ensuring that you’re not by yourself, but all you could think about was your mother. The smile she used to give you whenever you succeeded never failed to recharge the dying battery in your back. It’s depressing how little impact her grin has on you in adulthood. 
The dark cloud of your past cascaded over the two of you; If she were here, your best friend would’ve forced you into the passenger side of her father’s pick-up, already halfway across town by now, set to isolate. To escape. 
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“Whoever did this is incredibly strategic,” The tall detective stated with a journal in his hand, “They didn’t leave traces of anything: hair, fingerprints, nothing. It’s almost like they never broke in.” 
You haven’t been able to get any sleep or go to work for the last week, completely isolated inside your friend’s home. When you received a phone call from the detective assigned to your case, you caught the first bus you could and flew back to your apartment complex. You don’t remember the ride. 
Your hope plummeted at his declaration, even with his reassurance, “We’re doing everything we can to find this person. Your safety is our number one priority.”
He gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and it brought you comfort. While you weren’t satisfied with their reports, you could see that he was trying. Was this your first time meeting him? 
He seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. 
He stared into your eyes with a gentle grin and continued, “If we should even call them that. They’re a cold-blooded, heartless fiend that needs to be taken out.” 
Your brows furrowed at his sudden determination, but your head bobbed in agreement. Your mind was racing but you couldn’t say anything. Someone killed your baby. Did his grip on you tighten? You couldn’t move. 
“The bastards that get away with such vicious crimes need to be put away forever,” his tone was harsh and sharp, and it made your fingers twitch. Your stomach plummeted when his smile stretched higher, his teeth shin
His other hand landed on your other shoulder. You tried to move back, but you couldn’t, “S-Sir— “
“They need to be hung from the ceiling by their throats and slaughtered like fucking pigs! Like the worthless animals they are! —“
His spit landed on your face at his screams. He hollered about how much he hated killers, how they were scum and deserved to be tortured. How you… 
“You thought we forgot about what you did?” He whimpered; prior menacing smile vanished.
The bearded man in front of you was sobbing, his gaze pinning you against the wall. He didn’t blink and his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth turned downward, the corners of his lips nearly touching his chin. Your eyes frantically traveled over his form, his uniform replaced with pajamas and slippers. 
“YOU’RE A KILLER! YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER! —“
Cursed murmurs amplified his pained shouts. Your home was melting away, the walls seeping into the floor before you dropped, the terror weakening your limbs. Your nails dug into the grass and dirt below you, panic electrifying your system. 
The man was gone, but you were outside in the middle of the night, decomposing trees surrounding you. You tried to stand but you couldn’t. You were forced to take in the scene that you wished to never see again. The one scene that your subconscious couldn’t eliminate no matter how hard you tried to forget. 
Your parents' car— wrecked car. The vehicle was completely destroyed, the bumper and windscreen ran into a tree. You screamed and shouted but no noise left, the sinister chants resounding in your ears. The wreckage seemed to move, closer, closer, your eyes locking onto the two bodies inside completely mangled in the accident. 
The two bodies were younger you, thrown over the dashboard and your arm twisted to an alarming degree, blood running down your head and mouth, shards of glass piercing through the skin of your bare legs. 
You couldn’t stop yourself from peering at the body beside you. You hollered for help, cried and begged to wake up, all while staring at your best friend — your soulmate, completely maimed from the waist up. It was just as brutal as you remember: her blood splattered all over the airbag, her limbs shattered and broken, large pieces of glass pierced into her skull. You were sick, you were sick. 
Suddenly, the mantras that attempted to swallow you whole stopped. 
Then there was laughter. Your soulmate’s laughter, but it wasn’t how you remembered. It was darker, hollow, empty. Enraged. 
Everything around you went dark. 
Sobs tear through your throat the second your eyes open, the comforting scent of Celeste’s lavender candles intruding your senses. Your body was drenched in sweat, and you could hear your friend calling out to you, her cold hands on your face, but you couldn’t think. You just screamed. Her attempts of trying to sit you up failed, your fingers hanging onto her sheets for dear life. You were paralyzed with fear. 
Somehow, your biggest regret came to pay you a visit. 
Your instincts finally kick in, pushing Celeste off you and bolting towards her bedroom door. She was calling for you; she even reached out to touch you, but you pushed her harder. 
She screamed for you to stop, and you lost it. 
“Get the fuck away from me! STOP — stop fucking touching me!” you rush out into her living room and towards her front door. 
Shocked plastered across your friend’s face. 
Celeste whispered your name; Why did she sound like her?
“I gotta get the fuck outta here, I can’t,” heave, “I can’t fucking do this, I can’t, I can’t — “
Distraught mumbles fled your tongue on your way out, not bothering to look back at your friend. You heard her sniffling before the door slammed shut, guilt swarming your chest, but it wasn’t enough to overcast the terror ripping you open from the inside out. 
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After vomiting outside of Celeste’s apartment building, — multiple times — you took your leave. As fast as you could. You couldn't say a word to her; She desperately tried to get information out of you, but your throat felt like it would crack open at the slightest whisper. The fear you’d been trying to invalidate crashed into you all at once. 
You fled without your belongings, only slowing when night goers surrounded you in the city. 
Celeste has been worried sick about you this entire time, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. 
Your steps were jerky and quick, and you kept scratching at your shoulder. You felt her everywhere. All over you, but it wasn’t comforting. Not like it used to be. 
You walked and walked, your mind racing with moments from your past: the last moments with your best friend. Your kryptonite. The scar in your shoulder was covered in fresh, red lines from your nails. 
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JUNIOR YEAR: 2012
You frantically shoved your books into your locker, anticipating the alarm that sounded for lunch. You can’t wait to get the hell out of here. 
The second it goes off, you're booking it for the door. You hoped Ellie kept her word and brought your birthday present. 
You busied yourself in your small cubby whenever security or teachers walked by, politely greeting them with the most innocent smile you could muster. They didn’t bat an eye, wishing you a happy birthday before turning the corner at the end of the hall. 
You gave them all fake greetings until the loud tone blared through the hallway speakers, students instantly rushing out of their classrooms to head to the cafeteria. You grabbed your now empty backpack and merged with the crowd, trekking for the exit. You managed to scurry through the double doors of the school and bolted towards your parents’ old car, ducking behind the driver's side as you waited for your best friend. 
You texted her a few times but she didn’t respond for minutes. You almost gave up and returned inside the building before two hands pinched your sides from behind. A squeal left your mouth when you whipped around. Ellie snorted at you, her arms wrapping around your neck in a tight hug. You reluctantly hugged her back. 
HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU—
You shushed her shouts with a smile, Shut up! Someone might hear you.
She kissed your cheek before releasing you, No ones fucking here, relax. Open the door, her head jerked towards the vehicle.
You stealthily unlocked it and the two of you jumped in. You shoved the key into the ignition as Ellie cranked the speakers all the way up, your car rattling with bass as you two exited the parking lot and zoomed down the main street. 
Ellie belted Cherry Waves out the window, bright laughs leaving your throats as you drove to… anywhere. Times like this always bring you joy; You love being around her. 
Ditching class might’ve not been the best birthday celebration, but you were having a ball. 
You drove until you reached the end of town. There was a small campground that you and Ellie found on your first couple drives together, and it swiftly became your little get away spot. You’d spend hours talking, drawing, screaming at the top of your lungs until the sun disappeared and your parents demanded you come home. 
You two raced to your designated spot by the lake, Ellie’s filled backpack slamming onto the sand, glass clattering from the inside. You mischievously eyed it, I think someone owes me a present! 
I don’t owe you shit. I’m a good friend, say thank you, She rolled her eyes. You grabbed her hands and clumsily twirled her. 
Thank you, Ellieee! you nearly ripped her bag apart as you inspected the contents. 
Don’t go too crazy. Remember what happened last time? her smile was light, but you could tell she was scolding you. You snickered. 
Um, yeah. We had a ball. Help me open this, you downplayed, passing her the unopened bottle. 
You know exactly what she’s referring to; You might’ve drank a bit too much at your friend’s birthday dinner. And Christmas party… and when you all went to the fair, but it was all in good fun! You’re young and living life; Ellie’s always a bit dramatic when she comments on your drinking. 
Ellie snatched the bottle and opened it, taking a large swig from it before handing it back. You followed in her lead, taking three large gulps of the liquid, the burn flowing down your throat and into your stomach. Ellie pulled her speaker out of her bag and queued your joint playlist. 
The two of you drank and sang and danced until sunset, your vision blurry and legs wobbly. Ellie was sweet enough to help you back to the car, snagging the keys from your pocket before helping you into the passenger side. You tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t understand. She always looked so cute when you mumbled nonsense, wispy brows pulled down with a light smile. You felt so happy whenever she was around. 
She drove you back home and you threw up all over your front yard. Somehow, she snuck past your parent's room without hassle, ushering you into bed. You couldn’t stop laughing; Her bright smile only made you cackle louder before her hand pressed against your mouth. 
Ellie’s soft palms moved up and down your arm bare, occasionally squeezing your bicep. You couldn’t stop smiling, goosebumps following the drag of her fingertips.
You’re such a dork, she whispered between snickers. 
You love me, you said much louder, but she hummed. The look in her eye was suddenly far away. You nervously nibbled at your bottom lip, your eyes dropping to her mouth. Did her lips always look this soft?
You admired every aspect of her face in silence, your index finger continuing to trace over the bridge of her nose, the apple of her cheeks, down to her chin. Ellie’s a sight. 
Your hazy mind barely noticed the tint on her cheeks, your bedroom dimly lit by the moonlight cascading in from your window. Her eyes were glued to your mouth. 
She inched closer, her moves subtle. You would’ve missed it if she wasn’t right there. 
You don’t know what came over you, but your mouth pressed against hers. Her lips were stiff against yours, and it made you pull away.
She didn’t seem… happy, not how you felt. Her expression was gloomy, her eyes flashing with… everything and nothing at the same time. You locked up instantly. 
You love me, Ellie… right? 
Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth when you slurred. 
Ellie didn’t answer, and you held yourself up on your elbow, your brain alarming your legs to get up and leave. To abandon. 
Ellie… d-do you love me? 
O-Of course I do—
The tremors in her voice sliced through you like a hot blade. Her confirmation was only meant to appease, your drunk brain told you. Ellie doesn’t love you, not like that. Your own parents’ love is conditional; Why wouldn’t hers be?
You were never a rebellious kid. 
Your parents always praised you for being a remarkable role model for your younger siblings: incredible listener, studious, eager to help others. They never failed to highlight, amplify, pressure your good behavior. But their doting smiles disappeared when you failed to meet their expectations. 
The transition from middle to high school was rough for you. Your grades suffered and you were surrounded by other kids you didn’t recognize, and your “star-student” streak vanished in an instant. You’ve never seen your family so disappointed in you. 
You broke your back trying to save your academic status for the next few years. You hardly slept, ate, spent time with your newfound friends, and it was all for your parents. They didn’t acknowledge you until that offer to join the early-college program came in the mail during your sophomore year. When you accepted that you needed to have something to show to get their affection, you spiraled downward. 
You swiftly replaced the emptiness in your heart with a bunch of seniors. They agreed to let you tag along if you could hang, so you did whatever was necessary to gain their companionship: started sneaking out, staying out late, going to parties that you had no business being at. 
Started drinking. 
Just one sip, loosen up! Little did you know that’s all it took to get you hooked. 
The drink was rancid and a gross, murky color. You weren’t enjoying it, so why couldn’t you put the cup down for the rest of the night? You threw back cup after cup until you were unconscious on the front porch of the house. None of your friends bothered to take you inside where it was safe. 
You barely recall being hauled back inside and upstairs, plush pillows under your head as you drifted off. When you woke, you swiftly decided that the pounding in your head and the nausea in your gut was worth it. Last night was the freest you’d ever felt. You almost missed the small sticky note stuck on your arm. Someone gave you their phone number, demanding that you tell them if you made it out alive (i hope so.)
You gained a best friend from that sloppily scratched note. 
Meeting Ellie was a blessing. She was funny, smart and kind. She was so nice to you. None of your old friends treated you like she did. Ellie’s friends were much warmer and welcoming when she introduced you to them for the first time. Every time they had plans, you were invited, no conditions needed. 
Every vacant space in your heart was filled with something brighter. It’s unfortunate that your brain has already mastered its attachment to something more dangerous. 
Ellie… for the billionth fucking time, I don’t have a problem. Can you just let it go? you scoffed from your bed. 
I’ll let it go when you cut it out. You can’t do shit without it anymore, She spat, pointing at the McDonald’s cup filled with Tequila. You grinned nastily and sipped your straw. You were so sick of having this conversation with your friends. With her. 
Yes, I can. I’m fine. See? You sarcastically rubbed all over your body. Another huge gulp. I dunno why y'all are acting like this. I’m not the only one that drinks. 
You’re not fuckin’ fine, first of all! It was fun at first, but you don’t know how to control yourself! You’re scaring everybody off, Her arms flailed as her voice rose. You’re so happy your parents are working. 
You weren’t “scaring everybody off”; You did have some outbursts some time ago, but your friends were still around. They always called you for a fun time, and you were always there to show out. 
Oh my fucking god, you’re so extra, you got up with your cup, grabbing Ellie’s hand and leading her into the bathroom down the hall. You removed the lid and dumped its contents out; You tried to hide the surge of anxiety as you watched it go down the drain. 
See? I can stop whenever I want. 
Then stop, she whispered, sadness in her eyes, No more… okay? 
The emotions flowed through her eyes like water, and it made you uncomfortable. You already wanted a refill, but you nodded to appease her. 
O-Okay, Ellie, I’m sorry, you whispered, and she hugged you so tight. Kissed your clothed shoulder, and it gave you solace, even if it was just temporary. 
But when she left, you were alone, comforted by the temptation of your own thoughts. You broke into your parents’ locked liquor cabinet that same night. 
When you showed up to exam day drunk, Ellie began to pull away. 
She didn’t bother to beg and yell when you were entranced by your vice. You simply saw her less, and your heart cracked whenever your calls went unanswered. 
Abandonment was the worst feeling, even more so when it’s a result of something you’ve done. Your anxiety spiked significantly when you strolled around campus and your friends ignored you, and it only made you drink more when you got home. The acidic pacifier you discovered was turning you into someone unrecognizable. You were failing, and you were alone. You’d wished your siblings were older so you could talk to them. 
Everything came crashing when your parents received an alarmed call from your principal. 
You’d been vomiting in the nurse's office for half an hour, and they ended up calling the ambulance. Your stomach was getting pumped hours later. 
When you regained consciousness, the only thing you could hear were your mother’s hysteric sobs in the hall. 
Summer came along, and you were out of rehab. Withdrawal fucking sucked; It took you almost three weeks to fall asleep in the center. 
You didn’t expect to see Ellie and your friends sitting on your porch when your parents pulled into the driveway, flowers and your favorite candy in hand. Your best friend cried into your shoulder for an hour straight; You refused to let her go as you sobbed into hers. You’d missed hugging her. 
When everyone was seated on your parents' couch, you offered to share the secret to get melty, gooey chocolate chip cookies every time. They couldn’t stop grinning at you; You were finally back to normal. 
Ellie spent the night at your house and hugged you to her chest until you drifted off. 
You accepted that you were a terrible person when all you could think about was a drink. Just one. 
All the promises you made were broken a few months later, crushed into dust by your own hand.  
Everyone you loved hated you. Liquor always forced you to see the truth in people, melted away the fantasy that you created out of self-preservation. It fueled the rage that you desperately tried to keep hidden from your family; You’re so fucking mad, and you can’t remember why. 
Your parents hated you; your siblings hated you, your best friend, the one person you have to confide in, the only thing you had left to love, hated you. Everyone hated you, and it was all your fault. Selfishness was the only way one could be a successor. 
The second Ellie climbed into your parents’ car with that soft look in her eye, fury swallowed you whole. You barely said a word to her, her favorite song cranked to maximum volume. 
Ellie? Your voice was quiet, but you were seething. You don’t remember why. 
Hm? 
D-Do you still care about me? your hands were clenched around the wheel so tightly, you thought it would snap in two. She was suddenly tense in the passenger seat, but she whispered without hesitation. Of course, I do… always. 
But you didn’t believe her. 
Ellie should’ve never agreed to go on a drive with you. 
The way Ellie whipped her head towards you was vicious, her hand slamming onto the volume button of your car to silence the noise. You hated how she knew instantly. 
… Are you fucking drunk right now? 
There it was. All the proof you needed. Confirmation that you were nothing but a disappointment. You hadn’t moved from the stop sign. Self-loathing thrashed from the inside; your teeth are bound to crack like glass with the tightness of your jaw. 
She’d whispered your name with so much disdain. A molten tear eased down your face like magma. This was the same residential area you parallel parked in for your driver’s test. 
Your eyes were glued onto the dimly lit street as Ellie cried and begged for you to stop the car. She admitted to loving you and apologized for everything she said that could’ve hurt your feelings. All you had to do was stop the car and everything would be fine, she said. You pressed the gas so hard; it nearly touched the floor of the vehicle. 
I love you… Please don’t do this… I love you so much… 
Ellie’s last scream was haunting before everything went silent. 
The reality around you never rebuilt itself after that night. 
You were able to convince yourself that the accident didn’t happen for a few weeks. Until your best friend’s burial. According to your parents last voicemail, Ellie’s father wanted to strangle you with his bare hands. You took his life away with one decision. No one contacted you after that. Not your parents, not your siblings, not your friends. 
You were charged and placed in juvenile detention until you were of legal age, and sent off to prison for another six years after that. 
Your habit fed you lies about the people you loved most, and it cost the life of your only constant. The one person who tried to get you to change. The purest form of love you had. 
You killed your soulmate, and you never recovered. 
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PRESENT
You walked until you reached Hattie’s front porch. Your calves were on fire. 
Your tightly clenched fist pounded on the wood with all the strength you had left. You could see the shadows of someone walking around inside, but she didn’t open the door. She probably wanted nothing to do with you after not showing up to work for weeks, but you were desperate. 
“M-Ms. Hattie, please,” you hollered, “I really need t’talk to you! Please, please— “
The door barely creaked open. You expected her to scream and berate you for disrupting her so late in the night, but she was silent. Didn’t utter a word. She only peered through the small crack in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot. Her voice sounded graveled, like she hadn’t slept in days. 
“What the hell are you doin’ here.” 
“Ms. Hattie, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where to go,” You harshly wiped your eyes, “May I please— “
“No, you may not,” her glare sliced through you, sharper than any knife. You bawled. 
“Please, I’m beggin’ you, ma’am— “
“What…” her voice quivered, her gaze breaking away from yours for a split second. 
“What did you do… to that girl?” She whispered like it pained her, and it felt like your chest would concave. 
“… W-What?”
The look on her face was enough for you. 
She knows. She knew. 
“It was you,” tears filled the woman’s eyes, “I had a dream that you… How could you do that… That poor baby…” 
Your head shook in denial. It was an accident, you wanted to scream, I don’t know what came over me! Your eyes squeezed shut and you fell to your knees, thunderous pleads leaving your throat as you begged her to listen. You hunched over and miserably tried to grab at her feet. 
I loved her, I loved her, I loved her! You couldn’t speak. 
“Whatever happens t’you…”
“No, nonono!—“
“I hope God… the universe… whoever the hell,” She spat, “Has mercy on you.” 
You couldn’t stop screaming. Your voice was muffled by the concrete floor. 
“Get the fuck off my porch.” And the door slammed in your face. You heard the locks click, and just like that, your last inkling of hope shunned you. 
You hadn’t realized you’d been screaming for Ellie until you sat up, burning eyes glued to the dark, cloudy sky. 
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The sun rose from behind as you climbed your apartment steps. 
The bundle of police cars and black trucks outside the building were an indication of your case being ongoing, but it brought you no comfort. A constant ache was present in your chest every time you breathed. Murmurs erupted from behind as you dragged your body inside, ignoring the deputies who were urging you off the premises. 
Officers and residents stared at you in confusion, shock, bewilderment the second you hopped off the elevator. Exhaustion was pouring out of you, your under eyes almost black and pajamas wrinkly. You can’t recall the last time you showered. 
The elevator dung, and you made your way down the hall, police tape surrounding your front door. You dodged it and crept in, the sight of the investigators almost sending you into a panic. 
Terror built in your spine as they gawked at you; Ellie’s fucking with you. You’re probably asleep right now. 
“Ma’am?” 
You shakily turned towards the investigator assigned to your case. “Are you alright?” 
No. You nodded, “I came to get some things.” 
Some silence passed before you spoke. 
“I need a place to stay,” your cuticles were scabbing. “As far away from here as possible… if that’s even allowed.” Your living room felt like it was tipping. 
Their brows furrowed, scanning over your ragged appearance, “Um… The farthest we can place you is about a half hour away. We still need to monitor you… Especially now.” You bit the dig with a tilted head. 
You nearly leaped into the air at the sudden, distant ring in your ears. 
“Will y’all still cover m’stay?” The tremor in your hands built with the shrilling pierces in your drums. 
“Yes… Are you sure everyt— “
“I’m fine! I’m fi— I’m fine!” The shrieks overwhelmed you, both hands coming up to cover your ears, your head pounding. Foreign hands were attempting to steady your hunched form, but to no avail. Your body gave out completely, pained wails leaving your dry lips. 
I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—
You tried. You tried your hardest, but you couldn’t convince anyone — yourself that you were okay. Something’s here. When did the air in your home get so cold?
The softest call of your name frosted the blood in your veins. 
You’re hallucinating; You have to be. Don’t look up. Don’t open your eyes. 
The voice called again, elation enriching her tone. Your head shook in disbelief. 
It can’t be. 
“L-Look at me. I’m here! I'm okay!” 
No, no no no, you told yourself. Sobs wracked through your hunched form. 
“Look at me! I love you!” 
Shoe-covered feet inched towards you, slowly. Almost… cautious. 
“Wake up! Wake up, wake up!” Your whispers were harsh. Urgent. Desperate. 
A comforting hand rubbed your shoulder. You flinched and wailed, frantically pinching the skin of your wrists.  
“NO! No, no, fucking get up— “
“Shhh,” Her hand squeezed you, “It’s me.” 
You’re going to fucking puke. Your eyes stayed shut while she cradled you, your head resting on her shoulder. She felt taller, stronger, but she smelled the same. You couldn’t move, but she hugged you so tight. 
Ellie, Ellie, I love you, I’m sorry— 
A kiss on your shoulder. Right over your scar. 
“I love you more.” 
You calmed in her presence as she rocked you on the floor. Your guilt almost made you push her away, but you’re selfish; You need this, for her to hug you. 
It felt like she held you for years, right on your apartment floor. She didn’t let you go. 
But when your eyes opened, eggshell white hospital walls surrounded you. Kept you trapped in the small hell that Ellie’s created. 
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You haven’t slept or eaten. You’ve barely showered. 
Ellie was with you. Ellie’s with you. You felt her there; She held you! You’re not fucking crazy. 
Three days have passed since you were carried out of your apartment by EMTs, according to the investigators that are still terrorizing your fucking home. They assumed you were having a seizure by how still you were. You were unresponsive for minutes, they’d said. Celeste was right. You didn’t have the courage to face her and apologize. 
You haven’t left your motel room since you’ve arrived. You hate it in here — it looks like it’s eroding from the outside, the windows are scratched and tinted a murky yellow, the sheets feel like sandpaper, but it’s better than home. Better than being in public amidst your impending psychological breakdown. 
Ellie’s here. She’s watching you and laughing at the wreck you’ve become. 
You’re slipping; You can feel it. The way she hugged you… You could’ve melted into her for eternity when she said she loved you, never to be seen or heard from again, completely under her control. Not that anyone would care about your disappearance. A gutted huff left you. 
Your past finally caught up to you. Tears flooded your eyes for the hundredth time tonight. 
The faint shuffling coming from your bathroom didn’t even shock you. She’s here again. 
Your eyes overflowed, and they shut in resignation; You’re going to die. 
“E-Ellie?” 
Silence. 
Your eyes squeezed tighter. You have nothing left to fight for. 
“Just do it! Just fucking do it!” 
That’s all you’ve ever been: a quitter. More shuffling, then silence. 
“FUCKING KILL ME! KI— KILL ME, ELLIE!” 
You heaved and rose from the edge of your bed. You marched down the seemingly endless hallway, heart cracking in your chest. 
“KILL ME! KILL ME, KILLME! —“
Weighted knocks pounded against your room door, shocking you into silence. She’s here, she’s here; She’s fucking with you. 
A dark chuckle left you. 
“You’re fucking sick,” You spat with a sniffle, “I hate your fucking guts, just like you hated me! You fucking hate me, right?” 
You’re awake. And you’re angry. 
You tramped towards the entrance and knocked back just as hard. 
“FUCK YOU, BITCH! FUCKING — FUCK YOU, ELLIE, YOU FUCKI— “
Heat traveled across your face the second you ripped the door open. 
A woman… a motel employee… with sheets in her hand, visibly stunned. 
You’re going fucking crazy. 
“Uhh… just came to give you new, uh, sheets,” Her voice was high-pitched, clearly uncomfortable. Your eyes flickered with embarrassment, cheeks blazing. 
“S-Sorry…” You allowed the shorter woman entry, and she scurried over to the small nightstand in the corner of your room. 
You picked at your fingers, “Um… sorry if I scared you. It’s been a weird… fuckin’ weird couple of weeks.” 
She didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just silently laid the sheets and pillowcases on the side of your bed. 
“Am I,” You huffed, anxiously rubbing your eyes. “Are you gonna report me or somethin’?” 
Silence. 
Your brows furrowed at the sudden stillness of the woman, her back turned towards you. 
“Hey, you okay?” A cautious step forward. “Look, I’m… I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m fine— “
“Fuck you.” 
You flinched at her venomous tone; voice filled with spite. The fuck?
“… What?” 
“After all this time…” she whispered, the ponytail in the woman’s head shaking in disbelief. 
“You’re still the same… selfish, psychotic fucking bitch I remember you to be.” 
Your knees buckled at the sudden low timbre of her voice. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms at its familiarity. She sounded just like… She’s… It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t be—
The one window you cracked for air earlier slammed shut, the clicks from your door signaling your confinement. You’re trapped.
Your nails sunk into your palms; She’s here. She’s real and she’s fucking here and going to kill you. 
Her laugh filled the room, low and vengeful, and the one lit lamp on the nightstand flickered off. 
Your breaths were shallow and desperate, sheer panic rushing through your body. You took blind, scurried steps towards the door, feeling around for the knob to take your leave, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the wood from the inside, screaming for anyone to come save you. 
Something cold and slimy slinked around your ankles and roughly yanked you to the floor, your hands scrambling to grab onto anything on the hardwood as they pulled you towards her. You caught glimpses of her glowing, red eyes with every panicked look over your shoulder. 
You were pulled up, up, up by your feet until you were dangling upside down, her glowing orbs piercing through yours. You barely made out her manic smile, fangs bright and as sharp as knives. Something sharp pressed against your windpipe, ready to tear your throat out. 
The room she trapped you in disappeared completely, an empty, dark void surrounding her, you. There’s nothing anywhere. 
You hollered as your stomach flipped; She’s going to kill you right here—
“Ellie, please, please don’t! —“
A sharp slice right through your shoulder. You released a pained scream before your vision grew cloudy, body growing limp as you swayed in the air. Your screams quieted, your drowsy mind filling with images of Ellie smiling affectionately at you. 
Ellie… Ellie, please… 
Trees danced with the wind before everything went dark. 
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Water erupted from your mouth, your eyes ripping open, fingers tearing into the dirt beneath you. 
You pushed yourself into a sitting position, more water dripping from your hair and clothes, down your bare legs. Pain shot through your shoulder with every move. You reached to touch it and… ouch. Blood coated your fingertips. 
You gazed around. You knew exactly where you were, but it was off. 
You and Ellie’s hideout. The campground is exactly how you remember, but it was darker, murkier, less inviting and cozy. Familiar, yet foreign. 
“Miss me?” 
You jolted, scurrying away from whatever was behind you. 
“Aww, don’t be scared,” Ellie mocked, fake pout pulling at her lips. “C’mooon, it’s just me! Welcome to my humble abode!” 
What the fuck, what the fuck—
The same appendage from earlier wrapped around your leg, yanking you back, and your heart sank. Your eyes were deceiving you; They had to be. 
Ellie, much taller and stronger than you remember, stood over you, pupils pitch black, a devious smile spread across her face, sharp fangs glimmering in the dark. The two horns that swirled atop her head were dark, the protruding veins red and throbbing like they were alive. You saw the sharp edge of her tail glowing behind her head, speckles of red liquid crusting over on the tip. 
Is… Did she cut you with that? 
Your heart squeezed painfully with familiarity; The small spots that dusted her face and the scars that covered her legs from biking accidents were still there. 
“E-Ellie?” 
She posed, arms extended, “In the flesh. Kinda. There’s no… actual flesh for the dead… Well, we technically could have skin, but it wouldn’t be ours.” 
“I’ve been lookin’ for you. You look good,” she muttered, eyes dark as they traveled over you. You suddenly felt exposed. 
Silence passed between the two of you. How was her tone so casual? 
What the fuck is going on… 
She huffed at your silence, “Didn’t think our ten-year anniversary would be this fucking awkward. Can’t even say hi?” 
Her words were hardly registering. 
“Huh.” Her eyes flashed back, and the organ around your leg untangled, retracting into the grass beneath you.
“You’ve… you’ve been looking for me?” 
“Mhmm,” she hummed, carelessly playing with her razor-sharp nails. “You got outta jail, got a place… bought the bakery you always talked about. Congratulations, jailbird! You beat the system… and were able to outrun the devil for some time!” 
She showcased the ashy, decaying scenery like it was a prize. “Here’s your first glimpse into the other side. Is it to your liking? Should I fluff your pending gravestone? Put some roses over it since everyone you love won’t?” 
Other side? “… Am I dead?” 
“Nope! Almost. You have a purpose before I take you out. Finally, am I right?” Sarcasm sharpened her tongue. 
“… You're insane,” your voice was hoarse, shattered. You swore your esophagus was bloody. 
“Me?!” She snickered sickly, eyes darkening, “Remind me what happened between us again? Who hurt who? Who killed who?!” 
“… I— “
You paused. What the fuck do you say to her? I still love you somehow. Please don’t hate me forever. I’m a worthless fuck up—
“None of the above,” she interrupted… your thoughts? “To be frank, I don’t wanna hear shit from you,” she swayed sassily, circling you like a shark, her tail sashaying around.
“… Why’m I here then?” 
She paused, the muscles in her back flexing. Your gut tumbled. 
Ellie turned to face you, lips curling devilishly. 
“Well… ” she trailed off, voice alluring. “It gets lonely down here. I don’t have anybody to call. Nights are so cold.” 
She suddenly dropped to her knees, sensuality practically leaking out of her as she crawled towards you. Your heart was thumping, stomach in knots. 
“I need you… to do exactly what I tell you…” 
Your breaths shuddered the closer she got.
“I’m so fuckin’ hungry… Just sit there and let me take what I want,” Her mumbles were drunk and lustful. “You fucking owe me. I’m trapped here ‘cause of you.” 
She straddled your lap, eyes glued to yours. They flashed red, and an appendage locked around your throat, knocking the wind from your lungs and pulling you flat onto the dirt. You tried to pull against it, but it tightened on your airways. You choked, pain searing in your shoulder, causing you to let up. Another set of slimy appendages clasped around your wrists, followed swiftly by two locking down your ankles. 
The burn from your bleeding shoulder made your nipples harden under your filthy sweatshirt. She chuckled above you. 
“That was quick,” Her brow arched. “Haven’t gotten any? What, no one wants to drill a felon?” She cooed with a pout. 
You shot her a glare. A squeeze on your throat. A clench from your walls. 
“Oh!” She exclaimed in remembrance. “Sorry about that club fiasco. I was gonna fuck you then, but seeing you enjoying yourself got on my nerves, so.” 
She rambled on about how she made a whole plan to ruin your life the second she found you until you were rotting in the grave, but you weren’t listening. Your eyes moved over her lips, down her neck, over her bare chest, blood burning under your skin. Another squeeze from your cunt. Your face burned with every drop of slick that left you. 
“Think I’m cute? The horns doing it for ya?” she interrupted your gawking. 
You averted your gaze. She snorted before her expression went lubricious, eyes glossing over.  
“You smell so good,” she slurred with fluttery lids. 
No, you don’t. You haven’t showered—
“I meant your pussy, you fucking idiot,” her eyes rolled in annoyance. “You’re killin’ my vibe. Shut up.” 
Your eyes widened in shock; Don’t think, don’t think—
“She smelled like that in the club. Just needed some lovin’, hm?” Her hand reached back to pat your pussy over your pajama shorts and you squealed. You’re leaking. 
“Oh, she’s starving— “
Fear and arousal flurried in your tummy, “What’re you gonna do?” 
You could almost see the wires in her head sparking to life. She leaned over you, her cold body pressed against yours, noses almost touching. 
“I’m gonna rip that pussy open until I feel better…” The aura around her was smokey and blinding. “And then…” Her nose bumped against yours, almost affectionately. “I’m gonna rip that fucking throat out. Might hang your body from a tree. I needa decorate.” 
A choked sob left you, thighs rubbing together as tears plummeted down your temples. Ellie shushed you gently, her forked tongue licking over the droplets before they cascaded down into the grass. 
Every swipe of her tongue sent a zap through your face. The sting sent your jolt through your spine, hips bucking into her. A hot, slick line ran up your cheek, grazing your jawline, cat-like spines digging into your clammy skin. 
… Is… Is she really…?
You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up your body, your foot jerking outward at the sensation. The tentacle clenched around your ankles, and you gasped. Ellie was grinding on top of you, whimpering into your neck, marking your skin. 
“E-Ellie, El— “
Another swipe, a thick, sticky trail burning its way into your hairline. Your whines are almost inaudible. Pain is burning up your legs when the organ twisted tighter; You’re shocked your ankle didn’t snap in two. 
She moved faster on top of you, pleasantly sighing into your neck. Your face is fucking sizzling. 
“What the… fuck,” The situation is settling in for you: Ellie’s dead… but, not? And she’s humping you like a dog. You shouldn’t want to watch her, observe the love of your life get off on your fucking stomach, but you — your pussy wants it — needs her. 
You missed her so fucking much. 
Soft chuckles erupted from her, icy breath on your neck. She sat up, rubbing her bare cunt on your tummy. 
“You wanna watch?” 
No, no no please—
Your head shook, mind racing with pleads for her to touch you, but she stared back in disapproval. 
“I think you wanna watch,” She sat up, lifting her knees and resting her freezing hands on your thighs, her pretty pussy on full display, “Missed me that bad?” 
She’s right there, but you can’t move. More tears, more begging from you. 
“Wanna see a trick I learned?” She inquired mischievously. You didn’t have a chance to answer before more vine-like organs emerged from the dirt, eager and throbbing, globs of slick dribbling from their tips.
“When you’re sad and horny, answers will eventually fall in your lap,” She watched the appendages sliver all over her shoulders, her back, down her stomach. Her head flew back, her short flyways waving around her horns. 
“I bet that fucked up head of yours never expected this would happen, huh? Never thought you’d see me like this?” She moaned out as the suctioned limb traveled over her left nipples, her eyes beaming red, scorching through your chest. 
Your walls squeezed down on nothing, desperate groans leaving your throat, underwear clinging to your cunt. You couldn’t close your legs, the members slinked around coming up to suck on your thighs. 
Nasty little cuck, her voice boomed through your skull, Wanna watch me get fucked, right?
Your head bobbed dumbly. The appendages scurried down her body. You watched as the veins in her horns glowed brighter, her eyes shading an even deeper scarlet, her lip catching between her teeth when the suctions came in contact with her clit. 
The slippery members attacked your thighs with strong suctions, the sensitive skin littered with blotchy, dark spots. A wet slither made its way up your body, under your sweatshirt and in between your tits. The tip teased both nipples, your back arching deeper for more friction. The air was muggy and your body was disgustingly sticky; The sensations made your clit jerk. 
You blearily stared up at Ellie, nearly cumming at the sight of her with a thick, throbbing appendage fucking into her pussy, another two attacking her nipples. Her walls were stretched around the dark, pulsing tentacle, her juices filling the open air with sopping squelches. 
Her eyes fluttered open and refocused on you, a dark line of drool dripping from her mouth and landing on your exposed torso. You released a pained shout, your skin burning at the contact. Tension built tight in your core, clit throbbing in your underwear. You’re struggling to breathe, head floating further into the clouds with each whimper from Ellie. She giggled hazily, moans sounding between her condescending snickers. She gathered spit in her mouth and allowed it dribble onto one of your breasts. 
S’hitting it s’good! Fuck, I can’t—
Finally, finally, the tentacles choking your legs unraveled and crawled up, closer to your drenched cunt. Just one touch — you need one touch and you’ll cum. Just one, just one, please, please—
Slut needs t’cum? Beg some fuckin’ more, c’mon, Ellie’s moans and shouts in your head were somehow bringing you closer to that peak you desperately craved. 
“Please, El, please, fuck… me— “
“I’m — oh, fuck, yes— “
Your shorts and underwear were being ripped from around your waist, yanking you in all directions. The friction made your walls constrict tight. The harsh suctions on your clit were instantaneous. Finally, finally, finally—
You and Ellie’s moans melted together, colors floating behind your eyelids. The wet sounds from Ellie’s pussy made your peak build in record time, zoning in on her cries. You’re going to cum so hard. It’s almost there, just a little bit more— 
Ellie’s everywhere. In your head, line of blurry vision, on top of you, about to break and shatter. She's so perfect, shrouded in darkness and gloom and desire.
The tentacle suddenly expanded inside her pussy, stretching it wider, massaging all the spots that made her see white. 
“M’gonna fucking cum, s’gonna make me cum— “
You’re so close, you’re close, you’re close. You wordlessly begged her to cum with you. Her knees trembled while her legs begged to close, but she forced them open. Forced herself to take everything, all of it. The tentacle pulsed sporadically inside her, and she crashed. 
Pleasure was snatched away from you in an instant, the suckles on your clit gone. You cried and sobbed for Ellie to make you cum, but she ignored you, her body wracking in pleasure, heavy globs of black slick dribbling from her cunt, right under your tits. 
She rode it out, bouncing on the large appendage before it shrunk to its original size. It jerked inside her a few more times before leaving her completely, more dark, gooey liquid dripping from her pussy. 
She came down slowly, giddy laughs leaving her swollen lips as her walls rippled from the aftershocks. 
“This is gonna be…” she scooped up some of the substance with her razor-like nails before shoving them into your mouth. 
The peculiar twang coated your tastebuds. She continued. 
“So much fun.” 
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You never thought you’d have the chance to kiss Ellie again. 
But you are, and you’re so fucking nervous. 
When you kissed her for the first time, you were confident, impulsive, reckless. Your regret didn’t come until after, but now here you two were, her split tongue messily sliding over yours, your tongue sizzling from the venom coating her mouth. Ellie’s mess seeped into your skin with each jerk of her hips. You’d give anything to touch her. 
Your eyes squeezed shut every time she suckled on your lips, licked up your chin, squeezed her hand over your throat. She’s much more secure this time around; It’s almost enough to get you there. 
Almost. 
You were suddenly yanked back by your hair, head thudding the ground. Ellie seemed deep in thought, eyes distant. 
“You’re a bad kisser.” 
Your lip quivered. Ouch, “S… Sorry…”
“Ellie?” Your throat burned. 
“Yes, dear?”
Her tone made you flinch. Everything you wanted to say left your brain in a cloud of smoke. 
“Am… Am I…?”
“Are youuu…?” She trailed off. Her hand disappeared, lower, before a loud, sticky noise blaring in your head. She sighed happily; Ellie’s touching herself. Right in front of your face. 
Your face is on fire and your shoulders are cramping up. 
“Will… Can I, can I cum?” 
“I don’t know… can you?” She shrugged with a smile. 
Your eyes nearly rolled in annoyance; they would’ve if you weren’t so desperate to be fucked senseless. 
She sat up fully, her wet hand reaching right in between your legs. They nearly clamped shut on her wrist, but more tentacles appeared to hold them open for her. She wasn’t looking at your pussy, but she knew exactly where to touch you. She rubbed her own juices into your clit, a nasty shhlck filling the calm air. 
Tears built in your eyes at the sensitivity, your toes digging into the dirt beneath you. Her thoughtless mumbles were barely registering in your melting brain. Your impending orgasm nearly crashed into you before she stopped. 
Your body tensed and your pleasure dissipated. Sobs left your mouth as you garbled, “E—llie, please, please, no more— “
“Don’t close your legs, I mean it. Take what I give you like a good bitch,” Ellie shimmied down your body, resting in between your legs. The tentacles hooked under your knees and forced them up, holding them right against your chest. You can’t see what Ellie’s doing and she’s silent. 
You wanted to ask what was taking so fucking long—
A loud crack rang through the heavily wooded area, pain searing through your thigh. The stinging sensation brought tears to your eyes, sobbing softly to yourself. 
The sudden flicking against your clit brought tears to your eyes. She’s touching you, finally. Your arms pulled at the veiny tentacles still clamped around your wrist, aches running down to your shoulders at the stiffness. 
Ellie’s fingers were replaced with something much softer, and your body turned to mush. The appendages around your thighs twisted tighter, gripped harder, as the barbs from her tongue caught on your clit. It felt so fucking good; her split muscle moved so quick on your clit; your yelps of her name sound into the crisp air. You’ve been on the verge of cumming this entire time, but you can’t.
Suddenly, her tongue is easing downward, brushing against your perineum. Your hips tried to push down into her muscle, but to no avail. You could feel numbness building in your feet from the restriction. 
Look at this tight little ass, two of her fingers were massaging your other hole, causing you to whimper. 
Yeah? she pressed down harder, Like it right there?
Your head gravely bobbed in approval; you’ve never been touched there, but you crave it now. 
Tiny fucking hole… gotta get you ready, huh?
Her voice is thick and haughty; you’re shivering. 
A glob of spit lands on your ass, the sensitive skin tingling, numbness spreading across the pulsing area. She rubbed it in quickly and gave your hole one last slap. 
Her tongue was back at your cunt; you squealed at the sensation of her tongue slivering past your entrance, walls stretching over her muscle. The soft splinters massaged your walls just right, caressing all the spots inside you and you felt it building — 
Suddenly, her tongue stretched wider, expanded, pressed down on your walls, right on your spot; you were squirting on her tongue seconds later. You couldn’t warn her of your orgasm before you bursted, walls desperately milking her as satisfied shouts escaped your lips, your brain turning to goo. 
“El — mmh! Fuck, yes, rightthere! —“
Sniveled thank yous were pouring from your lips as Ellie fucked into you, your juices coating her face. Bursts of color exploded behind your eyelids. 
You thought you would never come down, but the intensity of your orgasm slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. Your vision was spotty; Ellie slowly pulled out, humming at the squeals that left you. You couldn’t move. 
Suddenly all the tentacles were gone, limbs free and weightlessly plopping onto the ground. Your eyelids fell shut in exhaustion, your heart flooding with longing.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” A light kick on your shoulder. 
Ellie… 
“Get the fuck up. I’m not done,” she snorted coldly. 
Ellie… please…
“What the fuck did I say,” The agitation in her tone rose. 
I’m so sorry… 
“I don’t care,” You were suddenly pushed onto your back, Ellie standing over you, eyes glowing dimly. 
I miss you so much… 
Memories of your past flowed through you, soft sobs shaking your weak form. Ellie deserved… everything good out of life. The purest forms of happiness were destined in her path, and you took it away. You took everything from her, and all you could do was watch what she’s become. What you caused. 
The more you cried, the more disgusted she seemed, eyes growing darker. 
She pounced on you in seconds, nails grasping your bunched sweatshirt and sharp tail tip prepped to end you right then and there, speckles of spit splattering on your face due to her shouts. 
“DON'T!” The dying world around you shook with the bass of her tone. “Don’t you fucking dare!” 
You didn’t fight. You allowed her to berate you, call you every vile name in the book, and digested her wishes of you dying instead of her. Every scream slammed into your chest; you merely laid there, ready to die with love in your chest. 
I love you… I love you… I love you… 
“FUCK YOU, YOU LYING BITCH! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! I’M GONNA KILL YOU— “
Bloody streams fall from Ellie’s eyes, the veins in her head changing from maroon to coal, the veins in her arms darkening as her voice deepened, razorous teeth baring. She sobbed and screamed from above you, wailing how much she hated you. You’re numb. 
The venom from her tail was discharging from the tip. It’s time; it’s your last day alive. You nodded to yourself. You deserve this; You’re ready. You hope your siblings aren’t too saddened by your disappearance. 
Is this the final stage of grief? Your body is lax and accepting, heavy droplets leaving your eyes when they shut. 
I love you… I’m sorry… I love you… 
Another sharp prick went through your shoulder, and darkness enclosed around you. 
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JUNIOR YEAR: 2012
You’re such a dork!
Ellie swears her heart is going to grow legs and crawl up her throat in the next thirty seconds if you keep staring at her like that. She's projecting; She’s the dork!
The few shots she took at the lake were wearing off, and her nerves were finally catching up to her. She was surrounded by your pillows, your stuffies, your scent; she could barely swallow, her throat was so dry. 
You love me. 
She does. Ellie never acted on her swiftly developed crush; she’s not built for rejection, especially from you. The smile on your face was so bright; your joy was so apparent whenever she was around. She hoped her own happiness reflected the same way; Please love me back! Please please please—
Her heart exploded, sewed itself back together, only to explode again when your hand came up, fingertips barely grazing her cheek. She’s going to faint; your touch was so soft. Was she crazy to compare the feel of your hands to rose petals? She tried to keep her nuzzles subtle, pushing her face closer to your hand; Is this how cats feel when they want cuddles? 
You proceeded to explore her face in silent adoration, and she did the same, memorizing every detail she could. The moles on your face were lined like stars. 
She scooted closer to give you more access to her now burning skin, and you kissed her. Ellie was stunned, body stiff; she didn’t have a chance to kiss you back before you pulled away. The scent of alcohol was pouring from you, and Ellie snapped back to reality. 
You’re drunk. You kissed her and you’re drunk. 
You’re probably not going to remember the entire night when you wake the next morning. Ellie’s eyes nervously searched your now downcast face. Say something, you coward! 
But you spoke first. 
You love me, right? 
More than anything, Ellie wanted to scream, not caring if your parents woke up and kicked her out. But she couldn’t. Her brain was moving a million miles a minute, trying to find the words that would satisfy her feelings, but they were too strong. She’s in too deep; Words aren’t enough. 
But you look broken and your body’s tense. She’s putting you on edge and she hates herself for it. 
Do you love me? Your begging tone snapped her out of her head. 
Of course I do, she gasped, mouth gaping like a fish. 
More than anything! More than anything! I love you! 
You only nodded, relaxed back into her, and shut your eyes. 
Ellie went to sleep with a terrible feeling in her stomach, but she held you anyway. 
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Ellie’s weight crushed you as she sobbed into your neck, her cries loud and guttural, the sharp puncture of her horn pressing into the plush of your cheek. Her curses grew weak and quiet, mumbles of I fucking hate you cementing into your skin. 
You simply laid beneath her, unmoving and stunned wordless at the memory — the truth that Ellie exposed to you. Her body jerked on yours as she wailed. 
You hardly noticed the fresh tears rolling down your face. You sniffed, “Ellie…”
She sobbed, her head shaking dismissively. 
“Ellie… Look at me…” You couldn’t move. 
“Fuck you,” her choked murmur was hushed. 
A sad smile grew on your face. 
“Almost did…” 
Ellie sniffed harshly against the burnt skin on your neck, almost touching your bloody shoulder, “What.” She mumbled flatly. 
“Y’know… you almost did fuck me.” 
Some silence passed before a wet snort came from below you. Your grin widened. 
Ellie’s shoulders shook slightly as she snickered into your neck, arching hers slightly to look at you. 
“I should kill you for that, you cunt. You’re not funny.” 
Your body jerked with laughter, and you grimaced at the pain in your shoulder. “That's what you get.” Ellie sat up straight, smile slowly dissipating, eyes glossing over. 
The light moment between you shifted, and sorrow weighed you down like bricks. 
“I fucking loved you,” Ellie whispered harshly. “I wanted you to be happy. And you didn’t fucking care.” Anger was radiating off her, but the dread in her eyes was more telling. “You were… everything to me.” 
The wounds in your heart were overflowing; your efforts of repairing your heart were proved pointless, blood and love and suffering filling your chest to the brim. Quiet sobs were shared between the two of you.
“Please k-kiss me,” Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at your hushed proposal. 
“Just one more. You can do whatever you want… just one last time.” 
You sat up slowly, ignoring the deep aches in your side, your trembling hands cautiously raising to cup Ellie’s frosty cheeks. 
Her face is so close; her lips are right there… just one more, just one—
Ellie’s eyes traveled across your face, lust and years of longing flooding in her tears. Her eyes shut and she leaned forward, her cold lips melding against yours. The kiss was gentle, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried, your tears transferring onto her cheeks. 
Ellie’s hushed tone filled your head. 
I wish I hated you. 
You choked a sob, arms wrapping around her hips to pull her closer, her arms enclosing around your neck, the kiss growing hotter. You needed her closer; so much closer. 
Her tongue slid past your mouth, the split muscle messily flicking over yours as her hips bucked down. You heard loud tears of cloth coming from behind you as Ellie shredded your sweatshirt with her claws, discarding the fabric on the dark heaps of grass. 
She sighed into your mouth when you laid her back onto the grass soaking, crawling on top of her. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to reconnect your mouths, her fangs cutting into your bottom lip. She sucked the injured skin, humming at the metallic taste; your hips bucked down harder to meet hers, and she whimpered. 
Her hands were freezing as they slid down your bare sides, claws pressing into your hips. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you kissed down her neck, soft noises of satisfaction erupting from beneath you. You suckled on her throat, tongue sliding down to her jaw and back up again.
“Can I, fuck, let me do something— “
You moaned in approval, thighs shaking at the sound of her voice, coming back up to press your mouth against hers. 
A heavy gasp left you at the feel of slime dripping onto your thigh. Ellie dug her nails into your hips to steady you, and you whined at the sting. You stared down, entranced at her gleaming eyes, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 
“Hold still.” Ellie’s whisper was strangely comforting, your body relaxing into hers. The light suck on your thigh made you squeak, chuckles releasing from the girl beneath you. 
“And you’ve been doing this for how long?” you jokingly snarked, voice shaky. 
“Meh, six years, nothing crazy,” she replied, shrugging sarcastically. “Just don’t move.” 
Ellie’s hand moved lower, pressing at the end of your spine to deepen the arch in your back. She shushed your eager whimpers, slowly easing your hips back until your cunt brushed against the serpent-like organ. You shuddered and attempted to jerk away at the strange sensation, but Ellie held you still, snorting to herself. 
A sharp gasp escaped your lips at the feel of its tip swirling at your clit, your head dropping onto Ellie’s shoulder. It took mere seconds for the suction to attack your sensitive clit, pleasured moans huffing from your mouth. Ellie’s mouth was right by your ear, her chilled breaths sending shockwaves down your spine. Your clit throbbed under the pressure: how were you already on the verge of cumming? 
“Feels g-good? Yeah?” 
Your walls were squeezing down harshly, desperate to hug and milk something hot through your orgasm. It takes all your strength to lift your head and kiss Ellie, but she does all the work; licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with every slice of her fang. Every pass of her tongue is a pull in your gut, your clit pulsating with vigor. 
She pulled back, just barely, to whisper how excited she is to fuck you, to turn your pussy out, to make you cry.  Your moans were loud and eager, your head bobbing dumbly in compliance with anything she wanted. You’d give her everything you could in this moment. 
Ellie’s in your head, in your senses, in between your thighs, and you’re losing it. She’s reaching at you, tugging at your body in any way she could: scratching at your tits, pulling your hair, clawing into your skin with intent to scar. You’re sure your back is bloody. Her touch is painful; why does it feel so good? 
Your thoughtless head drops yet again as your orgasm is forced out of you, your walls choking the hot air surrounding the two of you. Your wails are muffled along with Ellie’s spat praises, your hips bucking back for more. The pleasure is almost too much and you’ve barely started; She hasn’t even fucked you yet. 
Your juices are pooling out of you, knowingly making a puddle on Ellie’s tummy, her affirmed moans pulling more and more out of you. Your peak is unrelenting, draining every last bit of energy your body has left. Your limbs gave out, your weight crashing on top of Ellie’s. 
She hastily maneuvered you onto your back, the spines of grass puncturing your skin from beneath you as she climbed on top. 
“Your stamina’s fucked.” 
Her winded snide remarks didn’t bother you; you need her to fuck you. You’re sweaty and desperate to feel her everywhere. She wasted no time, reuniting your mouths in an eager kiss as her hands ventured anywhere they could. Your body’s aching, but for some reason, you crave more. More hurt, more pain; You need her to use you. 
The world around you moved like water; unlike your first dream, the waves brought comfort. Ellie’s touch felt like the ocean washing you away, all with effort to finally bring you peace. 
But it didn’t work. You love her; You deserve pain, and you love her. 
Her mouth is on your tits, biting and sucking at your nipples. It feels so good to have her this close; your body’s wet and ready for her to ravish you. 
Ellie scurried down your body, sat on her knees in between your legs, her hands pressed under yours to hold them up. Your thighs are resting on your chest as Ellie dribbles a line of slobber over your soaking lips. Hums fill the space between you as it slides down, right over your entrance. 
Seconds pass as Ellie stares at your cunt; You call out to her by mistake. 
“What.” 
Fuck. “No-nothing. Sorry.”
“You want something. Say it.” 
You shake your head, and she smiles. Raunchy imagery of her fucking your pussy flash across your mind in an instant, and her grin widens. 
You jolt at the sudden slap on your cunt before Ellie presses your legs even higher, knees almost next to your head. You ignore the aching stretch in your limbs and reach to grab your ass cheeks, holding them open for her. Heat spreads across your face when she moans at the sight. 
Oh fuck, Ellie’s whimpering to herself; whining about how good your pussy’s going to feel, how you’re going to swallow her whole, choke her out. Juices are oozing from your cunt with each jerk of your walls. 
A tentacle emerges from the ground, and Ellie’s expression darkens. It’s lecherous; the way she eyes your pussy as the organ slivers closer to your entrance. You couldn’t hold your moans in anticipation of the stretch. It’s right there, swelling and twitching. 
Your head falls back against the sopping grass when your hole grasps the wide, leaking tip, eyes rolling into your head as Ellie’s moans ring deep in your skull. The tentacle is practically melting between your walls as they spasm. 
Ellie’s so loud above you, completely hunched over your form as her body shudders, her lip trapped between her sharp teeth. They must’ve pierced the skin, a thin trail of black liquid dripping all the way down her neck. 
You take it so fuckin’ good, Ellie’s slurring, tongue swelled in her mouth. You’re already peaking, your legs attempting to slam shut at the tight hug of your walls. The organ is suddenly swelling, walls stretching around the girth to trap it as deep as it can go. Tears are running down your face, groans of Ellie’s name melding with your harsh breaths. 
Seconds pass, and the tentacle’s shooting inside, and your head goes blank, your orgasm slamming into you. You're silent as it wrings your body. The intensity is almost painful, like it’s being forced from your body and your cunt’s drained dry: it’s hot inside you where the fluid pools, and your walls are sucking it deeper. 
You didn’t register Ellie falling forward, her body convulsing on yours, screams of how good your cunt is leaving her in a flurry. Her words are gritted and deep and her nails are in your bicep, but the pain only makes you cum harder. 
It’s been minutes, and you’re deadweight, walls twitching around the still jerking organ planted deep inside your guts. No time to recover, though; Ellie’s pulling out, a nasty sound echoing at her departure as cum seeps — drenches the grass under you. It’s never-ending and sticky and you need more. 
Ellie’s already up and moving you onto your stomach, your cheek pressed against the dirt. She’s hasty, spitting on your cunt with a fiery just a dumb slut, huh? You nod, squeezing your walls to push more cum out. There are heavy suctions on your back, forcing blood to the surface at the curve of your spine. Followed by a sharp stabbing on your ass cheek. 
Ellie’s mouth is on your supple skin, and the blood in your ass rushes to the surface. Her fangs are locked into you as she empties the veins in your ass. 
You couldn’t even scream, eyes squeezing shut at the searing pain as your walls release more cum. Ellie hums: another bite. More blood’s leaving you, being sucked from your ass, your thighs, the end of your spine, but it’s not enough. You need more. Ellie’s draining you but it’s not nearly enough. 
Another tentacle presses in once more, and your vision’s blurring; there’s another tentacle sucking at your ass, your eyes crossing at the stimulation of both your holes. Ellie’s nails are breaking the skin of your back, dribbles of blood sliding down your sides and into the dirt. You love her and you love it; everything feels so warm and full and good. 
Ellie’s chides are making you wetter; your thighs won’t stop shaking, she sounds so sexy. Every shockwave in your brain is memorizing every word, every syllable. She's babbling about how she might spare, keep you trapped here forever so she can drain your blood through your pussy, suck you dry, and it gets you there again. 
Ellie — m’cu—cumming!
You don’t know what you’re saying; voice muffled against the dirt, tears and snot running down your face while you squeal like a pig. Ellie’s calling you one as you squirt on her, just a dumb, worthless pocketpussy; The smile on your face is stupid as your walls drain her while she throbs inside you. You’re so stuffed with her cum already, but you need more inside you. You feel so fucking good and the pleasure won’t seize. 
It picks up again as the thrusts get faster, hitting you deeper, just where you need it. You don’t get to recover before you’re slung into another mind-numbing orgasm, your body wracking without rest. Ellie’s massaging every spot that makes your spine break, dirt collecting under your nails as they puncture the ground. Your groans are cracking in your throat; You can’t even swallow. 
The tentacle’s swelling again, and Ellie’s hand is on the back of your head, pressing your cheek against the grass, nails scratching at your scalp as you beg for her cum. Her moans are picking up again, demanding that you beg some more, that you fucking cry for it, be a good girl a bleed for me. And you do. 
As messily as you can; slobber pooling at your mouth as you sob and choke for her cum, eyes crossed in your skull as your tongue lolls, and Ellie’s shooting in you again, stuffing you to the brim as she cries your name from behind, grunts leaving her with each rope of cum seeps in your womb. 
Your pussy’s melting around her when the sucking at your ass pauses, only to push in the incredibly tight space, to stretch your virgin hole open around its girth. It should hurt, having both holes filled to such a wild degree, but it doesn’t. Your weak arm is reaching behind, desperately grabbing at Ellie. You expect her to smack you away, to hit you, to slice your hand clean off your wrist, but she doesn’t; You almost miss the light touch, her pinky lacing with yours. 
You’re joyous, head dropping as you sob from pleasure and happiness, heart filled with a love that you never thought you’d feel again. 
She’s drilling your ass, fucking you so hard and good as she holds your smallest finger with hers, kissing down your bloody back, licking up the scarlet that leaks from your skin. Suddenly, another tentacle — much smaller than the ones tearing your holes up — emerges from the ground, right in front of your face, its juices leaking onto your cheeks. 
It wiggles in front of your open mouth before shoving in; the taste is salty and metallic, but your lips work it, sucking and licking all around the length. You feel so filthy and it’s making your tummy tug, another orgasm building in your pussy and ass. It’s going to shatter you completely from its strength, you can feel it. 
Your body’s aching for more cum; you’re surprised it’s not coming spilling from your throat and onto the appendage in your mouth. But Ellie’s close, every whisper becoming more frantic as she rides that edge. 
You’re mine, she whispers in your ear, Fucking mine, you understand? You’re not going anywhere. 
You get it, you get it! You’re never leaving her again. Fuck everything you’ve built for yourself! Your life is pointless without Ellie next to you. You’re going to cum so hard for her. 
Your body’s hers; Your heart is hers; your soul is hers. You love her, you love her! 
Baby likes that? I own this fucking pussy? 
She knows she does: whispers so gross and conniving and you’re twitching under her. You’re babbling around the swelling appendage, telling her — screaming that you belong to her, you always have. You always will! 
You feel her teeth as she grins madly in satisfaction, sloppily mumbling mine mine s’ my pussy against your skin as she swells inside you. You’re stretching, gaping around her and you snap, head planting into the dirt. Both sets of walls clamp down sporadically around the large digits between them, the tentacle slipping from your mouth as you scream. 
Ellie’s exploding inside both holes, the tentacle above you spraying all over your face, heavy globs of cum landing in your hair, the back of your neck, splattering on your mouth, anywhere it could reach. Juices are spraying from between you, and Ellie falls forward, her freezing chest on your back as she jerks on top of you. Hearing her just as destroyed from the pleasure sends another surge of euphoria through you, somehow stronger than the first. 
You can barely take it, but Ellie makes you, continues flooding your holes until they’re overflowing and sticky. You’re both sent to another plane as you convulse together, her pinky still locked with yours as you lose consciousness. 
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When you wake, there’s warmth. 
You’re still filled to the brim with cum, but your form is blanketed. Small, tired huffs hit your back as Ellie shivers on top of you, barely audible noises alerting her satisfaction. You smile. 
You can't move; all your strength is used to wiggle the cramped muscle of your interlocked finger. Tears well in your eyes when Ellie’s finger hugs yours tighter with every small movement. 
Ellie’s the blanket; Ellie’s warm. 
Suddenly, everything around you is pink, the formerly empty spaces in your heart filled with affection. You missed Ellie so much; You’re finally reunited, and in love. You can’t stop smiling, and neither can she. 
‘BREAKING NEWS: BAKERY OWNER FOUND DECAPITATED IN MOTEL BED’
Today marks one of the most heart-wrenching, horrifying days that our community has ever seen, the local reporter stated. We have never witnessed a case end this disastrous. 
To the loved ones of this individual, we share our deepest condolences. The victim made such a large impact on our tiny town with her small business. Nobody… the reporter sighed, Nobody could’ve seen this coming. 
Please be on the lookout for any updates regarding the suspect. Investigators are putting as much effort into this case as they can. Police suggest staying indoors with your loved ones this holiday until further instructions. 
May God be with her family. Have a blessed night. 
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idk how to use picsart sorry yall LOL
taggiesss ily thank u 4 being patient :D :
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matchingbatbites · 1 month
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somehow we're here
Explicit | 6.5k | Modern AU | Full Tags + Read on Ao3
Steve only downloaded the app because he was drunk. 
At least, that’s what he’ll tell himself in the morning, once he’s back in the light of day and not half-gone on a few fruity cocktails and multiple shots of tequila - at least three, though it’s realistically more like five or six. Nevermind that he’s been home for almost an hour at this point, is only still awake because of the vague nausea still rolling in his stomach. 
It had been incredibly easy to set up an account, even in his drunken state - something he thinks might be a feature and not a bug - and he’s been scrolling on it for about ten minutes when he realizes-
He’s still bored.
Because that had been the real reason, hadn’t it?
Steve is bored. Bored of first dates that seem to go nowhere, of relationships that seem to fizzle out after a few weeks, and for whatever reason, Tequila Steve seems convinced that a gay dating app would be a fun thing to sign up for. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s just bored and kind of horny and definitely not lonely and desperate.
So Steve flips through profiles, taking in photos of the same waifish boys and beefy gym bros. He’s just about ready to give up and try to sleep through the nausea, when he stumbles across a profile that makes him stop cold. 
The photo looks like it’s from a concert or something; the guy is on a stage, clearly mid-show, with a wicked looking guitar in his hands. Steve’s eyes get caught on those hands, the veins and the painted nails and the chunky, silver rings. 
His hair is a riot of dark curls haloed by the stage lights, and Steve regrets that he isn’t able to see the man’s face. He focuses instead on his clothes, the black t-shirt and ripped jeans, his exposed forearms littered with black ink. 
The photo is so honest. It’s pure, simple emotion and Steve is instantly drawn in, eager to know more about this person.
The next photo is closer, clearly cropped down from a larger picture, and Steve gets his first good look at the man’s beautiful face. Deep, chocolate eyes that house a delighted sparkle, a blinding smile that sets loose a swarm of butterflies in Steve’s stomach. Not to mention the piercings; two just below his lower lip and another through his eyebrow - Steve briefly wonders if he has more, maybe his tongue or his nipples - fuck, that would be so hot.
In the last photo the man is seated on a couch, holding an acoustic guitar this time, and he seems focused on whatever he’s playing, clearly unaware of the camera-person at all. Those brown curls are pulled into an updo, revealing ears littered with even more silver jewelry, and there’s a cute little crinkle between his brows that Steve wants to smooth out with his thumb.
Steve scrolls down to actually read the guy’s profile, and sees that his name is Eddie. He’s 27 and local to the area, he likes metal music and D&D, and he definitely seems to check a lot of Steve’s boxes. Nerdy? Yeah. Hot? Fuck yeah. Confident? If the concert photo is anything to go by, this man has confidence coming out his ass. So yeah, check there too. 
He adds the guy without hesitation, and will once again blame Tequila Steve for what’s next once he’s sober. He sends Eddie a message.
‘Hi, i’m straight, i literally just got this app cause im kinda bord and kinda drunk. But you’re actually my type. Can I be honest?’
Steve doesn’t really expect an immediate response, considering that it’s two in the morning and all, so he decides to flip over to a different app, already knowing that he isn’t really going to care about anyone else he might come across. He’s surprised when only a couple of minutes later, he gets back a simple ‘Sure lmao’, and scrambles to flip back over to the messenger.
‘I didint think i’d message anyone on here but your cute and hnestly i geuss i kinda like that you won’t get pregnant.’
He decides to wait this time, to see if he’ll get another quick response, and he holds his breath when the typing indicator pops up, only to disappear again. It does this a couple of times, like Eddie is writing and pausing, or erasing and starting over, and Steve just waits, so curious to know what the other man is going to say.
‘Are you free tomorrow? I need to know if you’re as adorably endearing when you’re sober.’
Steve gasps in delight. Eddie wants to meet him! He kicks his feet a little in excitement and messages back ‘I can be as endering as you want me to be baby.’ It takes him a second to realize he hadn’t actually answered Eddie’s question, and he sends a follow up ‘Yes i am free tomorow.’
‘Meet me at Hank’s on 6th? 7pm?’
He confirms the time and place, and even as giddy as he is, Steve’s barely able to exchange a few more messages before he’s out like a light.
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Steve wakes up the next morning with a headache. It’s nowhere near the level of one of his migraines, but it’s enough to be annoying as he gets up and starts his day. He’s thankful it’s Saturday, that all he really has to worry about are some errands and brunch with Robin.
A quick shower and a cup of coffee has him feeling more alive, but meeting up with Robin makes him feel better than anything else could. She looks about as bad as he does, which is interesting considering that she didn’t even come with him to the club last night. 
They chatter on for a while, with Steve letting her rant again about the situation she finds herself in (she refuses to drop Vickie even though the girl bounces between her on-again-off-again boyfriend and Robin like a fucking ping pong ball, and she also refuses to admit her growing feelings for Chrissy, her roommate turned friend with benefits. It’s a whole mess.)
She asks about his own dating life, and he honestly has nothing new to report. He’d gone out last night intending to at least find someone to take home, but once he actually got into the scene, the effort just didn’t seem worth it for a temporary fix. 
Instead he drank, and he danced with strangers until the room started to spin, and then he made his way home. He’d had fun, even though he'd ended his night alone. Robin hums and pours another drink from the pitcher between them - White Peach Sangria this week, and it’s good, though Steve prefers the Bloody Mary they had last time. 
“We're kind of pathetic, huh?”
“I mean, you are,” Steve replies, and shrugs when she gives an affronted Hey! “I might be single, but you're the one who's letting a great girl slip through your fingers because you can’t say no to your fickle ex.”
“She’s not fickle-”
“Where was she last night?” Steve asks, staring Robin down until she says “With me.”
“Mhm. And where is she now?”
Robin frowns hard and grumbles “With Jack.” 
Steve gives her a look, and she sinks down a little in her seat. 
“You know, sometimes I forget that you were friends with the mean girls in high school, and then you hit me with that fucking Carol Perkins face and it all comes flooding back,” she says, and Steve rolls his eyes. 
“Stop being a drama queen, and stop waiting for Vickie to change her mind about Jack. It’s not fair for her to come running to you every time they have a fight if she has no intention of actually leaving him for you. You deserve better, Rob.”
Robin groans and drains the last of her glass. “When did you get so wise and shit?”
“Fuck you,” Steve says, no heat behind it as he kicks her under the table. “I know how relationships work and shit. You’re the one who doesn’t listen to me.”
She kicks him back with a “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s finish this pitcher so I can go home and wallow.”
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The notification comes in after brunch, once he and Robin have parted ways and Steve’s just parked at the grocery store (he doesn’t take Robin with him to the store anymore, for both of their sakes). 
‘Hey, just want to make sure we’re still good for tonight?’
Tonight? What’s tonight?
It takes him a moment to remember his actions from the night before, to remember the app. Steve’s stomach flips at the vague memory of a conversation and he opens the messenger. He scrolls up, reading his message history with this Eddie person, and oh god. 
Is it possible to get secondhand embarrassment from your own actions? Your very drunk and somewhat horny actions? The guy seemed to take it pretty well, at least, and Steve taps over to his profile out of curiosity.
And yeah, okay, Tequila Steve had a point. He’s never thought about dating a guy before, but this man is hot, just absolutely sexy in a way Sober Steve isn’t prepared for. He had been planning on telling this Eddie guy that he was drunk when he agreed to meet, that he wasn’t interested, but now that would be a lie. Because he’s definitely interested.
He sends a ‘Yup! Still good :)’ and then quickly follows it with ‘I was so drunk last night that I kind of forgot about our conversation, so I’m glad you messaged me!’
Eddie’s reply takes a second, that starting and stopping going on just long enough to make Steve nervous before a message comes through. 
‘Oh damn! I’m glad I did too. Though you did tell me last night that you’re straight, so I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to meet anymore. I know alcohol can make us do things we normally wouldn’t.’
Oh, he’s sweet. Steve actually does decide to think about it, and flips back over to Eddie’s profile as he does. He goes through the photos again, imagines what it would be like to be close, be intimate with Eddie the way he has with women. It doesn’t scare him the way he thinks it should, because he doesn’t actually think it would be that different. Sex is just sex, right? It’s the person that makes it fun, makes it special. And Eddie definitely seems like a special one.
What reaffirms Steve’s decision is the last photo, where Eddie is holding the acoustic. His eyes catch again on those ringed fingers, on the rough, clearly hand cut neckline of Eddie’s shirt. He thinks about what it would be like to lick the jut of Eddie’s exposed collar bone, and the shiver that runs down his spine has him immediately flipping back to the conversation.
‘I definitely still want to meet. As embarrassing as I was last night, I was telling the truth.’
‘Oh good! Nice to know that sober Steve also thinks I’m cute and is glad I can’t get pregnant.’
Steve groans and drops his head onto the steering wheel a few times. He's never gonna live that one down, is he?
Another message comes through before he can be too mortified, though he almost regrets looking when he sees ‘Unless sober Steve is more upset by that than glad’ which is followed rapidly by ‘It’s okay baby, we can always pretend if you want ;)’
This man is gonna fucking kill Steve.
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Hank's on 6th is a little dive bar that Steve has actually been to a few times, when he and Robin had wanted to go drinking but hadn’t wanted to deal with the noise and bustle of the club. It’s cozy compared to other bars in the area, and Steve is happy for the familiarity of the location as he steps inside. He pauses inside the door and glances around, looking for- oh.
Sitting at a nearby table is Eddie, in the flesh. He’s even more stunning in person, with his hair pulled up into a bun, showing off the jewelry in his ears and the long line of his neck. He’s wearing a dark t-shirt and jeans, and Steve can see a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair.
Eddie spots Steve about the same time and waves, inviting him over. He does his own once-over as Steve approaches, and Steve knows what he looks like. He spent long enough in front of the mirror agonizing over his appearance, making sure everything was perfect. His red sweater is comfortable even though it’s a smidge too small, and he can see Eddie’s eyes catch on the way it stretches across his shoulders, on his forearms where he’s rolled the sleeves up. 
“Not gonna lie,” Eddie says as Steve sits down. “I’m kind of surprised you showed up.”
“I said I would. Tequila Steve might not be the smartest, but sometimes he has good ideas.”
Eddie laughs and Steve is overwhelmed with the desire to dig his thumb into the dimple that appears in the man’s cheek. “Well I hope I get the chance to thank him someday.”
Eddie’s photos don’t do him justice, don’t properly convey the energy he has. They get on better than Steve would have imagined, and while the conversation lulls every now and then, it never truly stops. His piercings catch the light, pulling Steve's attention down to his mouth, to the way it moves while Eddie speaks. It’s distracting, and the teasing smile Eddie wears for the conversation tells Steve that he knows.
Steve learns that Eddie works at an assisted living facility, something he never would have guessed based on the man’s appearance. It’s not a job Eddie ever expected to have, but he loves it, loves helping people who need it and gossiping with the old biddies that have taken a shine to him. In exchange Steve talks about his job as a physical therapist, how he recently started his experiential hours so he can specialize in pediatrics. 
(“I feel kind of dumb now,” Eddie says. “Knowing that you’re a whole ass doctor and I just have a CNA.”
“Eddie, I majored in kinesiology. You’re probably better in a medical setting than I ever will be.”)
They talk about their hobbies and interests, pleased to learn there’s a little bit of crossover with everything. They may not know the ins and outs, but Steve has absorbed some knowledge on D&D thanks to the kids he used to babysit, and Eddie likes to watch sports with his uncle to keep him company on his off days.
They sit and talk for a long while, completely unaware of the time passing until Steve looks at his watch and realizes it’s been nearly four hours since they sat down. 
“Holy shit, it’s almost eleven,” he says, and Eddie blinks in surprise. “Oh wow, I had no idea.” 
It’s like they’ve been snapped back into reality, and Steve notices the half dozen beer bottles littering their table along with the bill that’s been there for who knows how long. Steve pays the check - nearly shoves his card into the server’s hand so he can beat Eddie to it - and they both leave cash for the tip before heading out of the bar.
It’s outside Hank’s that the hesitation sets in. This is one of the best dates Steve has been on in a long, long time, and he really isn’t ready for it to be over. He thinks Eddie feels the same, if the way he reaches over to thread their fingers together means anything.
“Do you want to come back to my place?” Steve asks, practically on impulse, and Eddie smiles.
“I would love to, Stevie.” He takes a breath like he wants to say something else, but pauses, and Steve squeezes his hand gently.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to tell you that I want to have sex with you without sounding like a slut who puts out on the first date.”
Well, that’s fair. Steve doesn’t usually have sex on the first date either. He likes the connection that comes with knowing someone emotionally before learning them physically, but there’s just something about Eddie. Steve feels like he knows the man inside and out after just four hours together, and he knows it’s fast but he wonders what it would feel like to wake up next to him in the morning. 
Steve just grins at the blunt honesty and tugs Eddie closer. “If you’re a slut then so am I, because I’m definitely down for that.” 
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The drive back to Steve’s place doesn’t take long, and before he knows it he’s locking the door behind them as Eddie sheds his leather jacket. He drapes it over the back of the couch as he looks around, taking in Steve’s apartment. It’s not much, but it’s comfortable, cozy, very different from the sterile house Steve grew up in.
Eddie smiles as he sees the trinkets dotted about, a mix of gifts from the kids Steve used to babysit and his own little knick knacks, but pauses when he sees a photo collage of Steve and Robin on the nearby wall. Steve doesn’t like the way his smile dips down into a frown, and he walks over to wrap his arm around Eddie’s waist.
“That’s Robin,” he says as he pulls Eddie into his side, needing to quell any doubts or misconceptions he might be having. “She’s my best friend in the entire world, and a lesbian, so you can stop pouting now.”
Eddie gives him a bit of a side-eye and says “Not pouting. Just want to make sure you’re not doing this behind the back of an unsuspecting girlfriend or something.”
Steve smiles at the consideration and shakes his head as he turns Eddie to face him. “No girl, Eds, I promise. Just you and me.”
Something about that seems to be the final straw for Eddie because he surges forward, hands landing on Steve's neck as he leans up to press their mouths together.
The first kiss with Eddie is easy. It’s not earth-shattering or life changing, not like Steve thought it would be kissing a man for the first time. It feels like a normal kiss, and honestly that’s more of a comfort to Steve than anything. The fact that it’s Eddie on the other side of the kiss is what makes him shudder, makes him press closer. 
Eddie’s hands push up into his hair, messing up the styling as Steve dips his head to kiss along his jaw. He hums into smooth skin and slides his own hands down to Eddie’s ass, squeezing it briefly before using his grip to drag Eddie’s hips against his own.
He can feel the line of Eddie’s dick through the layers of denim and yeah, that’s different, but not bad at all. Steve warms up to it pretty quickly actually, especially once Eddie starts moaning into his ear, a low “Fuck, baby,” that only encourages Steve to continue. Their mouths meet in another kiss as Steve grinds their hips together, each thrust working to drive Steve absolutely insane.
Eddie’s hands eventually make their way south to ruck up Steve’s sweater, and he breaks the kiss just enough to mutter “Off, get this off,” against Steve's mouth.
Steve laughs but steps back, pulls off his top and drops it carelessly to the floor. Eddie groans and reaches out, not even hesitating before he pushes his hands into Steve’s chest hair. “God, I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw your photo last night,” he mutters, and it takes Steve a moment to remember the picture he’d drunkenly added to his profile. 
It was just a typical shirtless thirst shot he’d taken before a run one day (though he had put a shirt on before he actually left, thank you), because he’d felt good about the way he looked - and clearly Eddie had appreciated the picture as well. Steve shudders as Eddie scrapes his nails down his chest, and he half-expects Eddie to start purring in delight. 
“Is it as good as you imagined?” he asks, biting back a chuckle, and Eddie nods. 
“Better than. So fuckin’ hot. Don't ever shave it, I beg you.”
Steve does laugh at that. He lets Eddie get his fill for a moment before swooping in to kiss him again. He slips his fingers into Eddie’s belt loops and mutters a “Bed?” against his mouth. Eddie hums in agreement and Steve tugs him along, guiding him to the bedroom and only stopping once to grind their hips together.  
He steps back enough to pull off Eddie’s shirt and groans because his nipples are pierced, and fuck if that isn’t doing something for Steve. Thumbing over one makes Eddie shiver and gasp, and he knows that he needs to get his mouth on them as soon as possible. He feels like a predator as he pushes Eddie back, not stopping until the man is sprawled across his bed, a beautiful feast meant just for him.
Steve crawls on top of Eddie and presses his lips to the spider decorating his shoulder before moving down to lick over his nipple. Eddie shudders and pushes his hands into Steve's hair, holding him in place as Steve seals his mouth around the pink bud. The piercing is warm, and the stark contrast between metal and flesh has Steve groaning into Eddie's skin.
He sucks on it, earning a stuttering moan from the man under him and hands tightening in his hair. “Fu-uck, Stevie.” Steve thumbs over the other nipple and pinches it just to hear him gasp again, before continuing his journey southwards, pressing kisses into the tattoos he comes across along the way. He pauses for a moment to suck a bruise into Eddie’s hip, just above his waistband, and the man is practically squirming.
“God, when I agreed to come over, I didn’t think you were gonna be this much of a tease.”
Steve rolls his eyes and bites into the bruise he just created, pulling a low groan from Eddie. “It’s called foreplay, you ass.”
“I’d rather you foreplay my ass,” Eddie mutters, and Steve laughs into smooth skin. He does concede, though, and pulls back so he can slide off Eddie’s jeans and underwear, discarding them to the floor. Eddie’s dick is pretty, a smidge thinner than his own but just as long, and weeping heavily from the pink tip. Steve wants to touch it, taste it, wants to feel the weight of it on his tongue as Eddie fucks his mouth.
“Feel free to touch it, not just look at it,” Eddie says, and Steve smirks. 
“Normally I would, but someone wanted me to skip the foreplay.”
Eddie groans dramatically in response and Steve ignores him as he reaches over into the nightstand to grab the lube and a condom. He drops the items next to Eddie, and the man gives an “Oh shit!” as he grabs the tube. “You actually have lube?” 
“Uh, I'm a grown man, Eddie. Not some 15-year-old that still uses lotion to jack off.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and smacks the bottle against Steve's chest. “Twenty-four hours ago you told me you were straight, excuse me for making some assumptions.”
“Stereotypical assumptions,” Steve tacks on and Eddie rolls his eyes again harder. “Also you might be surprised to learn this, but some women also enjoy anal, so I'm not actually a complete newbie when it comes to this.”
“And here I was thinking I'd have to hold your hand through the whole thing.”
Steve huffs a laugh and slicks up his fingers. “Oh, do you not want to hold hands while I fuck you into the mattress?”
Eddie gasps and brings a hand to his forehead, like a mockery of some swooning maiden as he says “Why Stevie, I think that's the most romantic thing you've said so- ohhh my god.” He groans as Steve pushes the finger deeper, and kicks his shoulder gently when Steve just grins.
“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie spits, but Steve can tell there's no real heat behind it. He just hums, says “I dunno what you're talking about,” as he slides a second in alongside the first. He hooks his free hand under Eddie’s knee and pushes it closer to his chest, exposing him a bit more. 
Steve leans down to press a kiss to Eddie’s neglected dick and curls his fingers at the same time, trying to hit Eddie’s prostate. He knows he’s successful when hands jerk down, sinking into his hair once more as Eddie keens.
“Shit, Stevie-!” 
“Wanna suck you off next time. Wanna pin your hips to the bed and see how much I can take, wanna tease you until you come on my face, in my mouth.”
Eddie shudders and nods, bucks his hips as best he can with Steve’s fingers in him. “Oh fuck, yes. Gonna let me paint your face, baby? Gonna let me be the first cock to fuck that pretty mouth?”
Steve groans a “Fuck yeah, Eds,” and pushes in a third finger, eager to finish his prep but not wanting to rush. He spreads his fingers wide as he leans in again, sinking his teeth into the junction where thigh meets groin, and Eddie's entire body jerks at the bit of pain.
He tugs at Steve's hair, trying to pull him up as he says “Fuck! That's gotta be good enough, need you in me fucking last week, sweetheart.”
Steve shudders and nods with a “Yeah, baby,” as he pulls his fingers free. He stands up and strips off his remaining clothes, not worrying about where they land before he climbs back between Eddie's legs. He can feel Eddie watching as he rolls on the condom, and he's about to make a remark about it when the man says “You know what kind of sucks?”
Steve just hums in response as he scoots closer, until his thighs are pressed against Eddie's ass and all he has to do is push forward just a little more-
“That we’ll have to get tested before we can put my ability to not get pregnant to good use.”
A groan rips through Steve and he drops his head back at the mental image that creates. “Fuck, you can’t just say that.”
Eddie grins, all Cheshire and taunting as he says “Oh, I can’t? I can’t tell you how excited I am for you to come in me, to fill up my ass until I’m fucking leaking- mmh!”
Steve dives down to shut him up with a kiss before he can say anything else, and he can feel Eddie laughing into it. Arms wrap around Steve’s shoulders, holding him close as they take a moment to just make out, all slick and languid like they're not both on the verge of desperation. Steve wraps a hand around his dick and blindly rubs the head against Eddie’s hole before he finally pushes forward.
Even after prep, Eddie is tight, and Steve groans as he slowly sinks in, not stopping until his hips are flush with Eddie’s ass. He rubs his hands over Eddie’s sides as he just waits there, giving the man a chance to adjust. It only takes a moment before Eddie gives a soft “Okay, I'm good,” and Steve holds good on his word. He leans forward, lacing his fingers with Eddie's and pressing them into the bed as he starts a slow pace.
Eddie goes all starry-eyed as he glances at their joined hands, and mutters “Didn't think you were serious about that.”
“I don't joke about hand holding, Eds. It's very important.” That pulls a soft laugh from Eddie and Steve leans closer until he can kiss that smile, can taste the laugh at its source.
It's hands down the best sex Steve has ever had. Eddie is so responsive, all noisy and twitchy and eager. He quickly figures out what Steve likes and doesn't even attempt to keep his mouth shut, just offers a stream of encouragement that’s only broken when Steve finds and abuses that sweet spot inside him.
“Right there, Eddie? Is that it, baby?”
“Uh-huh, fuck, so good!”
Eddie's a fucking vision, with his brown curls slowly escaping the confines of the bun and his eyes glazed over in pleasure. Steve releases Eddie's hands and slides his own down to clutch at the man's slim waist, his fingers digging into the tattoos decorating his skin. He fantasizes about leaving bruises, about leaving his own mark alongside the black ink and fucks into him harder at just the idea. 
“Shit, Stevie! Gonna come, gonna-”
Eddie gets a hand around his dick and barely gets in a few strokes before he’s coming, a loud “Fuckfuckfuck!” escaping him as he spills over his hand and onto his stomach. It’s so fucking hot, and Steve’s hands tighten around Eddie's waist at the sight. His thrusts are a bit wild as he chases his own orgasm, and all it takes is Eddie's reedy “In me, Steve, give it to me-” before it hits him like a fucking truck. 
He doesn't remember the last time he came this hard, his hips grinding against Eddie's ass as he fills the condom before eventually collapsing down onto the other man. They just lay there for a moment, waiting for their highs to settle and their breathing to return to normal, and Steve smiles when Eddie starts to giggle.
“What's that about?” he asks, using the opportunity to press a few kisses along the line of Eddie's shoulder and neck. The man just grins and shakes his head.
“I haven't bottomed in like- three years. Forgot how good it feels.”
That surprises Steve a bit, actually. “Three years? And you just break that streak for some random person you met on the internet?”
“Mhm. You sent me those messages and I was like ‘Wow, I can't believe I'm gonna let this guy fuck me’.”
Steve laughs and nips at Eddie's shoulder. After a few minutes he carefully pulls out and reluctantly leaves Eddie on the bed as he goes to the bathroom to trash the condom and grab a wet hand towel. He cleans Eddie up before tossing the cloth to the floor and laying down beside him. He's instantly wrapped up in Eddie's arms and he sighs happily as they huddle close together.
“Stay the night? I'll make you breakfast in the morning,” Steve offers, and Eddie hums into his temple. 
“With coffee?”
“With coffee.”
Another hum before Eddie nuzzles into his hair, and Steve can feel Eddie press a kiss to the crown of his head. “Then I'd love to stay the night, Stevie.”
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Steve wakes up slowly the next morning. The sun shining through the window bathes the room in golden light, making Eddie look ethereal where he lays curled into Steve’s side. He takes a moment to just watch the man, to admire the relaxed lines of Eddie’s face as he slumbers on, unaware.
He doesn’t know the last time he felt a connection with someone this- profound. 
Actually, no - the last time this happened was probably with Robin, the girl who became something closer to him than a sister, the one person who probably knows him better than he knows himself. Being with Eddie feels so similar to those early days with Robin - after they’d gotten locked in the bathroom during a mall fire, not the actual early days when Robin seemingly hated him.
So Steve knows deep in his soul that there’s something about Eddie. Something so special ingrained into his very existence, and Steve’s sure that, if he just gives it a chance, Eddie could change his life.
After a few more minutes of basking in the morning silence, he tries to slip out of bed without waking Eddie, but he knows he’s failed when the arms just tighten around him. Eddie groans out a “Noooo,” and Steve grins. He presses a kiss to Eddie’s hair and says “Gotta let me go if you want me to make your coffee.”
A muffled “Man of my dreams,” as Eddie releases him has Steve chuckling as he climbs out of bed. He throws on a pair of sweatpants and heads downstairs, and puts on some coffee before he does anything else. By the time Eddie joins him, dressed only in his boxers from the night before, the coffee is ready and Steve is stacking pancakes onto a couple of plates. 
Eddie seems more awake as he wraps his arms around Steve, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder along with a soft “Morning, sweetheart.”
“Morning, baby. Coffee’s on the counter, sugar’s in the jar and milk is in the fridge if you want it.”
Another kiss meets his skin, this one just below his ear, before Eddie is pulling away. Steve finishes plating the pancakes while Eddie makes his coffee, and they converge at the kitchen island. They eat mostly in silence, but it's not uncomfortable. It's easy, actually, to let the quiet settle around them like a warm blanket. But that doesn't mean Steve's thoughts aren't racing.
“So, uh.” Steve pauses, feels almost bashful as he looks up at Eddie. “It's been a really, really long time since I've felt a connection like this, and I may be a little dumb, but I'm not an idiot.” Eddie frowns at Steve's little self deprecating dig, but doesn't say anything as he continues. “I really want to see where this goes, if you're up for it.”
A slow grin breaks out on Eddie's face and he leans in, getting into Steve's personal space. “Why Stevie. Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? After only one date?”
Steve huffs a laugh and slides a hand up to the base of Eddie's neck, feeling and tangling his fingers with the soft hair there. “I’d ask you right now to move in if it wouldn't make me look fucking insane.”
Eddie's expression instantly goes slack with shock, and fuck, Steve's done it again, hasn't he? Said too much, too soon, and lost something good before it even had a chance to go anywhere. He starts to pull away, wanting to give Eddie some space, but he's stopped by two hands settling on his waist, practically clutching the bare skin.
“My lease is up for renewal in three months,” Eddie says, and Steve blinks in surprise. “So maybe at that point we can see where we are? Because you're right. I don't think I've ever just clicked with someone like this before. It feels like- like fucking destiny or something. And I also really, really want to see where this goes.”
Steve gives in to the urge to pull Eddie forward into a kiss. It’s intense and passionate and a bit sticky, the maple syrup making their lips tacky and causing Eddie to giggle into Steve's mouth.
They’re interrupted by the sound of Steve’s phone ringing with a video call, and he knows who it is before he even looks at the device. He answers with a “Morning, Robin,” and is met with a manic “You’ll never guess what happened this morning!”
“I would hope something with Chrissy, but I’m guessing it’s something with Vickie-”
“Vickie called! Jack fucking proposed to her last night!”
Oh shit. “And she said..?”
“They’re on good terms right now, so of course she said yes!”
Steve takes a sip of coffee and hums. “Sounds like it’s time for you to put on some big girl panties and ask Chrissy out on a real date.”
“Steven, you know I hate that word.”
“I will record it and set it as your ringtone if you don’t make some kind of move, Robin. Before Chrissy gets tired of waiting for you to make a decision and makes one herself.”
She groans pathetically and Steve watches her scrub a hand over her face. “I hate it when you make sense. Can we stop talking about me, please? Distract me with something else.”
“Oh, well, uh,” Steve glances up at Eddie who has been watching the interaction with an amused smile. His heart swells with affection and he blurts out “I have a boyfriend.”
Eddie beams at him as Robin blinks, most likely processing before she says “You just told me yesterday that your dating life was practically nonexistent, and now you have a boyfriend? How did that happen?? And moreover, how long have you liked men??”
She sounds incredulous - rightfully so, honestly - and Steve shrugs. “At least twenty-four hours, but it could realistically be closer to something like thirty-six. I downloaded a dating app the night before last and met Eddie on it. We went on a date last night, he stayed over, and I asked him to be my boyfriend this morning.”
“You asked me to move in this morning,” Eddie says, and Robin must catch it because she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 
“You’re gonna put every U-haul lesbian in this city to shame,” she mutters before looking at Steve again. “Are you not like- freaking out? I mean, in the near decade I’ve known you, you’ve only dated girls, and now you’re dating a guy? Just like that?”
Steve shrugs and reaches out to take one of Eddie’s hands. “I guess so. You know I’ve always been a roll with the punches kinda guy. And Eddie is- Special. He’s special.”
Eddie is looking at him with those big, brown eyes, wide and a bit awestruck, and Steve can’t resist reeling him close for a quick kiss.
“I am so happy for you,” Robin says, pulling Steve’s attention back to his phone, “but also incredibly upset because now I know I have to follow your advice about Chrissy. Which is just absolutely terrifying.”
“You should have been listening from the beginning. Seriously though, go get your girl, Rob. You deserve to be happy.”
They say their goodbyes after another moment and Steve focuses back on Eddie. “Did you have anything to do today?” he asks as he collects their empty plates and takes them to the sink. Eddie follows, draining the last of his coffee before he replies “Not today. Why, did you have something to do?”
Steve grins and takes Eddie’s mug, setting it on the counter before he scoops the man into his arms. “Other than you?”
Eddie barks a laugh at the line and shakes his head fondly. “Jesus Christ, how did I get my hands on such a dork?”
“Just lucky, I guess,” Steve replies, and tugs Eddie into another sticky kiss. 
Much love to @bramble-berries for brainstorming this with me! (Even if she didn't know it at the time lol.) Also thank you to @sidekick-hero for cheerleading me through the last bit of writing on this! You're an absolute dear! <3
582 notes · View notes
wndaswife · 7 months
Note
hi! do you think you could write smth about mean mommy wanda when she finds out that you've touched w/o permission? thank you so much, im obsessed w all of your fics!!!
breach of trust | wanda maximoff & fem!reader
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While she’s away at a city council meeting, you find mommy’s collection of special pictures and can’t help but start touching yourself to them, and she isn’t particularly pleased when she comes home to see her baby having enjoyed herself without her.
Word count: 4963
Tags: smut (kinda), fluff, mdlg, aftercare, breast suckling, masturbation, spanking, degradation, mommy kink, there is crying but i don’t think it’s dacryphilia, but im tagging just in case you’re kinda into it, dom!wanda maximoff, sub!reader | MINORS DNI
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gif credit to vanessacarlysle
Mommy was a special, important woman; she was one of the primary representatives for the town’s school district, so on some Sunday mornings she had to leave early in order to make it on time for city council meetings in which they discussed things from tax fund relocations to local events. 
Sometimes they didn’t talk at all about the school district, so mommy ended up leaving her sweet sleeping angel at home for no reason at all — or so she put it. 
But no matter what they discussed at those meetings, those Sundays where Wanda had to leave early were dreadful, for on these mornings you had to wake to an empty bed and no kisses from mommy until around lunchtime. 
Though on most occasions anyways, Wanda made efforts to message you to make sure you’d eaten breakfast and that you were holding up alright without her; she knew how lonely you could get home alone without her, for you wouldn’t let her come home each time without getting an earful of how much you’d missed her.
This morning seemed particularly long for whatever reason, and mommy hadn’t responded to you in about an hour, which meant that she was likely discussing something that did indeed involve the school district this time.
Breakfast was yummy fruits that had been cut up for you and refrigerated before Wanda left so you could have them with your waffles. 
Wanda was happy to see that you weren’t overdoing the whipped cream and syrup like you normally did when you sent her a picture of the breakfast you made, although you did add a few extra spurts of whipped cream after you took the picture to send to her.
You left the syrup as it was, though.
After that, you watched a few cartoons to which Wanda asked which of your stuffies you were cuddling with when you also sent her a picture of you sitting in the living room.
She still hadn’t responded to the picture of you hugging your stuffies close, which you knew she’d especially love because you were holding the bunny stuffie she’d gotten you for Easter a few months ago closest to your chest.
In any case, you were getting antsy and bored and you missed mommy an extra lot this time.
So you decided to start exploring.
You had only moved in with Wanda a few months ago, and though you had been here multiple times before you started living together, you still thoroughly enjoyed looking through mama’s things. 
She was only ever mildly annoyed when you unfolded her clothes, but otherwise she didn’t mind at all when her sweet baby was sitting in the closet looking through her things or sitting at her vanity fiddling with her jewellery. 
There was one time where you were smelling Wanda’s perfume and looking through all her jewellery and makeup, and she sat you down on her lap so the two of you were sitting in front of the vanity while mommy did your makeup and put her jewellery on you and sprayed you with the perfume you liked the most. 
The recollection made you all warm — you loved mommy so much. But it also made you even antsier, for you were now desperate for her attention and you missed her dearly. 
In dire need to feel mama close, you went upstairs and sat on the floor of the walk-in closet. 
Immediately, you unhooked one of her white cashmere pullovers and wore it before digging through the boxes on the top of her side of the closet. 
Most of these boxes had Wanda’s important memories, more expensive jewellery she didn’t often wear, mementos, and other things you really liked to look through because you loved seeing things like photos of her and Tommy and Billy or tickets to her first poetry reading she attended. 
There was a smaller box you hadn’t seen before, a white one set not on the upper shelf, but on the hanging closet organiser that both you and Wanda put some of your smaller things in, like scarves and belts. 
You made space on the ground for the box, moving the other things aside and sitting cross-legged while you inspected the box. 
Unsure why you hadn’t seen the box before during the other times you went through mommy’s things, you curiously opened the box and were met with a collection of pictures. 
Stored on their sides, you couldn’t see the contents of them until you laid the box on the side and carefully pulled the pictures out from the box. 
The sight made your face immediately heat up and you suddenly felt every inch on your body throb with desire and anticipation. 
There were nearly twenty photos of both you and Wanda having sex, all derived from several occasions. You’d known she’d taken them, as she always showed them to you when you were cuddled against her chest feeling all sleepy and happy, but you had no idea she printed them out nor had you seen any of them since she showed them to you the first time. 
There were some of them you liked particularly, photos of just mommy with a handful of her tits or while she was fucking you from behind or while she had you on your knees with your head buried between her thighs, or pictures with her fingers in your mouth or of you buried in her breasts while she rode the strap attached to your hips.
Why did mommy have these?
You felt a throb develop between your legs and you wondered if she used them to get off when she was without you, and though it made you pouty to imagine mama touching herself without you, it drove you up the wall to imagine her alone in bed looking at pictures of her sweet angel and fucking herself to them.
Then you started looking over the pictures of mommy’s tits and her view fucking you from behind and the one where your lips were wrapped around one of her nipples with her hand cradling the back of your head, and you felt yourself inadvertently beginning to press your thighs together, your cheeks heating up exponentially and your yearn to be with mama making it all the more intense.
By the time Wanda replied to your picture of you cuddling with your stuffies calling you adorable and telling you how much she couldn’t wait to be back home with you, you’d already taken your favourite photos to bed and laid them out on the blanket, now too distracted to notice the vibrations of your phone.
When you looked down at them all splayed out, you knew what it was that made your fingers begin to twitch and your knees begin to dig into the soft blankets of the bed, the sheets still a mess and the bed still unmade from when you woke up without mama this morning.
You took a few moments to look them over, each picture, feeling your body thrum impatiently while your mind raced to perhaps lock the images in your memory so you didn’t have to indulge in what edge you were about to spill over.
But that picture — oh, that picture — of mommy cradling the back of your head while you sucked sleepily from her breasts made you ache.
So you slid off your pyjama shorts and slowly took a pillow from against the headboard and slid it between your thighs, securing your knees around it and rolling your hips downwards.
You didn’t even pull your panties to the side at first, because you knew mommy didn’t like when you did anything like this on your own if you at the very least didn’t get her permission first — which she more often than not didn’t bestow, because mommy was a greedy and impatient woman when it came to you.
It wouldn’t be bad if you at least made yourself feel a little good, and your special big girl parts weren’t really touching anything but your panties.
But, oh, the smell of mommy’s cashmere sweater and the pictures of her pretty body made your head all woozy.
You used the same laundry detergent and all, but mommy’s clothes always smelled a little different somehow; it smelled richer, like some of her perfume or her shampoo, though you know it had been washed away in the washing machine.
In any case, you just felt completely surrounded by mama, and when you pulled your panties to the side and began rubbing your throbbing clit against the pillow, you didn’t feel that you were exactly disobeying her when everything surrounding you reminded you of her.
You weren’t sure how long you’d been going at rubbing yourself against the pillow to the photos of mama because you were in a strange place of feeling guilty that you were doing it and not wanting to be conscious of how long you were disobeying her for, and sheer pleasure from riding your pillow looking at pictures of mama that you could just look at over and over and over again, and they’d be there every time you opened your eyes or looked down at the blankets where they were sprawled out.
Though the amount of time you’d been doing it for didn’t matter, at least not to Wanda, who you hadn’t heard come home and walk up to the bedroom.
Perhaps she’d been suspecting that you were up to no good when her baby was uncharacteristically silent over texts, or that you were sleeping and decided not to make too much noise when she came up and looked for you.
Whatever it was, it was only until she dropped her purse on the floor a few feet away from the bed to storm over that it finally broke you from your concentration and made you realize that she’d come home.
By the time you looked up, she took your face in her hands and angled it up so you could look at her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she growled, looking down at you.
Your stuttered attempts to answer her question ended up being worth nothing when Wanda looked down at the bed and saw the sprawled out photos in front of you. She looked over at the closet and noticed the other photos left on the floor along with the open white box she’d stored them in.
With a hum that was startlingly cool and unassuming, she looked back over to you, her eyes scarily focused as she said, “It seems we have a rat infestation; my things being gone through while I’m not home, my things not being in the same place they were when I set them down.”
You swallowed and kept quiet, for you knew she was leading up to something; if it were not for the frightening steadiness in her voice, then it was the way her fingers remained pressing into your cheeks as she held your head in place.
“Unless you have an explanation as to why those pictures are on the floor, Y/N?” she asked, tipping your head down a bit so you had to look up at her as if you were a guilty puppy.
There was no use lying now, and besides, you’d felt guilty for what you were doing ever since you laid the photos down on the bed.
“It was me, mommy, I made the mess,” you confessed. “And I was doing big girl things without mommy’s permission.”
Wanda’s eyes narrowed slightly, and then she looked down at the sweater you were wearing. The flash in her eyes seemed to be one of adoration, and you at least knew that a part of her appreciated you wearing her clothes when you were home alone.
Indeed, she did see the image of you with your face in her hands while you looked up at her with the sweetest pleading eyes and wearing her clothing to be a most adorable sight.
“Do you know what makes mommies, mommies?” she then asked.
Perking up a little as you thought about it, you answered hopefully, “Having a baby like me to care for?”
“And what does ‘caring’ for a baby like you mean, Y/N?”
You hummed thoughtfully before responding, “Giving me kisses and cuddling me and making me feel like the most special little girl in the world.”
“Oh, of course,” Wanda conceded, smiling at you. 
But her grip on your face did not lessen.
“Yet, if that were the only way mommies care for their babies, then anyone else could do the same and be just as important to you as mommy,” she explained. 
“Sweetheart,” Wanda cooed, “there’s one thing you’re missing.”
When you didn’t answer, looking at her curiously without any implication that you knew what it was that you were missing, mommy said, and tightened her grip on your face, “Discipline — mommies get to discipline their little girls when they’ve been bad.”
She suddenly pushed you back and let go of you, using her other hand to tear the pillow out from between your legs. 
“No, mama, please!” you begged, getting onto your knees and crawling over to her. “I apologised already!”
“I have yet to hear this apology,” she said as she collected the photos from the bed.
She was right — you’d forgotten to apologise.
“I’m sorry! Mommy, I’m sorry! Please don’t give me spankings!”
“I’m happy to see you can take responsibility for your actions, honey, but what kind of precedent would I be setting as your mommy if I let your disobedience go without punishment?” She placed the photos on the nightstand and straightened with her hands on her hips. “Be a good girl and take your clothes off.”
You sniffled and crawled forward further so you could kneel in front of her. “Please, mama, I don’t want to,” you continued to beg.
“Colour?”
“Green,” you answered honestly and sniffled, still hoping she’d take pity on you.
She maintained, “Then I’m sorry, honey, but you need to take your clothes off — now.”
You rubbed your eyes and Wanda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, reaching down and slapping your hands away from your face.
“You do not want to make mommy angrier than she is right now, angel,” she snarled from beyond a clenched jaw as she tightened a hand around your wrist. “I’ve been dealing with bullshit all afternoon and I come home to see you fucking off as if I’ve never disciplined you or taught you any form of manners in your life. The punishment I currently see fit is nothing compared to what I will force you to take if you don’t get your fucking ass up and take your clothes off.”
You knew there was nothing else to do but obey when mommy was this angry.
Earlier, you hadn’t realised how upset she already was; she must’ve been holding her tongue or trying her best to maintain her patience. She told you her punishment for you would be worse if you didn’t undress right this moment, but you also knew that the punishment you were getting now was already worse than what she’d originally intended when she caught you masturbating.
You took mommy’s sweater off first and then your panties, but when you moved to take off the loose cropped pyjama top that barely covered your tits, mama hooked a finger under the strap of it and released it so it slapped lightly against your shoulder.
“Leave this on,” she said. “I like how they make your tits look.”
Her thumb ran across one of your breasts and she thumbed for a moment at your nipple, amused at how quickly it hardened and how you pressed your lips trying not to moan in the face of how you were just about to be punished for indulging in pleasure.
She let go of you and sat down on the edge of the bed, adjusting her posture to allow you enough space to lay yourself across her lap.
Not protesting even a little bit, you crawled over to the edge and laid your stomach on her thighs. She moved around a bit so you were able to lay both your arms and legs down on the bed, leaving only your hips arched up a bit with how you were sprawled out across her lap.
“Spread your legs,” she told you, and you obeyed, making sure both of your legs were still on the bed so you could allow her proper access to you.
Wanda draped an arm over your waist and secured you in place while her other hand parted your thighs a bit more so she could lean over and inspect your cunt.
“Look at how wet this pussy is,” she said, disappointed. “You got so far without mommy’s help. Are you a big girl now, Y/N? You don’t need mommy to make you feel good?”
“No, mommy!” you protested immediately. “I-I was looking at pictures of you, mommy.”
She hummed, seemingly unconvinced, but you couldn’t tell for sure now that you were sprawled out across her lap, unable to see her face.
A thumb delved into your folds and spread you open, revealing just how sticky you’d gotten all on your own.
“It’s disgusting how good you seemed to have felt while knowing you were disobeying your mommy,” she said. “Mommy is very, very disappointed in you, honey, and not only because you disobeyed me, but because this filthy little cunt is telling me that you have no problem doing big girl things on your own. Does it feel better on your own, Y/N?”
“No, mama!”
“How will you prove it to me?”
“I can prove it to you — I can. I’ll take my spankings, mommy. I’m a good girl. I am. I made a mistake, but I love my mommy and I don’t want to do anything without mommy’s help. I was being selfish and I just missed you so much.”
“That’s sweet, honey. Indeed, you will have made it up to me should you take your spankings like a good, obedient girl. I understand little things like you make mistakes, and perhaps if it were any other day, I might choose not to punish you at all. But because you chose to be selfish today, I see it fit that I get to be selfish too. I’ve had a terrible day, and I want to be able to do what I want with my little girl to make me feel better. Does that sound fair to you, angel?”
You nodded quickly.
“Good,” Wanda said, “because mommy is feeling very, very upset.”
Worrying that perhaps if you questioned her at all you might set her off even more, but feeling curious anyways, you cautiously asked, “Why are you upset, mama…?”
Wanda took a handful of your ass, inspecting its soft, supple skin being taken into her hand. “Dealing with dim-witted idiots who seem to have no intention of saying anything worth anyone’s time yet taking it all up nevertheless has made mommy rather frustrated,” she answered. “Do you know how frustrating it is, baby, to expect so much more from someone, only to be disappointed?”
You were sure the question was rhetorical, so you could bury your face in your arms in shame while mommy delivered your first spank, eliciting a muffled yelp from you.
She continued, “I pour so much time and effort into those useless city council meetings, and yet it’s always the school district representatives that get overlooked. You have no idea how upset it makes me, angel, to come home and see you fucking a pillow of all things, because you were too much of a desperate, horny slut to listen to mommy’s rules.”
Another spank.
Wanda squeezed your ass and dug her fingers into your stinging skin.
“I want to hear you apologise again,” she demanded.
Immediately, you raised your head and said, “I’m sorry for not listening to mommy’s rules! I’m so sorry, mommy.”
Spank.
“What rules did you break, exactly, Y/N?” she pressed.
You swiped at your eyes and answered, “Baby isn’t allowed to touch her big girl parts and do big girl things without mommy’s permission.”
Another spank — this time, one on both sides of your ass.
“Why did mommy make that rule, sweetheart?”
“Because I’m too little to make big girl decisions,” you said, “and only mommy is big enough to know what’s best for me.”
Wanda rewarded your answer with a quick swipe of her thumb through your pussy, lightly grazing against your clit, before returning her hand to squeezing at your ass. “And don’t you see what happens when little girls make big girl decisions? Hm?” she pried. “Now you’re all filthy and ill-mannered, and mommy did not train you to be like that.”
Then suddenly, mommy was spanking you over and over, all over your ass, covering your delicate skin in flushed shades and trails of her nails.
“No one seems to want to listen to me today, honey,” she gritted. “And I thought that my baby, out of everyone, would respect mommy enough to listen to her.”
Seemingly propelled forward by the verbalisation of her anger, Wanda used one hand to spread your ass and delivered a spank to your pussy, making you cry out into the bed sheets.
“Nevermind the other idiots from the council, but I walked into this room feeling very betrayed and ignored by the sweetest, most beloved thing I’ve ever made mine,” Wanda explained sternly. “And there are not enough words in English nor Sokovian that could sufficiently express to you how upset that makes me feel, bunny.”
It was not the pain from the spankings that made you break, but instead, it was mommy talking about how betrayed and ignored she felt that did it.
“I didn’t mean to make mama feel bad,” you sniffled and rubbed at your eyes with the back of your wrist.
Wanda paused her spankings and replied, “I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart.”
You raised your head and took in a deep breath to steady yourself before saying, “I was just being selfish, mama. I really love mommy so much.” You rubbed your eyes again when tears started forming. “I’m not a big girl. I still need my mommy. I’m still just a baby and I still need mommy.”
From the way you were facing, you couldn’t see what mommy looked like when you said all that, and you weren’t sure if you were about to see what other punishments she had in store for when you disobeyed her even further.
You buried your face in your arms again and shut your eyes.
“Why don’t you tell mommy more about that?” Wanda asked, her voice smooth but not indicative of if she was upset or not.
Sniffling, you turned your head to the side so she’d be able to hear you when you spoke. “About what, mama…?”
A soft hand ran down the expanse of your stinging ass, almost soothingly.
“About how much you need your mommy,” she clarified. “Come on, honey. I want to hear about how my sweet little girl still needs her mommy.”
You wiped your face of your tears and raised your head.
“U-Um,” you stuttered, now feeling a little shy now that mama was asking for all your mushy feelings about her. “Well, I’ll always need mommy. Need mama to dress baby and make breakfast and cut up baby’s fruits in little shapes.”
The more you talked about it, the more lighthearted you became, and you perked up a bit as you started thinking more and more about what you needed Wanda for. “And!” you started again, excitedly. “And I need mommy to give me baths and cuddle me and give me kisses when I have nightmares. And I need mommy to hold my hand when I’m scared, and I need mommy to help me do big girl things.”
While you were speaking, Wanda kept rubbing her palm softly against your ass, and you imagined that she was pleased with what she was hearing for she stopped spanking you and talking about how upset her day had made her.
And mommy always liked petting her baby like that when she was content, like when you laid your head in her lap or when you were resting back against her in the bath.
“I like hearing these pretty things coming out of your mouth, honey,” Wanda said, sounding truly very grateful. 
Then, she pressed a kiss to both sides of your flushed ass and gave you a gentle pat. “Come up and sit with mommy,” she said. “Are you alright? You aren’t feeling too hurt?”
Carefully and modestly as to not be improper by suddenly getting up and jumping into bed with mommy, although you certainly did want to, you sat up and followed mama to where she positioned herself against the headboard. 
You shook your head and crawled over to her, where she sat you down on her lap and took you into her arms. “Feeling okay, mama,” you answered. 
Wanda smiled, and she seemed much more relaxed than she did earlier. She stroked your cheek with her thumb and kissed the tip of your nose. “That’s good, sweetheart,” she whispered. 
She looked down at you in a way that made you just absolutely melt, the way she was holding you close and petting your hair and touching your face. 
“Do you want mommy to make you feel good?” she asked, trailing a hand down to your lower stomach. 
You thought for a moment and Wanda waited patiently, until you cuddled closer and shook your head. Gently, you tugged on one of the buttons of her burgundy blouse and looked up at her pleadingly. 
The picture of you suckling from mama still rang clear in your head, and really, it had been that picture that tipped you over the edge. 
“Oh my,” she breathed out, impressed as she raised her eyebrows. “My little girl always has the best ideas, hm?” 
Wanda pinched your nose, which made you giggle, before she began unbuttoning her blouse, doing it slowly enough so you could watch each one come undone, exposing more and more of her. 
She looked at you with a smile on her face as you watched her unbutton her shirt, simply taken by how much love her little girl had for her. 
When her blouse was unbuttoned with just her bra keeping you from her breasts, Wanda leaned down and kissed your lips and then your forehead. 
You hooked a finger around her bra and looked up at her for permission. She gave you a single nod and, eagerly, you pulled her bra down and released one of her breasts. 
Wanda brought you forward, and your lips immediately latched onto her nipple. She sighed in satisfaction and she leaned back against the headboard, stroking your head softly as you sucked. 
“That’s good, bunny,” she whispered and brushed the corner of your mouth with her thumb. “Ah, your lips are so gentle.”
After a few tender moments, a sudden thought came to you and you unlatched from mommy’s nipple and looked up at her before asking quietly, “Why did you have those pictures, mommy?”
“The pictures of the two of us, angel?” she asked and looked down at you cuddled against her. She tapped your nose with her finger. “The one you were being all naughty with earlier?”
You blushed and turned your face away a little.
Wanda’s other hand that cradled the back of your head used its fingers to tilt your head the other way so you were looking back over at her. “I couldn’t stop looking at them on my phone and decided to get them printed. I was planning on sharing them with you soon, but I couldn’t find the right time,” she told you, her voice sweet and soft.
“It’s partially my fault — what happened earlier,” she then added, her fingers stroking your cheek. “I shouldn’t have kept the treats out where my little kitten could find them.”
She smiled when you giggled and she leaned down to kiss your forehead. 
Then Wanda said quietly, “Thank you for being so sweet and patient with me, baby.” She hugged you closer so you could rest your head on her chest. “I know you did something bad today, but I didn’t have to be as harsh with your punishment as I was. I was just very upset, and seeing you do such things without me made me feel very left out.”
You looked up at her from her, nearly about to tell her how much you loved her again, but Wanda could understand it from how you looked at her. 
“It’s okay for you to make mistakes sometimes, sweetheart, especially when I know you did it just because you missed me. I lost my temper, is all. Thank you for caring for me by being so understanding, even when I was being a little mean. Even little girls care for their mommies too, you know.”
Sitting up a bit, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and hugged her. “I wanna care for mommy forever and ever,” you voiced proudly. 
“Only if I get to be your mommy forever and ever,” Wanda teased, kissing your cheek and rubbing your back with her other hand. 
“I’ll always need mommy.”
“Then I’ll always need my little girl.”
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 29 days
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❤ Yandere Coworker ❤
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▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female reader
WARNINGS: Obsession; Creepiness.
AN: Yep, I'm back. Well see how this goes.
--
◾ Yandere Coworker who gets all fired-up the moment you’re hired into the company he works for. Your beauty is simplistic, but it still draws him to you like you’re a siren.
You’re so cute and his eyes catch the way those tight pencil skirts compliment your asset so well. 
◾ Yandere Coworker who is a bit bummed when discovers that you are going to be working for a different department than his.
But quickly regains his composure because at least you’re still working in the same building, on the same floor. Plus your departments are practically side to side, so a win is a win. 
◾ Yandere Coworker who wastes no time enthusiastically introducing himself and becoming all friendly with you.
He volunteers to show you around the building and is always free to help you out, even when that’s not really his area of expertise. 
◾ Yandere Coworker definitely gets tunnel-vision when it comes to you. If you’re walking around, be sure that he’ll drop whatever work or abandon whoever he was talking to in order to come say hi to you.
In less than a month, everyone in the company is aware about his crush on you - and you do too, even if you try to remain neutral to his overly friendly nature. 
◾ Yandere Coworker who gets a bit touchy with you. A hand around your shoulders. A small pat to your back. Bringing his hand forward to clean some non-existing food crumb out of your lips.
Sometimes, he’s even bold enough to place his hand on your thigh. Definitely ignores your winces of discomfort whenever he touches you.
He just brushes it off with a playful grin, throwing a joke around. 
◾ Yandere Coworker who claims you as his work wife, using the title a bit too casually for your taste. Uses it as an opportunity to inquire you about your personal life - whether or not you have a real life husband.
He’ll gladly take that position as well, he says with a smirk.
It’s a bit hard to set boundaries with him because he just brushes them off, saying he’s just teasing you. That he’s just being friendly with you. That there’s no reason for you to get all mad with him. 
◾ Yandere Coworker who is a social butterfly and has friends in all departments. Everyone loves him and his super friendly persona, which makes it considerably hard for you to let it off your chest how much he suffocates you.
The women tell you how lucky you are, while the guys steer away from you. 
It gets even worse when he starts memorizing your schedule. When you arrive at work, he’s already there, waiting for you at the main entrance with a cup of Starbucks.
And when it’s time to clock out, he stands near your cubicle, patiently scrolling through his phone as he waits for you to be done with work. 
And then he starts offering you a ride back home, which you try to avoid as much as possible, coming up with an insane amount of excuses to get him off your back - spoiler alert: it doesn’t work and he still forces you to accept the rides, which means he now knows where you live.  
◾ Yandere Coworker who texts you a whole lot. During work hours, on your days off, on weekends. Sends a lot of work wife memes.
You always decline his video-calls, so he relents to sending pictures of himself in his home, with his pets. You pretend not to see the shirtless outline of his toned body in the corner of the photos. 
◾ Yandere Coworker who falls even deeper for you at the annual Christmas party with how pretty (and hot) you look with a dress.
Relentlessly tries to dance with you and when that doesn’t work, he grounds himself firmly by your side, not letting you dance with anyone else.
By the end of the night, he tries to kiss you, after sharing his heartfelt feelings, only to receive a slap.
◾ Yandere Coworker who is a bit heartbroken when discovers that you’re resigning.
He really thought you liked him back, so why are you suddenly acting like a mean bitch? That’s not you, at all. 
Goes to your place hoping to clear the whole situation and when you refuse to even speak to him, practically banging the door in his face, things get nasty. 
He’s just gonna have to make you see his way.
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saiidahyunie · 1 month
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ballroom extravaganza
minatozaki sana x f!reader || cont. of fake and true ! pt.3 here
synopsis: you scored the date with the girl from the bar, things are shaping up for the better (maybe/maybe not), and your cousin mina is starting to raise some suspicions.  
warnings: fluff ; smut!! ; sana giving/recieving ; reader recieving/giving ; fucking in the car/office/bedroom (freaky deaky) :D ; sana being needy ; sana praising ; cursing ; anything else i didn't let y'all know ; might be proofread
a/n: dang y'all really like sana don't ya? (bias wrecking me ill never recover) hope you guys enjoy this second part as much as the first one!
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you’re basically jumping out of your own skin when you hear the knock on your door, and twirl around to see the bedside clock. 
8:29 
a minute early. you’d be impressed to keep the hefty lunch in your stomach to not vomit it out. 
“coming!” you cry out, before taking a second to fuss with your current appearance. you played it simple, the flashiest part of the red dress that shuhua loaned you. like the black one, it’s slim-fitting and short, the neckline cutting above the swell of your breasts. your lips are a stained deep red, just to match. tzuyu always said to you that the color was striking for you to pull off. 
after straightening the dress, you step out of your room and walk towards the entryway of the door, taking a second to toe on your black pumps. and then, with a steady exhale, you open the door. 
sana stands on the other side of it, one hand in her pocket of your black slacks and the other carrying a bouquet of roses that she promptly shoves at your chest. you take them, cradling to your body, and look up to find her already gazing at you, eyes raking from the top of your head and down. again and again. 
“hey.” 
“hi.” you smile at her. “these are really beautiful, thank you.”
sana jerks her head in acknowledgement, and you can see the faintest flush of pink spreading to the tips of her ears. you bite your lip as you set the flowers down, staving off the rare urge to giggle. 
she’s still standing by the door, holding her arm out. “so are you ready to go?” 
you take it, curling a hand around her bicep, letting her lead you out. “please.”
“alright,” sana says, laying her menu flat on the table, staring at you with grave seriousness. “speak.” 
“huh?” you look away from the giant, crystal chandelier hanging above you two. the restaurant she’d take you to was only slightly less fancier than the one at the four seasons hotel. 
slightly. 
“i can tell you want to say something.” 
you smile nervously. “yeah, about your driving, maybe. i thought we were gonna—” 
“y/n.” she says firmly; it has the same affect as dumping a bucket of ice water over your head. “no bullshit. you might as well say what you wanna say.” 
“fine.” and this is easy to sink into, your mode of no-nonsense: the compartmentalization of what stresses you. “why did you give me the money?” 
“because i wanted to.” 
“i know, but why? did you feel bad for me?”
“a little.” 
you grit your teeth. “did you pity me?” 
“no.” 
“then what?” 
“i’ve been in your position before. kind of.” 
“what do you mean.” 
“struggling college student, a shitty job, caming from harebrained ways to get money. everyone who’s gone on the path to grad school, doesn’t matter if it’s med, law, blah blah blah whatever, knows how fucking hard it is to survive.” 
your cheeks flush from sana’s words, picking at the white table cloth. “so you empathized with me?” 
“basically.” sana says, sitting back in her chair, smiling at you. your eyes follow along the lazy draw of it. “i didn’t expect you to be so difficult about it.” 
“it’s not like it’s common to give strangers hundreds of dollars within an hour of meeting them. forgive me for being concerned.”
“do you still want to give the money back to me?” sana asks. 
“yes.” 
“okay. then let’s change the subject.” diverting to the basic cookie cutter icebreaker in existence. “what are you majoring in?” 
“sana—”
she reaches across the table and grabs your hand, squeezing it slightly. dazzling brown eyes swallow up your field of vision as she leans into you. “what are you majoring in?”
you bite your tongue. you don’t want to relent into sana’s charms; mina would have your head if she knew that sana was running away with it. but she’s making it so so easy, smiling when you answer, “i’m finishing up my bachelor’s in child education. aiming to get my masters in child’s psychology.”
“you like kids?” 
“yeah,” you reply, visibly softening to sana. “last summer i did my internship at a local kindergarten and i love it. kids are…easy in a way that people aren’t.” 
“what do you mean?”
“they don’t expect anything from you. not anything beyond food or water or playtime. you know, nothing super sophisticated or adult. and they’re easy to talk to. they don’t care what you say to them or if you don’t talk much in general. they’re not judgy and it’s nice.” you hit that right out of the ballpark, and sana stares with lips parted as the facts are laid out for you. 
“i’ve never thought about them that way,” she says, her hand shifting atop your own. her thumb skims across your knuckles. “it sounds nice.” 
your heart thrums like a hummingbird against the walls of your chest. every languid caress pulls a shiver from you. “you don’t like kids?” 
“i don’t dislike them. i’m neutral, i guess. i know i’d like to have my own.” sana replies. 
“do you have any siblings?” 
“nope. i’m an only child.”
“i would’ve never guessed,” you say dryly. 
“ha! has anyone told you you’re funny?” sana inquires, and you’re stifling a laugh while she’s smiling at you, gaze fond. “what about you?” 
“well, i’m an only child.” you reply. normally you’d leave it at this. you don’t really like the notion of getting into the nitty-gritty of your past, but sana’s presence robs any reticence from you. “my parents passed when i was younger so i was raised by my aunt and her cousin.” 
“oh.” sana slips her fingers into the spaces of your own and squeezes gently again. “i’m so sorry.” 
“it’s okay,” you say, smiling awkwardly. “it happened when i was little. i’m kind of accustomed to it now.” 
“can i ask you a question?” 
“a personal one?”
the corner of sana’s mouth quirks. you want to trace it with your fingers.
“if you were in that desperate of a situation, why didn’t you ask her for help?” 
“i can’t afford to take any money from my aunt or cousin. she can’t afford it.” 
“did you try asking?” 
“i’m not saying she would’ve said no. but if she tried, i wouldn’t have accepted it.” 
“sounds startlingly familiar.” 
you pull your hand from hers with a smile and an eye roll before picking up the menu in front of the table, raising it up high enough to cover sana’s face. 
“can we order something now?”
when you get back in the car, you’re warm, languid with a stomach full of risotto and red wine. sana’s hand rests on the gear shift between you, the other one on her wheel. you like watching the motion of them as she drive, like the curls of sana’s knuckles and the rasp her palm makes against the wheel when she turns it. you wish to feel the warmth of it against your leg. 
well, in a city like new york, it’s nothing more than unpleasant. 
“you know i wasn’t kidding when i told you that you’re a horrible driver.” 
“do you own a car, y/n?” 
 “i usually take the subway.” 
“okay. pro-tip if you ever do drive in these streets, better to be offensive than dead. or stuck in traffic for two hours. which, believe it or not, is fucking worse.” 
but despite sana’s words, she seems to listen to you. the drive stretches longer, and you lean into the plush leather seats as you stare out the window, dreading the sight of every familiar building, the street signs that you know lead to your apartment. for a moment, you debate asking to get ice cream, or go to the park, a movie theater–-anything and everything to extend this. you don’t want to leave the pleasant warmth of her car. 
“y/n?” 
you look over to see her smile. “i thought you were asleep.” 
“i’m not tired.”
she takes her hand off the gear shift, thumbs a lock of your hair without breaking your gaze. unwavering. 
“neither am i.” 
when she pulls into your squat, little apartment complex, you’re gripping the edge of your seat, nails squeaking against the buttery leather. she smoothly pulls into an empty space, parking backwards—what a show off—-before turning to you. with as huddled into the seat as you were, her hand is behind the headers, arm bracketing you, you feel consumed. surrounded by her scent, in her car, the engine humming beneath them, with her so close. you can’t breathe without inhaling her.
sana’s noticed it too. her eyes have gone dark, swallowed by her pupils. 
“i had fun,” she says. 
“me too.” 
her mouth twitches. “you gonna try giving me the money back now?” 
you jolt at the reminder, bending to snatch you purse, but sana’s hand flies from her headrest to your hand, hot over your knee.
“i was kidding. i don’t want it back. i don’t need it.”
“sana—” 
“y/n.” she interrupts firmly. “i don’t need it. and in my opinion, i think you can do a hell of a lot more.” 
your defenses waiver before they crumble completely, and you feel your chin wobble. to your horror. “you’re too nice to me.” 
she grabs it, pressing her thumb into the plush of your bottom lip. your stomach clenches as sana’s eyes flicker down, anticipation making your headlight. 
“i don’t think i’m nice enough,” she whispers, but it barely registers. you’re already reaching for her, mouth open to beg; hand on her wrist, and she meets you half-way, swallowing your muted please. 
sana’s kiss is desperate, intense like the rest of her. one hand buried in your hair while the other presses against your knee, a searing, overbearing heat that sinks into your insides, coiling tingly in the pit of your gut. despite your furious protestations to tzuyu, you haven’t felt this in a while, the wet-warmth of another mouth against your own, the life of someone else’s tongue, opening you up further. 
you press closer, so frantic you almost climb over the armrest, but sana pushes you back down to your seat. she breaks away from your mouth to kiss down the line of your throat, flicking her tongue out to taste your overheated skin, smiling when you sigh. your hips jerk beneath her hold when she sucks at your pulse point. 
she grins, teeth nipping at your jawline. “you like that, sweetie?” 
there’s a shock-wire running from the heat of her mouth to her clit. sana’s barely touched you and you’re already keyed-up, on the cusp of euphoria. if you touched yourself now, you’d be so far gone, but you’re not sure she’d let you.
sana returns to kissing your throat, pausing to suckle at it with teeth and tongue, laving it against your skin in soft, wet strokes. she uses the hand in your hair to tilt your neck towards her, directing you like a puppet on strings. her other hand roves up and down your exposed thigh in gentle motions, more exploratory than anything, as if she can’t keep from touching you. and the thought sends a jolt of electricity to pass through you, sparking between your legs. it makes your hips can’t, makes the desperate need for friction a burying, voracious thing, primed to consume you. 
when she kisses the swell of your bottom lip, it comes out of you in a breathless pant, nails biting the seat. “p-please touch me.” 
“where?” sana asks, thumbing the hem of your dress, close enough to be a physical pain. “where, baby? here?”
“n-no.” 
“then where, y/n?” your eyes are black, eager with predatory intent, and you hate how much you love it; the consuming weight of her attention, like she wants to eat you whole. 
without much coronation, you take sana’s hand and shove it between your thighs, spreading them wide. you’re initially afraid that she’ll keep teasing you, that she’s lost in the power trip, but she surprises you when she groans and kisses you roughly, fingers tracing up your slit. 
“so fucking wet you are,” sana raps when she breaks away, almost crazed. she dips her hand beneath the waistband of your panties, the sensation of her fingers against your sensitive skin sending your eyes rolling. your hips buck, demanding delicious friction, and she surges in, laughing into your mouth. 
“you can cum just like this, can’t you?” she asks, voice rumbling against your cheek. her thumb slides up and down the seam of your cunt, the heel of her palm adding the barest pressure to your clit, but it’s good. the mere taste of it almost enough to send you over the edge, just for the sweet torture. 
her knuckles pull against the gusset of your panties as two of her fingers center over your clit. her pace at first is light, slow, exploratory like the way it’d been on your leg. her eyes on your face are focused. she wants to know what’ll take you to the edge, and you know it isn’t this. so you grab sana’s wrist and raise your hips to force pressure. 
“faster,” you pant, liquid gaze cutting to her. “h-harder. i like it–” 
she steals the words from you, kissing again with a mouth full of bite. the motions of sana’s fingers quicken, slide down to the tease of your e trance while you grind frantically into her palm. you’re so wet you easily accept the glide of her first finger, and when she pushes in the second, the stretch is sweet, a welcome thing. you thrust onto them, wishing vainly that she’d toss you into the backseat and fuck you with something more.
the thought makes you clench around her, and she curses loudly, burying her face into your sweaty neck. 
“are you always this depsrate when you’re getting fucked?” sana hisses, thrusting her fingers into you harder, without relent. “you always feel this good?” 
you choke out a sob, feeling the familiar swoop in your belly, the swelling tide that welcomed euphoria. as you clutch her wrist, chasing it, sana rests her head atop your shoulder, her voice going soft, reverent. 
“you’re so good, y/n,” she says in a frantic stream, mad with want. “so good. so, so fucking good. my perfect girl.” 
you keen when it washes over you, that white-hot heat that robs you of sense. you shudder beneath sana’s grip, clutching her wrist as you ride it out. she helps you come down from it, kissing you languidly and keeping her pace inside you slow. when you can breathe again, she pulls them out of you. you flush hotly when she sticks her fingers in her mouth, but the embarrassment doesn’t linger long. you surge toward her, hands flying towards the button of her pants. meets her in another frantic kiss.
“i wanna make you feel good now,” you whisper, palming her. “i want—”
sana uses her hand in your hair to bind you up against her and kisses you again, long and full enough to make the words melt from your tongue. you’re hazy when she pulls away, pliant. 
“i think,” she says. “that there’s always next time.” 
“next time?”
“next time,” sana repeats, rubbing your cheek with her thumb. “it’s late anyway. you should go to bed.” 
“oh,” you say blankly. “okay.”
sana kisses you again, twice on your nose, before leaning over to open your door. you stumble out of her car, binding your purse tight against your chest. you wave at her from the entrance of her building before you step inside, and see the shadow of sana’s hand as she waves back, driving off. when she turns onto the street, you rush inside, a hot, sharp balloon swelling in your chest. 
your hands shake when you slot the key into your door and turn the knob, switching on the lights. you kick your shoes off and toss the purse onto the couch, moving on muscle memory. you can’t think beyond the warm, floaty haze that’s clouded your mind, and when you shut the door behind you, you laugh. 
over and over. carelessly. all the while remembering the firm grip of sana’s hand and the scent of her, clogging your nose even now, a smell you want to bottle up and keep. 
next time, you think, giddy, nearly dancing in the small space. she said there’d be a next time. 
just then, you hear the high trill of your phone and dart to the couch, yanking open your purse to fish it out. you flush a pink when you notice the notification next to sana’s name– a text that reads, goodnight- and as you go to type your response, another notification pops up. one from venmo. 
a cold spike of adrenaline shoots through you when the app opens, fingers trembling. you almost drop your phone entirely at the number attached: $1,000 dollars. 
“for school,” it reads. 
your breath quickens. the hot balloon in your chest expands and expands until it pops, a physical pain against your ribcage.
i thought— your eyes burn. the realization sinks into your like molasses. i thought she—
the night you met sana, she expressed concern when she learned why you were there. she’d condemned jihyo and implied that you deserved something more, something better. she’d left you money as a gift, to be kind. 
a gift, sana told you. you don’t owe me anything. 
so why is it, then, that you have the distinct impression that jihyo had been simply outbid. 
you’re thinking about next time. sana said that there’d be a next time. 
that next time would come, then twice.
then a third.
and after.
the day after that, and the day even after that. 
the room is reverberating the echoes around you, loud with the sounds of heavy pants and wet slaps of skin. you’re clinging to the sheets beneath you, pushing yourself up, moving your hips to meet the frantic pace of sana's fingers curled up inside you. sana then buries a hand into your hair and hitches you up for a kiss that never takes. it’s broken quickly, leaves both of your swollen mouths parted and breathing of each other’s oxygen. you’re relishing the intimacy of the moment. 
when the building pressure at the base of your stomach grows to become too overwhelming, you fall back on the mattress, unmoored without sana’s presence, but she follows you as she always does. she’s binding her arm around your waist and raises you up, hand cupping your cunt while she’s all over your neck again. 
“c’mon,” sana says, voice wrecked, torn from her. “c’mon, honey, one more.” 
you gave sana the opportunity to sit on her face earlier, brown eyes flashing dark and predatory at you while you grind all over her mouth. the hot curl of her tongue relentless against you, reducing you to a living nerve ending. sana wrung out two splintering orgasms out of you, flipping you on your back before you could even recover. you loved it, and you still do, seeing all the ways that you can challenge sana. 
her slender fingers dip down to your clit again and causes you to moan loudly, rocking into her as she circles it firmly: rough, fast motions that she’s learned that you love. to bring you back to that edge quick. 
sana kisses you again, her other hand slipping to your breast above and squeezing. she’s groaning into your core, it’s making you fall deeper into the madness of your situation. 
“you’re so—” she barely mumbles out, her hand on your breast slides down to clamp the divot in your hips. sliding the pillow under the arch of your back in one seamless motion. she’s too good with her hands. “fucking unreal, and perfect.” 
her mouth against your other mouth starts the chain reaction. you’re moaning out more strain behind it. a star-burst of affection igniting in your chest. sana continues to swipe her tongue, the unyielding pressure that makes your vision swimmy, and you let go. 
you’re sobbing out while your hands are trying to find what’s left of the comforter as ecstasy steals over you. sana continues to drive her fingers and tongue into you, letting you feel it: in the air, at the base of your throat, between the rapid, uneven pacing of thrusts from her fingers. when you’re all tuckered out, the clenching fading out from your cunt, soaked with slick while it gets on different parts of your skin; from the leg, to one of your obliques, to the small peak of your boob. 
“o-okay, that’s e-enough.” 
“you taste so fucking good,” sana murmurs, mouth hot against the column of your neck. her hands trailing up and down your stomach. “when you clench around my fingers is just—” 
fucking shit this woman. “sana, please.” 
she sits up with a chuckle, and you’re at the same level too, instantly resting your head on her shoulder, kissing it. sana wraps her arm around your waist, kissing the top of your head, her fingers are tapping away at the v-line. you look up and she kisses you, grinning with delight. 
“will you stay over?” you ask, too plaintive when she pulls away. sana’s smile falters and you feeling the realization, disappointment inbound. 
“i can’t.” a spike lances through you. “my department has a meeting early in the morning. i can’t skip.” 
“oh.” you hate yourself for being upset—she’s a doctor, of course she’s busy—but the feeling rises up anyway, along with the insidious notion that she’s gotten what she wanted and so has little use for you now. without thinking, you start to drift away from sana in slow little increments that she catches, and she pulls you up tight against her, pressing her lips to your hairline. 
“i wish i could say,” sana whispers. “if it were up to me, i’d be here with you everyday.” 
the words are cruel, considering what they are–what you are—but the pain is stamped down. masking it with teasing. “how would you work then?” 
“i’m sure my supervisor could find someone else to fill my place. someone as equally ecstatic to dig their hands into some guy’s intestines.”
“you’re so…casual when you talk about your job.” you say out of respite. 
“are you worried?” sana asks. 
“no.” answering while tracing fingers across sana’s chest, over her still-racing heart, before tapping her chin. “but it makes me wonder if i should be.” 
“is the child psychology major going to psychoanalzye me right now? when i’m twenty-nine years old nearing thirty?” 
“you know the issues of childhood can be far-reaching. you never stop feeling the effects of it.” 
“incredible.” you laugh when sana dips her head and takes your finger in her mouth, biting it gently. “but i’ve always been this way.” 
“which is?” 
a half-feral grin spreads across sana’s face before she abruptly flips you over. you yelp into her mouth as she kisses you, long and slow, and settles over you. she breaks away, still grinning. “crazy about you.” 
you’re flushing hotly, which makes her bark out a delighted laugh, and sana kisses you again. over and over and over. her lips trail from your fluttering eyelids to the tip of your nose to your chin, every nook and cranny of your face that she can reach. when her lips meet yours again, you can taste the sugar on her tongue.
“god, i wish i could stay,” sana rasps, breaking away, and you cling onto her. 
“then stay.” 
“if i did, i’d have to leave at 5 to get ready at my apartment in order to be at the hospital on time. also you have an early class tomorrow. chances are i’d wake you up and you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.” 
your jaw tightens, and teeth catch your tongue. you don’t want to accuse sana of making excuses, because you know she’s right; it’s happened before. and that’s what burns you, the idea that your angst could have no standing. the operating off of your injured feelings and nothing substantial. this is transnational after all. 
“okay.” you say, coolly. “guess this is goodbye then.” 
“bye y/n.” sana says, kissing your mouth. “goodnight.” 
sana kisses you several times, smothering you in affection. she only stops after you simple, nipping at your nose once before rising off the bed. you watch as sana peels away off the bed, walking around your room, picking up her clothes from the floor and pulling them on. when she’s done, she strides over to you and slides a nick of your hair back, kissing your forehead. 
“i’ll call you tomorrow, sweetheart.” 
“okay.” 
sana ducks down, skating her nose along the edge of your hairline, keeping her mouth close to your ear. “i’ll see you later.” 
you move your head and catch sana’s lips. against them, whispering. “mn, see you later.” 
you notice with some satisfaction that sana’s eyes are fevered as she pulls away, dark with wanting, and you shove your face back into the pillow, clinging to it. sana mutters a soft curse and makes her way to the door, only to immediately jam the knob when she goes to close it. she mutters a curse again, much louder. 
“just give it a little wiggle,” you say, sitting up. “it gets a little tight sometimes when you twist it.” 
“how long has it been like this?” 
“since i got the apartment.” 
“what the fuck?!” sana exclaims. “did anything else come broken?”
“sometimes the water pressure in my shower is really low.” 
“jesus christ, y/n.” sana says again, louder, angrier. “why haven't you told your landlord?” 
“trust me, i have.” you say shrugging your shoulders. “if i said anything more than that he’d just shut off the water entirely.” 
sana sounds pressed, jiggling the knob harder. “i’ll kill him then.” 
“it’s really not that ba—” 
“i’m coming back next week with a repairman,” sana interjects, tone brokering no argument. “i can fix the doorknob myself but i’ll get a plumber for the shower.” 
you duck your head, embarrassed. “you really don’t have to do that, sana.”
“i want to,” she replies, eyes softening when she looks at you. “i don’t want you living in some shit-hole with no running water.”
“i have running water.” 
“we’ll see what the plumber says.” and with that, sana gives up on fixing the jam and breezes past the doorway. a few seconds later, you can hear sana at the front door shut behind her. with a deep sigh, you fall back into the bed and reach for your pillow, thick with her scent, and curls around it to fall asleep. 
in the morning, you wake up to a ten dollar venmo notification for coffee and the contact information of the plumber sana mentioned. 
“why haven’t you got my calls or texts?” is the first question that mina asks when you answer the phone. you stifle a laugh. 
“well, good to hear your voice mina.”
“you haven’t called me,” she says again. “is everything okay?” 
you sigh and sink into your loveseat, socks skipping over the fractured leather. your fingers cradle the coffee mug. “nothing’s wrong.” you say. “i’ve been really busy.” 
“with what?” 
“school,” is what you reply with. “not sure if you’ve kept up, but i’m in my last year now. i’ve been getting most of the important work done as much as i can.” a second passes before you add, “and communication is a two-way street. you haven’t been calling me either.” 
“busy with work.” is what mina says in defense. 
“see?” you quirk, a sip of coffee passing through your mouth, tapping your fingers on your knee, waiting for mina to speak. neither of you are particularly verbose, so the shared calls usually play out like this: tense silence, quick updates, the voids that harbored resentment. but you’ve grown far from the desire of mina to be soft for you (she has, doesn’t want to admit it) and you’re just accustomed to the dispassion. 
for the final question on the script: “do you need any money from me?” 
“no, mina. i don’t need money from you or auntie.” 
“i assume the tips are good at your job then?” 
“even better.” 
she hums, like this was real answer, saying, “if you ever need anything, call me.” 
“you know it when i do.” 
“okay then.” 
mina hangs up with a click before the goodbye is even truly articulated on the tongue. 
your ears perk up when a knock is heard on the door, moving from your kitchen to walk to the entrance. curious, you open it, only to be swept up into sana’s arms before you can even say hello. she kicks it shut behind her and pins you to the old wood, lips roving over your face. 
“what—” she kisses your mouth twice in quick succession. “—are you doing here?”
“left the hospital for my lunch break,” sana breathes, hitching you up so that a leg is wrapped around her waist. she dips to suck your collarbone, mouth curling when she hears you mewl. “decided to come here.” 
“d-did you eat?” 
“no.” 
sana’s hand slides up from the curve of your ass to your breast, squeezing gently. you moan softly, head thumping against the wood. “you—you should.” 
she separates from your throat to shoot a sly grin. “i’d rather eat you out first.” 
mindless, spurred by sana’s passion, you surge down to kiss her. tightening your legs around her, thighs squeezing as sana’s hand cups your clit. with every pass of the hand, you can feel the shift of your underwear, panties clinging. 
sana buries her hand into your hair, yanking back to expose your throat. she ducks her head to you for another kiss, trailing her lips up and down the line, tongue darting out to taste. her other hand dips down to your ass to bind you up against her, rolling until your toes curl. you sigh and slide your hand into sana’s hair. it would be so easy to just cum from this, but you’d rather put sana’s mouth somewhere else. 
you pull her up by her hair, stomach clenching at the naked want on sana’s face. her eyes, half-lidded and hazy, are trained on your open mouth. when you lick them, her thumb catches your bottom lip. 
“please,” you gasp, moving against sana’s hips. arching. “we need to go to my—” 
sana grins, almost madly, and kisses you hard enough to steal your breath. “what? you’re afraid your neighbors might hear me fuck you again?” 
you blush hotly and sana laughs, but ultimately decides to appease you, heaving you off the wall. she seeks out your lips again and stumbles into the room. impatient, sana kicks open the door, heedless when it slams loudly into the wall. 
you hardly notice also, giddy when sana pushes you onto the bed. it’s a race to get clothes off, pairs of hands fulmbling with the zippers and buttons until sana bats her pants away, you yanking your sweatpants off, meeting for another kiss as she lowers herself over you. you moan loudly when her fingers tease the opening between your legs, feeling the wetness in an instant. 
“my god,” you sigh out, clinging to sana, blood burning beneath your skin; every movement a siren call to your own pleasure. “please, just—just touch me, sana.” 
sana grins rakishly, eyes glittering with mirth. ever the eager observer to your own demise. 
“you’re always so polite, sweetheart.” sana says, and moves down to kiss you. you yourself arch to meet her, pulse skittering at her proximity, at the heady invertibility of mindless pleasure, and—
the lights go out. 
sana stills above you. at first, you’re surprised, waiting for them to flicker back on. this happens sometimes. i mean—the building is old as in 1920s red stone–faulty wiring and out-dated, but nothing comes to fruition. 
“fuck,” you spitt, arousal plummeting to now nothing. you move from under sana. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—” 
“what’s wrong?” sana asks. you rise from the bed and she follows you to the kitchen. you snatch a pile of envelopes from your counter to dig through them, only to stop when you notice that the lighting outside is too dim to see. you sigh heavily, marching over to your couch to read by the flickering candles. sana sits down beside you, eyeing cautiously. “what’s wrong?” 
“the light bill,” you croak. “the rental agency upped the price recently but i must’ve paid the old amount without ven thinking. god, how could i be so stupid?!” 
“you’re not stupid. don’t talk like that,” sana snaps. she then takes a deep breath, voice much calmer when she adds, “and this is an easy fix. if you pay it now, it’ll be back on in a few hours. this shit happens, y/n.” 
“but i don’t–” have the money. you clench your jaw tight, forcing the words down, but sana can see the pain on your face, can hear it lingering in the air, unsaid. 
“i’ll help you—” you shake your head; you don’t like this, the reminder—” let me help you.” 
“no, sana.” 
“it’s not a big deal. i want to.” 
“i can’t ask you to—”
sana suddenly shifts closer and grabs your face, cupping it between her palms. she looks int your eyes, gaze probing.
“let me,’ she cajoles. “you don’t have to bear the burden of this all on your own. if i’m offering to help you, let me help you.” 
your heart swells. with relief. with dismay. “okay.” 
she pecks your lips before standing up, thumb trailing down your cheek. “where’s your laptop? if your account is set up online, i can pay it now. i still have about forty-five minutes until i have to get back so i can wait with you until then.” 
“it’s on my desk.” 
sana nods once, turning on her heel to march into your room. the second she’s out of sight, you bury your face into her hands, burning with shame. 
right after class ends, your phone vibrates. 
you pick it out of your pocket, thumb grayling over your cracked screen to see sana’s contact photo flashing up at you; it was the one taken three weeks ago, with her smiling while you pressed a kiss to her cheek. you’re clicking the green button. 
“hello?” 
“i just realized you’ve never been to my apartment,” sana says, surprising you. “we’ve been together for almost two months and you’ve never seen my house.” 
“oh.” your cheeks flush, pulse skipping at together. “you’ve never really brought it up before.”
“like a fucking idiot. do you wanna come over?” 
your body warms in a near–sudden response, to your eternal horror, and with a bite of your lip. “sure.” 
“cool! i’ll pick you up right now.” 
“you're not working today?” 
“no. i worked eighty hours last week so they gave me a day off. i’m on call, though, which is shitty anyway.” 
“i’m sorry.” 
“it’s fine,” sana dismisses. “so you’re still on campus?” 
“yeah. i just got out of class.” 
“alright, i’ll be there in twenty.” 
“okay. bye.” 
“bye.” sana says, but lingers on the line. for a moment, you think she’s forgotten to hang up, and moves to do it for her until she adds, softly, cutely you might think. 
“i’m excited to see you.” 
your heart thuds, and she hangs up before you can even say something back. 
for twenty minutes, you wait near the entrance of the school, fiddling with your phone until sana texts you to come meet her. finding the car quickly, walking towards the sleek, gray two–seater of her vintage mercedes, and opens the door to see sana grinning at you. a pair of dark sunglasses sit on the bridge of her nose. 
“hi,” sana smiles. 
“hi.” you say back, hating at how shy you still get around her, considering. sana, though, always appears to take a bit of pride to it. 
she chuckles, leaning back in her seat and shifting the car into drive, pulling into the main road. you settle in to watch the hypnotic motion of her hands as she turns the wheel—it almost makes you nostalgic for some reason. 
“so,” sana says, turning onto the street. “how was class?” 
“fine. just sat through a lecture.” 
“about?”  
“well, just the study of psychosocial development of erickson. how the different stages can be embedded by sociological challenges. you don’t want to hear the rest from me.” 
“ah.” you suck a smile in; seeing the cogs in sana’s brain turning. “sounds interesting.” 
“it’s a lot to cover. my professor was telling us about how some guest speaker that’s gonna be presenting next month. apparently she specializes in existential psychotherapy so i’m thinking of seeing that when it comes.” 
“that’s really cool. do you know the name?” 
“no.” you appreciate the effort that sana is showing. elizabeth, as wonderful and cool she was, tended to block you out sometimes: on the occasion she ever needed to. “what about you? how was work?” 
sana groans. “terrible. a guy was rolled in with a bullet wound and was hemorrhaging like crazy. i was able to stop the bleeding and get the bullet out, but the anesthesiologist almost od’d him and killed him. idiot.” 
“wow,” you say. “is he okay now?”
“yeah. but i’m never having that dumbass with me at the table again.” 
“you might have to, though. you’re a new doctor, sana, i don’t know if you have the luxury of writing off your co-workers.” 
sana smirks. “i might.” 
flicking the blinkers on, she turns on the road that leads them deeper into the upper west side. sana drives into a small parking lot behind a tall building before pulling into a space. once the car shifts into park and the keys are yanked out, you step out, mouth parting as you take in the veritable skyscraper in front of you. 
“you live here?!” 
“yeah,” sana says, taking your hand. seeing the stupefied expression, grinning and leading you inside. a red-headed doorman greets sana as you make your way across the lobby. the elevator didn’t even feel like an elevator and once you got past sana’s front door, you’re in full flabbergasted mode—eyes open like saucers. sana smiles at your gasp but when her eyes flicker to you they narrow. 
“i thought it would be a penthouse of sorts.” 
“trust me, it is but at the same time it isn’t.” 
sana’s apartment may not be as lux as you initially thought, but it’s still nice regardless. you can tell that it was costly, dark furniture andwide, open spaces and tall windows. the walls are painted with a light grey. a flat-screen plasma tv hangs in her living room, mounted over a fireplace. the black velvet leather couch is in front of it, clearly brand new. 
her voice echoes the walls. echoes. you’re left marveling. “are you hungry?” sana asks from the dining area, “i have some food from the other day.” 
“what do you got?” 
“some leftovers from this dimsum place, pretty good actually.” 
you giggle. “i thought you would have a much more sophisticated diet to fall back on.” meeting her at the kitchen island while she opens the box of food, tossing a bite into her mouth while you’re scanning through the dumplings. 
“this is delicous.” you say in between bites, sana leaning over pressing a kiss to your temple. “you’re not eating as much, not enough craving?” 
“i had some food earlier.”
“how earlier are we talking?” 
“before i scooped you up.” 
you hum while she feeds you another bite of the warm dumpling that melts so tenderly into your mouth. 
the relaxing downtime with sana felt like a completely different world in her house. you got to know sana’s rough run down backstory of how she got to some form of power when it comes to dealing with which practitioner helps with her or not. being well-connected in her line of work was something to be fortunate with, but sana doesn’t like the idea of wealth being wrapped around her. sure, her clothes may be nice, demeanor brash and language abrasive at times, but she sees the world in a more different light compared to tzuyu and elizabeth on the topic of privilege. 
as for how she got into her career of being a surgeon, she signed up for dual-enrollment in the last two years of her high school to graduate early. the calling of med school already being long in terms of time, so the sooner she could get out, the better. 
“i like that,” you say. “i like how your mind works. i like—”
you. you almost say it. and it aches to not project it, the sudden sting of yearning. you, you, i really like you.
but catching yourself tripping up was something more of a simple defensive mechanism. “the story,” you finish. “pretty funny.” 
“i have better ones.” sana says, grin lighting up her face, more radiant than sunlight. and her obliviousness burns twice as hot. “do you wanna hear about the time my friend bang chan and his best friend felix got mutual restraining orders back in college?” 
you’ve read the name of tobio kageyama for probably the thirtieth time in two manga volumes before your mind decided to call for a needed break. 
sitting upright from the couch, stretching and popping joints across the body. a look at the clock shows that it’s a little past eight, realizing that you’ve studied for roughly about two to three hours. too bad you didn’t notice it before because your brain is already bugging and battered into mush. 
so you head to the kitchen, glass cup filled before drinking it once or twice before noticing that sana hasn’t drank any water since she took up a fortress in her office two hours ago, claiming that she had a work call. you fill another glass again, dropping a few ice cubes, before making your way towards her office door–knocking once, “hey, you busy?” 
sana’s voice sounds muffled, weary. “no, come in.” 
entering the room, hesitant like you were intruding on some sacred space. like the rest of her house, sana’s office was nice, richly-furnished. she has a tall, wooden desk in front of her, several files and stacks of paper placed on top. there’s a bookshelf behind in the corner, thick tomes marked by names that you don’t even want to try to read or recognize. the walls are also painted in a dark gray, and there’s a leather couch off to the left side with a blanket placed over it. even sana needs to have her naps sometimes. 
sana then calls for your attention, glasses perched on the bridge of her perfect nose. “did you need something?” 
“no,” you say, inching closer. raising the glass, “i just wanted to get you some water.” 
she smiles in thanks, taking it from you while she approaches with an outreaching hand, grabbing the glass downing it in one gulp. frowning with a mild concern once she gave you back the glass, “were you thirsty?” 
“a bit. i didn’t feel it until now.” 
“are you hungry?” 
“not right now. i’ll eat when im finished with this.” 
“you should take a break,” you say, stepping towards sana. you lean back with your butt to the edge of her desk, half sitting. up close, you can see sana’s stress more evidently, eyes low with exhaustion. “sit on the couch with me. we can watch something together.” 
“i can’t do that, y/n.” 
“why not?” would a short film be better?” 
“i have paperwork. a lot of paperwork. not to mention forms, test results, patient files. i want to try to get through them by tonight.” 
“and you will,” you reply softly, stepping between her legs, resting your hands on her shoulders. “just ten or fifteen minutes of your time, please.” 
“no way we’re watching a movie in ten minutes.” 
“not the movie, you idiot. i was gonna say food instead, you should eat.” 
“‘m not hungry.” 
“not even a snack?” 
sana lets out a smile, placing her hands on your hips. “i appreciate you for being concerned, baby, but i’ll be done soon. i promise. then we can go get something to eat together.” 
looking down at the ground, hands still on shoulder. you’re smoothening the crinkles of sana’s large shirt, fingers brushing up from her neck up to her hair. you lean down and kiss sana fully on the lips, slowly, once, twice, a few times, and rest your knee on her chair between her legs. you break away a bit to pepper languid kisses across the slope of her jaw. 
“relax,” you croon. “take a break with me.” 
sana sinks into you, sighing like she’s expelling a pressure from deep within her chest. her eyes flutter closed, hands twitching around your waist, and when you dip down to kiss her throat, you feel the flushing heat rising from her body.
desire races to the forefront like a freight train, bowling over you with its inteistiey, and you’re running a hand up her thigh towards the center. sana gasps sharply into your parted mouth, fingers clutching around your waist. you’re nearly smiling. 
“you’ve eaten me out before,” you whisper. “but you’ve never let me do the same for you.” 
sana laughs but it’s off, brimming with echoes of a dark promise. “i find it more enjoyable when i eat up your pussy then have you eat mine. better for me to see you cry the way i want you to.” 
there’s a thrill pulsing through your body, throbbing dully in your cunt. you’re ducking down to kiss her again, practically panging into sana’s open mouth as you palm her through her pants. her face is screwed up with a tight coil of pleasure, eyes shut. her fingers dig into the leather armrests at her side. 
“let me,” you whisper again, almost begging. “i want to.” 
sana’s eyes crack open, solely, regarding you as though you were something to be consumed. i want to, you think with a sort of nameless, desperate sense of urgency. i want you to. 
she nods, and you kneel at her feet. 
you’re kissing through her jeans first, soft, affectionate little pecks that make sana groan, fingers sliding up her legs again. you help sana clumsily unbutton her pants, shucking it down and off her thighs. the panties are quick to follow, only first with a trail of your lips over the black-laced fabric, soaked with her wetness that fills up your nose. sana is wrecked with the effect you have on her, just some light kisses and heavy petting, making your cunt fucking clench; you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who’s wanted you even half as much. 
when sana’s panties are gone left with her shirt; the scent is intoxicating. her folds are glistening. she sighs of pure bliss when you lick up her slit, mouth lingering on her clit. her hips twitch from the initial contact. you stifle a smile when you shower a few more kisses, and she groans loudly when you part her legs, squeezing her inner thighs tightly the more you shove your face into her cunt. 
you’ve eaten out girls before, but sana was more of an anomaly. to play it safe, you experiment, trying to see what she likes best. licking at her, teasing her walls with a finger, leaving teased kisses to the area outside of her pussy. sana can’t contain herself when she pulls your head back in with her hand, moaning into her core, the vibrations too overwhelming coming from your mouth to her legs. 
“fuck,” sana moans. “fuck, y/n–baby, fuck. i’m gonna—” 
nodding at her, you don’t let up the pace of tearing up her cunt. fingers in walls and grunting into her. she doesn’t even let you breathe. the heels of her feet on your shoulders as her hands are on the back of your head, nails scratching the scalp the more you’re lapping her up. only then you pull away as she coos out locking eyes with you, the sight of licking your mouth lean with your tongue from her slick almost makes her lose it from the seat. 
“i’m gonna ruin you,” sana promises, snarling, gaze devouring, mad with want. it sends a deep vibration into your cunt while she looks up to the ceiling. “you won’t be able to walk.” 
you could’ve just came right then and there, vision whiting out at the edges. somehow you kept your sanity in check, ducking your head for more fully. humming and sliding your tongue over her cunt, nibbling on her clit and with a sudden jerk followed by a sharp groan, she cums. 
a whole assortment of papers, files, pens, and pencils are scattered to the floor as sana digs her hand beneath your shirt and rips it off of you. your lips meet hers for another frantic kiss, laying back as she’s settling over you. 
she shoves your sweats down along with your panties, letting them dangle from your feet. sana then moves back to your chest, hands moving like a firebrand, searing your skin with every touch. desperate to feel more of it, you sit up slightly and unclasp your bra. the second you’ve tossed it, sana’s hands are quick to palm, mouth hot against your own as she swallows your keening sigh. 
“you have the most perfect tits in the world,” sana breathes, thumbs circling your nipples, forefingers roving down to pinch. the sweet pleasure-pain sparks a heavy throb in your core, and she arches into you, spreading your legs wide. you moan when sana’s mouth is around your breast, the other hand folding you. 
“god, sana, please,” you beg, clinging to her. your hips are twitching, the emptiness inside you turning into a physical ache. 
“what is it, baby?” sana switches over to your other mound, tongue laving over your nipple. your eyes fluttering, mind spinning at the sight. “what?” 
moaning helplessly, and her hand slides down to your cunt, thumb sliding up the wet gusset of your panties to find your clit. when she presses down, your hips jerk forward, shrieking. she’s laughing around your boob. 
“yeah, there we go,” sana sighs out, rubbing at you languidly, moving slow with the roll of her hips. “that feels good, doesn’t it?” 
“ye—ah—yes, yes it feels good.” 
“i know.” sana kisses up to your throat, sucking the soft spot beneath your jaw, lips deceptively sweet. “but you want more, don’t you.” 
more. 
your stomach seizes at the thought of it, the promise. you grasp at her wrist and sana hisses, dipping her hand beneath underneath your underwear to slide a finger inside you. keening when she adds another digit, stretching you open—another sounds leaves your mouth and sana laughs when you’re clamping around her fingers.
“you feel so good like this, y/n. so good.” she watches as she fucks her fingers in and out of you, transfixed by the sight. almost resentful of her own body. “i wish i could live in you. i wish—” 
“you could,” somehow croaking that out when she has four fingers inside. “i’d let you.” 
sana lets her intrusive thoughts get the better of her, growling while she surges down your body. your panties are up in the air as she raises a leg up, thumb petting your clit. you’re rearing up with a shout, a splintering sound, bursting, but sana doesn’t give you any breathing room. next thing you know, she has the flat plane of her tongue swiping upward that pushes your undoing even faster. 
it’s good enough to cry, you can feel the salt on your tongue when sana leans up again for another kiss before trailing down to your pussy. there’s a malformation with how the kisses are sloppier on your lips above and below, but the pleasure is good. she makes you feel like euphoria is an ever-present force that is kept within you, and it’s much deeper than the sex. the sprawling root of it is happiness, and sana. 
“c’mon, y/n, my lovely girl,” sana says tightly, jaw clenching when she breathes over your clit. her eyes hazy like she might be the one to cum again. “give me another.” 
you wrap your legs around her, canting up so that her mouth and tongue go deeper, and you both moan from it. sana’s finger finds your clit again, so wet the sound is purely obscene, but it only strokes the fire of your pleasure, makes it build higher and higher. 
“that’s it. there we go. t-there—” 
sana stops short. a bitten-off cry, and she doubles down on your clit. her fingers clench around your walls, and there’s a gentle wave—mouth parted to sigh. 
she stays for a second, pulling her hand out examining the slimy fluid between the fingers, licking them seductively that makes you roll your eyes and look away. sana just laughs at you, “fuck you, for making me like this.” 
your head hits the desk, “not sorry. i like it when you’re needy for me.” 
she huffs out, “little minx. when i’m done with you—” 
“what? i won’t be able to walk?” 
sana’s face falls flat, but her eyes spark with lurid determination as she leans in and whispers, “everything i’ve gotten in life, i’ve had solely because i wanted it badly enough. you think that doesn’t apply to the things i wanna do to you?” 
your heart hammers like a jack-rabbit. red-hot heat slowly consumes your face. “i—”
she moves off of you but keeps her arms bracketing your hips. “we’re moving to my room,” she interjects. “i need a bed if i want you to sit on my face.” 
eyes were wide open while you managed to slip out of sana’s hold, scurrying to the bedroom down the hallway. sana’s signature laugh echoes as she chases you down behind. 
it’s a bit chilly outside when mina calls you, the autumn weather creeping beneath your new coat to settle into your bones. hitching the collar up your neck for cover, and the phone is out from your pocket to see your cousin’s name. you’re repressing a sigh, picking up, 
“hey.” 
“yo.” mina has many greetings. “where are you right now?” 
“i got out of class, walking to the subway.” 
“are you by yourself?” 
“yes,” you say. “obviously. why wouldn’t i be?” 
“you usually have that slightly taller girl tagging along with you. the one with the model face.” 
“tzuyu.” you correct sharply. “and you’re not wrong, but she has her own life. you know? a girlfriend?” 
“and you? you got anyone?” 
frozen, stumbling in your tracks. mina could be asking for curiosity, but you know your cousin too well; she’s not the kind to be asking unnecessary questions. 
“no, i don’t,” you answer cautiously. 
“are you sure?” 
“why even bother asking me?” you retort, voice clipped. “even if i was seeing someone. i’d mention it right away, even with thanksgiving around the corner.” 
“i don’t see what thanksgiving has anything to do with it.”
“most normal people introduce their partners to family, mina. not everything personal is some dirty little secret.” 
“don’t you dare try to get snippy with me. i was just asking a question, not cuffing you to a table for an interrogation. chillax.” 
you’re cringing with knitted brows, stepping down the stairwell into the subway station. it’s a lot warmer, “whatever. i just wanted to know why you were asking.” 
“i was asking because you haven’t been calling me lately. i figured that someone else was taking up all of your time besides auntie.” 
your jaw tenses. there’s this wave of guilt that makes your clinch your lip, voice much gentler when you follow up, “i’ve just been busy, mina. you know that.” 
“yeah?” the customary ten seconds of loaded silence pass before mina adds, “speaking of busy, don’t come down for thanksgiving this year. i’m gonna be busy with work.” 
work. the nameless occupation mina had never bothered explaining to you, not since you were in your teens. you’ve had your own suspicions and theories, but you never even had the frame of mind to confirm them yourself. 
even with the disappointment; it’s actually comforting in a weird sense. “that’s fine. i have finals to get ready for anyway.” 
“you’re not upset by this?” 
“no.” 
“and you’re not lying to me about anything, right?” 
“no, mina.” you say, smiling ruefully. “why would i? when have either of us ever lied each other about anything?” 
good as dammed, but there’s no care for it. i wouldn’t even matter anyway. it comes as a concern for how little tinges of that feeling is there still. 
mina sighs out. “talk to you later then, if you do call me.” 
you hang up after. the lasting thought of mina doesn’t even come afterwards. 
not even more than two steps into the entrance hallway when the doorbell calls you. 
you’re freezing, eating away at the fragile patience, but when you look through the peephole. you don’t think twice about opening the door. “tzuyu?” 
she’s standing across from you, arms folded, foot tapping, and pouting. “you’ve been neglecting me.” she accrues.
“huh?” you ask stupidly while blinking in a fast state.
tzuyu rolls her eyes and breezes past you, chilling air carrying the rich scent of yves saint-laurent. you follow her into the living rom, watching her shuck off her louis vutton jacket and tosses it onto the seat. 
“well?” she demands, whirling around to face you. “tell me what did she do to you?” 
“what?” 
“your little sugar mommy-doctor-girlfriend.” 
“tzuyu–” 
“whatever she did, she’s good enough to keep you from calling or texting your best friend for a week.” 
“what?” you’re gasping out again. “a week? i haven’t…” 
with a rush of the phone, you’re pulling up messages only to notice that you have, in fact, been ignoring tzuyu’s texts for the better part of a week. all of your besties messages. the only person you’ve kept consistent contact with is sana, and the last text you sent her was–
well—best to the imagination. 
“i’m so sorry,” you breathe out, throwing your phone off to approach tzuyu, taking her mittened hands, gently directing her to sit on the couch. “i’m so sorry, tzuyu. i didn’t mean to ignore you or shuhua or irene or anyone, i just—” 
“you’ve been preoccupied with your new girl?” 
“yeah,” you admit, bit of shame hanging, but adding, “and school. dooyoung–the guy editing my thesis—says it’s coming together really nicely, so.” 
tzuyu whoops, reaching out to shake your leg. “and you’ll be presenting it next semester! how do we feel about that?” 
“pretty good.” 
suddenly, her eyes soften, shifting closer. “i was mostly kidding, by the way, about you neglecting me. i remember how i was when i first got with shuhua. you couldn’t get me away from her.” 
“it’s different, though.” 
“what makes you say that?” 
“because shuhua is your girlfriend and sana is my—” 
you stop, horrified by the abrupt burn of tears. you turn away to conceal yourself, blinking hard, but tzuyu was always quick to notice. she wraps her arms around your elbow, leaning into your shoulder. “your sugar mommy,” she finishes gently, but you flinch like it’s a slap. 
“yeah. that.” 
“if it bothers you so much, then why are you staying with her?” i’m sure she’s given you enough that you have time to figure out another way to get money. it’s not like you need her.” 
“yeah,” you reply dully, still not meeting eyes with tzuyu. your mind is playing the denial aspect a lot more tougher now. “you’re right. i don’t.” 
with all things and struggles, you compartmentalize. 
you’re refusing to think of the blooming feelings for sana more than you have to, and in the even that you can’t, distraction was the solution: school, work, friends. and on the rare occurrence as crazy it would seem, shopping. 
“an IKEA drawer?” sana asks, baffled. you keep your phone between shoulder to ear. “why the fuck did you go to IKEA?” 
“i needed to,” you answer, pushing the giant box inside of your apartment, leaning against the wall as it’s on the wall. “my other drawer was broken. i’ve had it for like, seventeen years, so i figured that it was time for a change.” 
“and you could afford it?”
a rhetorical question. what sana’s really asking if the two bundred she sent you last week was a decent enough amount that you could splurge on. clenching your teeth, flushing. 
“yes.” 
“y/n, baby. i sent you the money so that you could go shopping.”
“i did. and i shopped at IKEA.” 
“are you gonna build the drawer now?” 
“yeah.” 
“let me come over. i can build it for you/” 
“sana, it’s fine. i’ve built furniture before.” 
“so have i. in fact, i bet i could have it done in half the time it takes you to read the instructions.”
“oh really now?” cocking a brow in disbelief. “how soon can you come over?” 
time didn’t really pass, staring at sana from the bed, chin resting on your palm as you watch her hiss and curse to herself, pink screwdriver in hand. the sweat rolls enticing down the hard ridges of her abs, her hair is up and out of her face in a knot. the most exhilarating part in all of this was watching him use her shirt as a sweat rag. 
“are you sure you don’t—”
“i’m almost done,” sana snaps, eyes flashing with indignation. “just give me ten more minutes.” 
true to her word, she was nearly done. the drawer stands tall in front of her, most of the pieces already constructed and put into place. all that’s missing is the top set of the drawers, which she has in her hands right now. 
still, it’s only mildly entertaining just to watch sana. you debated studying to pass the time, but the focus wasn’t enough on your book to make it stick. reading was also out of the question, and texting irene went nowhere after she revealed that she was on a date and couldn’t speak. the news that things with her and seulgi were going well and exciting to hear, but not long after. sana’s shirt was off. 
“it’s really fucking hot in here,” had been the excuse mainly. 
“is this supposed to keep me distracted? you ask. 
“i’m not trying to do anything. if you’re distracted, that’s your prerogative.” 
liar. she’s been annoyed the second you stopped foching on her long enough to try facetime tzuyu. 
you sigh, spitefully debating on what you can do to fluster sana. the limited options, though, tend to lean more in one direction and the idea of willfully doing any of them was embarrassing. 
suddenly, she whoops. “i finished!” 
you roll over on your stomach to see sana sliding the drawer into the top slot, circling it, pulling on different knobs to test the tightness and checking for smoothness of the pulling out and pushing in of the drawers. she grins at you, triumphantly. “i told you i could do it.”
“i never said that you couldn’t.” 
“it was in your tone.”
you smile, and sana straightens up to bend something in her body. a loud crack sounds, followed by a pained sigh, and her eyes open more glazed. “fuck.” 
soon after sana is laid flat on the mattress when you motioned her, face turned towards you with a look that says are you okay? 
“my back. it’s been annoying me since work—fuck.” 
you nick your head as you cautiously glide your hands over her skin, kneading the muscle softly, and sana just hums with relief. “keep doing that.” 
straddling on sana’s ass, languidly moving your fingers up. she just melts. sana perks up when you giggle. “what?” 
“nothing.” 
“tell me.” 
“i think it’s kinda bad for you to have back pain at your age, and it’s kinda mindblowing how active you are.”
“don’t be that dramatic, i’m not that old.” 
“for someone that’s near thirty.”
“that’s a bit harsh.” 
you giggle again before leaning down, lips skimming sana’s ear lobe. “i’m just teasing you.”
“you’re so fucked up for saying that, i’m only twenty-nine still.” 
“don’t be so sensitive.” you say pressing a kiss to her nape. “not bad if you're in your early late twenties early thirties while i’m in my early twenties.” 
sana sinks into you, like clay in your hands. when you move to the ridge of her cheekbone, she leans into you, turning her head to catch your lips. a languid kiss is shared, tongues melding, unhurried, but that fire is sparked between your hips and it becomes urgent. it’s a slow grind that’s rolled out, eyes fluttering at the friction. 
you pull away while sana breathes out, “fuck,” and flips you over now that you’re straddling over her front. your hands are on her waist, and sana moves her leg up between your legs, doubling down on the notice that you’re not wearing anything underneath the shorts, lips parting. 
she leans up to kiss you. sana always kisses you, mouth consuming like she wants to suck you inside. “i didn’t know you watching me build furniture would get you so hot.”
“everything you do gets me hot.” 
sana moans and binds you up against her, hips bucking, delicious friction sending stars behind your eyes. you wrap your arms around her neck, panting into her mouth, so euphoric that you want to weep. so happy. 
when she breaks way to squeeze your breasts, a loud knock sounds at the door, startling you. sana, however, is unmoved.
“ignore it,” she says, breath hot on your neck. “ride me.” 
your eyes flutter and you’re grasping at her hair, already picturing it, the slick coming out of you on her leg, the fruition and contact deep enough to send you reeling. and then you hear it: 
“y/n!” another loud knock, more insistent. “open the door!”
shit, you think, cursing, the word flying form your mouth now. “shit, shit.” 
sana pulls away from you, concerned, but you’re already beating her in the scramble. she watches you rush to the mirror to fix your hair. 
“what’s up? who is that?” 
“mina,” you breathes, cold panic pulsing through your veins. “my cousin.”
“oh, well—”
“it’s a bigger deal than you think,” you snap. “and stay here. she can’t see you.” 
sana’s eyes widen. “what–?” 
“stay here, sana.” 
you rush out of the room and hurry towards the front door. through the peephole, you see mina on the other side, arms crossed and expression stoic. you exhale deeply before opening the door, forcing a smile. 
“hi, mina.” 
she hums in greeting, shoulders knocking as she walks past you. when she spots the IKEA box, she stops short. 
“you bought furniture?”
“yes,” you answer hesitantly, clammy fingers clasped behind you. “i needed a new drawer.” 
“why didn’t you tell me?” 
“i need to call you every time i buy furniture?” 
“no. but these things sell for three hundred bucks. it’s expensive.”
“this one was on sale. one–fifty.” 
mina makes a deep sound in her throat, unsatisfied, but her journey is continued throughout your apartment. 
“so, uh. what are you doing here?” 
“it’s thanksgiving tomorrow.” 
“oh. i thought…you told me not to come. you said you were busy.” 
“some time opened up in my schedule,” she says, and finally stops long enough to look at you. her eyes were shrewd, filled with knowing. it only raises the sirens going off in your head louder. “i decided to come see you.”
“ah,” you breathe. “well, um. i didn’t buy any food. maybe we can order–?” 
“why are you so flustered? mina interrupts. “is there something going on?” 
“what? no, no, of course–”
“mina?” icy pinpricks poke your skin, and you slowly turn around to see sana standing in the hallway. her clothes and hair have been fixed, and she smiles at mina with a polite curiosity. 
your cousin’s expression sours instantly. “who the fuck is this?” 
“mina!”
“who is this. why is she in you apartment?!” 
sana walks towards mina, unphased by the insult. she sticks her hand out, “my name is minatozaki sana. nice to meet you.” 
mina peers at sana, neck tilted at an angle that would be comical if not for the fact that you feel like throwing up. finally, she looks at you again. 
“we need to talk.”  
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orionremastered · 23 days
Note
Are there another part for shapeshifter golden tiger reader :D i appreciate your writing so much! 💕
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I've gotten another ask regarding a shifter!reader, so Imma just pile em up into one big AU. Send more shifter requests to have them added to the list! Even outside of gotham with other dc heroes would be cool. Like they've all got connections with other shifters online or sumin
shifter gang
?
Masterlist
Part One
Golden Pt. 2
It's been a few days since you last saw the pair, and maybe you're okay with that. Nights have been quiet yet cold, and you're getting excited about the temperature change that comes with spring.
Night patrols have been close to uneventful; save a kid or two there, maul a criminal of two here- the usual, in other words.
You're expecting the usual again tonight, just quiet patrolling and nothing extreme-
Look, you haven't been here for long, okay? Optimism, got it?
You're on the prowl for a missing girl, one that the bats no doubt have on their radar too, but you never know- you might get to her first. You went to the apartment where she lives and are confident that you could pinpoint her on her scent alone.
It's been an hour or two since you started looking and finally, you catch a whiff of the little girl's scent. You draw closer to an abandoned building, sneaking through structures to hide from the unforgiving street lights that flicker, forgotten by the city.
You jump onto a dumpster and into a broken window above it, landing quietly on the dusty floorboards. You can hear crying and the little girl's scent gets stronger.
Someone snaps at her as you draw closer, creeping up the stairs to the second floor. Thankful that the floor doesn't creak, you continue through the corridor of apartments, the number of each room fading from their painted places upon doors.
The screaming gets louder until you stop at a door, slightly ajar. You nudge it open with your nose and- you've luck- it's silent too.
"Shut the fuck up, dammit, you'll-"
The man doesn't get much more out of his mouth before you pounce, toppling both of you to the floor. Your fangs lock around his wrist, making him cry out in pain as you reach for the gun in his hand and throw it to the farthest corner of the room.
"Get-"
You snarl, pushing a set of sharp claws into the top of his spine. He yells curses that one should not around a child.
The window shatters beside you and two figures gracefully land in the room, one larger and one smaller by the sound of the thuds. You turn your head to glare, teeth bared and gleaming before you realise it's Robin and Batman- the duo one only fears if they're a criminal in the light of justice.
The man continues screaming, but not after giving one threatening snarl, deeper than any other you ever have.
"Leave the rest of this to us," Robin says calmly, and you're certain you like him more than the brooding knight in the corner near the gun.
He's allergic to those things anyway, so it's not like you're worried.
You step off the man's back and slowly approach the girl. She scrambles back and you remember you have blood still on your fangs. Still, you lower your head and attempt to look as harmless as a big cat can.
You can't grin when she reaches out to pet your head in case she sees your bloodied teeth. Once she realises you won't do her any harm, she scratches your neck and ears. Purring, you nudge her gently and lower yourself to the floor.
She's small enough to climb onto your back without it being too much of a struggle to stand and walk- she must be only five. She giggles, eyes red with tears, but she finds comfort in the warmth of your fur.
"GCPD has been called," the Bat says, glaring down at the criminal. You and Robin do the same. "Would you like us to take the girl to a hospital?"
You raise your head to look at him and flash your fangs, a solid 'no'.
"Whatever you think is best," Robin says, the Bat looking at him with a stare only a father could give to his son. "But wait, before you go-"
Robin smooths the short furs of your head and scratches underneath your ear. It takes you by surprise at first, but you don't snarl or bare your fangs at him, so he continues until he feels as though his father's glare has gone on long enough. "I told my siblings I'd pat you first. It's a bet, the only one I have participated in so far-" Batman snorts- "And I have won. As expected, I have succeeded."
You make a sound of amusement.
"Perhaps we shall work together again," the older of the two says. You huff, knowing you did all of this yourself, but nod anyway.
Perhaps it's time to make some friends -ones that aren't drowning in coffee and assignments, anyway.
Taglist: @veunho, @chevysstuffs, @carewerff, @xxrougefangxx, @yorkeylover
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misshugs · 1 month
Text
₃The Cameragirl³ || snc
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After a cheeky reply you might've regretted, you end up dragged into the office to have a little... talk.
contains: SMUT +18, oral (both ways), unprotected sex, cursing, pet names, alcohol consumption, no mention of Y/n
a/n: you asked, i delivered.
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]
word count: 3k
[u n e d i t e d]
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
You thought about how lucky it was for the room to be soundproof, glad that nobody will hear your screams. Although... it would be quite pleasant to let everyone know how they please you, how they touch you like nobody else.
The way you know only them could do it.
You didnt expect this to be the way you'd be doing your cardio, but it seemed destiny had some other plans.
[hours before]
You were basically shaking as they took you back onto the office, the thought of them asking about your stupid comments instead of going with the flow like they always did.
It was too obvious to be jokingly flirting this time, and they noticed.
And you were scared shitless.
You didn't know if they would genuinely go ahead with it or maybe let you know they're not interested, which made your stomach growl in response to your anxiety.
Well, to your hunger as well. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday.
They just got to sit you down on the table before listening to your poor stomach. They laughed.
"Right. You just woke up." Sam said as you shamelessly nodded your head out of embarrassment. "Then let us eat before talking it out. Wouldn't like for you to pass out on us."
"Come on, then." Colby continued, extending an arm to you, which you cheekishly ignored and stood up from the table wilst puffing your cheeks out. "Giving me an attitude? Yikes." He laughed.
"Didn't even help me out when I was stuck in Sam's arms? Yikes." You replied, walking out of the room. You could hear their chuckles before walking down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Heating yourself something to eat, they reluctantly got closer and sighed. "Hey, uh... we need to leave right now. There's this person we have to meet for another haunted place and this is the only time they have available. We completely forgot." Colby explained to you, looking back at his phone, guessing it was the message he received.
"Oh, okay. I'll be here, then." You said, giving him a side look before continuing making your food.
"You don't wanna come with us?" Sam asked.
"I wanna eat?"
"Right, right... well, we'll talk later, then. Don't think you're still safe." Sam smiled at you before walking away with Colby.
You rolled your eyes jokingly, but when they left, you let out a big sigh you've been restraining.
You were safe, for now at least. While thinking of a way to try and avoid the topic all together, you got a message. It was a mutual friend of yours, asking you to come to a party.
Quickly agreeing at the false sense of hope you received, she told you that the boys were also invited. She also agreed upon picking you up beforehand, since you weren't really going to do anything anyways so being early and prepping everything up was also a nice way to keep your mind out of the gutter.
After eating, you basically had the whole day for yourself, so you might as well prepare yourself earlier.
Thinking about them, you thought cautiosly about what to wear.
And honestly?
You felt like you needed to push their buttons a little bit more tonight. Yeah, whatever happened a few minutes ago made you a blushing mess, but at the same time, boy... the adrenaline you got from it sure was fun.
Then again, you guys weren't exactly together... so what's wrong with wearing something a bit more... revealing?
And so, it was decided. Searching throughout your closet, you found a short dress that fit your criteria for the night. With a slit through the back that went down to heaven and short slits on the side, making your thighs almost pop out.
It wasn't something you usually wore. Heck, you forgot you had it for all you remembered, but it looked so good in your skin that you just had to use it.
A couple of hours passed by and you were already at the party, getting things ready before some people started coming through. It didn't take long before the place began crowding with people.
The host, your friend, has been under the influence even before it all began. You were starting to get a bit tipsy yourself, getting loose at the dance floor whenever a good song started playing.
"Hey, quick question." Your friend yelled at you. "Where's Sam and Colby? They said they were busy and didn't know if they were gonna come." She explained. Looking at her with confusion, you then remembered.
"Oh! They're talking to someone for their next investigation, that's why." Unbeknownst to you, you were merely half right. Yes, they were talking with someone about their next location, but they also denied due to other reasons involving you.
Thinking about it, you believed they weren't going to arrive at the party, therefore, you were somewhat down at the thought. You wanted to tease them tonight, but it seems that your plan wasn't going to happen.
It didn't step you away from having fun, though. Drinking, dancing, talking with friends... it was a good time. That is, until a random dude you've never seen in your life started approaching.
Disinterest in your eyes was visible, but the guy seemingly ignored it completely and kept making the cringiest remarks you've heard in your life.
He tried to get closer to you, reaching out to your waist before you could try and run away.
Your heart racing at a thousand per hour, his hands were rough, almost certain that there might leave a mark on your fragile skin.
"Won'tcha come with me tonight, 'lil mama?" He smirked, holding you tight and close to him, making you almost puke.
"Get the fuck away from me!" You tried to scream, tried to push him away but to no use. You were still weak from your recent investigation after all.
"Now, come on. Don't do this to me, honey." Holding your chin on place, he made you look at him. "I can make you feel really g-"
"Back off dude, she's taken." You heard a familiar voice before finally setting free from his grasp. Colby was the first one you saw, taking off the guys arms from you.
Another set of hands held you softly by the waist, pulling you closer, away from him. Sam. You looked up at his face, he seemed mad.
He looked at you, now worry in his blue eyes. "You alright?" He asked softly in your ear, holding one of your hands to try and comfort you. You nodded quickly, glad that you've been saved once again.
Looking back at the guy, Colby was pushing him away. A determined stare down from his side, making the guy that was trying to gain your attention chuckle.
"Where were you, huh? When she was having fun all alone in the middle of the room? You're just tryna pull her off as well. You dipshits are nobody." He snarled back at Colby, annoyance in both their faces.
"We're not gonna let shits like you touch our girl, understand?"
You could barely hear what they were saying due to the loud music from every side, but you surely heard that last part.
Their girl? What did that even mean?
A visible smirk on Colby's lips when he turned around to look at Sam. You didn't think the next set of actions were the respond to this childish kids play, but you could feel Sam's soft hands on your chin, making you look at him and his lips interlocked with yours in an instant.
Oh fuck.
Oh fuck, what was happening?
Was there a faucet running? Cause boy you were dripping wet. These men were driving you crazy.
You caught a glimpse of the now pissed guy walking off before Sam could pull away. When he eventually did, you looked at his smiling face for a second before reality hit you like a truck.
Your face flushed with a red tint on your cheeks. Looking back at Colby who was walking closer towards you, both of them now towering over you.
"I-I thought you guys weren't gonna make it?" You asked, genuinely confused now that you remembered your friend vividly explaining they were busy.
"We weren't, but our plans for the night switched places." Colby smirked at you, making Sam laugh at the remark, even more with your confused face.
You didn't understood at the time, but their plans were supposed to be you. "We finished earlier than expected, but then when we got home you weren't there." Sam explained. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Well, she told me to come here early to help her out, so..."
"Ah, so you've been here for longer?" Colby asked, putting his hand on the slit on your back. "I guess I can't blame the guy, such a revealing outfit for so many hours..." He continued, slowly caressing your back with his hand, moving his hand down your bare skin. "I don't think I'd be able to hold it on a minute longer if I were him."
Shivers went throughout your whole body after listening to his words. "So if you didn't know we were coming, did you put this on for everyone else to see?" Sam asked, looking at you in the eyes. "I'm a bit jealous."
Your lip was quivering. The plan was to flirt back and tease them if they eventually came, but right now, you were speechless. The touch of their hands making your legs weak and shaky. A sudden hand up the side slit of your dress from Sam caught you slightly off guard, caressing your hip softly.
"Showing this much skin... Is this dress yours? Why have we never seen it before?" He asked.
"I don't.. I-I don't use it often." You managed to reply before panting at the constant feeling of getting touched by them. The adrenaline of someone possibly seeing what they were up to with you was nerve racking.
"We'll make you use it more often then, but only for us." Colby whispered, holding your ass and making you let out a soft moan. "We might as well have to find another place to chat more comfortably, what do you think, Sam?" He asked and Sam nodded.
Holding your hand tighter, he started walking away from the croud and into a random room from your friend's house. Closing the door, they noticed the music was barely heard. "Soundproof?" Sam asked.
"Seems like it."
"Most her rooms are..." You explained, making them look at eachother with a smirk before looking back at you.
"Good. You won't have to worry about screaming our names too loudly tonight then." Sam said.
"W-wha-" You could barely manage to say before Colby lifted you up and walked you to the bed.
Sitting you down, you looked up at them towering over you again.
"You're not escaping us tonight. You know that, right?" Colby began, crossing his arms.
"We're gonna have that... talk. Right now if we need to." Sam said, making you gulp.
"Can the talk be a bit more... dynamic?" You opened your legs slightly, which made them smirk.
"It was going to be from the start, sweetheart." Colby said with a deep tone, putting his hand on the insides of your thighs, quickly getting his hand closer to your heat. You sighed when you felt it, Sam fixing your hair behind your ear before getting closer to your face for another kiss.
While you kissed back, your legs closed a bit by instinct when you felt him playing with your clit through the fabric of your panties. "She's so wet, Sam." He informed, making Sam chuckle in the middle of the kiss, pushing his tongue deeper inside when you opened your mouth.
They made you lie down on the bed while your heated make out session with Sam didn't give you a second to even breathe. You moaned slightly when you felt your legs being pushed apart.
Sam slowly pulled down your dress, leaving your boobs out in the open, he separated from your lips and sighed. "No bra or anything, it almost seems like she was expecting us to fuck her." He said, pulling back only to see your whole view. "Fuck." He whispered.
Colby took off your damped panties and threw them to the floor, pushing up the skirt of your dress to have a clear view of your pussy.
You could see him licking and biting his lips while admiring the view. While sam went back to your soft, tasty lips, he began kneeding one of your breasts, playing with your nipple. You whined at the feeling, your heart racing at the touch.
Not a minute later, you could feel your legs being slightly lifted and a tongue licking your pussy, making you moan in between the kiss, letting Sam's tongue slip back in once again.
Shaking, you could feel Colby's tongue making circles around your clit, sucking at it, eating you up, making you arch your back at the feeling.
Sam separated from your lips and started giving you wet kisses around your face, slowly descending through your neck and onto your boobs, nibbling at your skin before making its way towars your nipple.
Sucking at it, you moaned softly and held onto his hair for support, while Colby kept on sucking and pushing his tongue inside of you, exploring every inch he's able to.
While Sam started sucking and licking one of your nipples, he made sure you were kept entertained. Putting two of his fingers inside your mouth for you to lick, you began sucking on them while drowning the moans in between.
From all of the stimulation, it didn't take long for you to cum all over Colby's face. He cleaned you up with his tongue, making sure to look at your erotic expressions whilst having Sam's fingers in your mouth, drooling all over them.
They both separated from you. You were filled with a sense of loss for a moment, but nothing that was going to stay for long. Sam sat behind you, making sure you lied your back on his chest while holding one of your breasts and opening up your legs.
Colby, enjoying the view, waited patiently for his friend to make you feel good. "Let's make sure you can suck us up well, yeah?" Said Sam while slowly moving the hand he had in your mouth down to your pussy.
Opening your lips with his fingers, he teased for a moment before pushing inside of you, making you moan and pull back your head on his shoulder.
One finger, then two, then three.
He stretched you up good while Colby was busy taking off his pants and looking at everything his eyes could manage from the view.
"Make sure Colby can see your pretty face." Sam whispered, thrusting quickly with his fingers. You could feel his bulge quickly rising behind you, poking your back.
You did as told, looking at Colby in the eyes while moaning and whining, your legs shaking at the feeling of being stretched out. "Colby... fuck. I need you."
"What do you need, baby?" He asked seductively, putting out his dick while you moaned at Sam's teeth biting onto your skin.
"You.. your dick... please." You whined.
"You want him to also make you feel good?" Sam asked while squishing one of your boobs and you nodded rapidly.
"Yeah. Yeah, please. Oh, fuck. Please." Pleading in such an erotic way, they couldn't just say no. Sam's fingers left you right before you were on the edge of yet another orgasm, but it didn't take long for something even better to take its place.
Colby's tip was slowly pushing in, making sure to not hurt you. You opened your mouth, taking out your tongue as the feeling was euphoric. He got closer and sucked on it before kissing you.
When he was completely inside, he began thrusting slowly but surely. Quickly speeding up when he felt you were already getting used to his length.
Moaning his name out, you looked back at Sam and whined for him as well, touching his erection from behind you, making him grunt. "Sam. Take... take it out." You panted in between moans.
And he did as told, quickly pulling out his dick while getting on his knees so that you could quickly hold it and put it inside your hot, wet mouth. "Oh, fuck." He let out when he felt your tongue up his friend.
You were quick to put it inside your mouth, bobbing your head up and down while getting railed up by Colby. The vibration of your moans sent shivers down Sam's spine. Holding your head up for support, he began thrusting inside your mouth as well.
It was a dream come true, you were on cloud 9, almost fainting at the pleasure you were receiving from both ends.
You didn't take long to cum, neither did them. After all, those teasing were killing them as well, they were just trying to hold it long enough for you to release yourself first.
You gulped down Sam's juices before pulling out, panting when he did. You were beat. If you barely had any strength before due to the recent investigation, now you were sure of it.
They made sure to clean you up before fixing your dress, giving you kisses all over your body, looking at the now visible hickeys all over your skin. "Gotta let people know you're taken. We can't have what happened before again." Colby whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek.
Breathing heavily, you nodded at them, not even entirely sure what you were agreeing upon.
"Well, that was a nice chat, was it not?" Sam said, smiling at your wobbly self.
"It really was, glad we could clear things up, right?" Colby continued. "I mean, I'm guessing you understand what we meant, right?"
You looked at him, getting your breath back together, smiling. "That you're my boys?" You asked, "Or maybe you have to explain it all over again, maybe I didn't understand what you meant."
They looked at eachother, smirking. "Then let us explain it again."
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
"come over here and kiss me on my hot mouth, i'm feelin' romantical."
thank you so much for reading <3 //also last part isn't a cliffhanger, we all know they went for round two, the end
smol taglist from those that wanted pt 3 *(sorry if you didn't want to be tagged): @oh-prettylady @lemonnightmare @honey-bees-13 @jupiter1700
~nikkõ
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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months
Text
Irresistible {7} || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader Summary: After everything, you get a happy healthy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut, fluff. WC: 4.5k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven
Your Playlist:
Big Girls Don’t Cry - Fergie
Pretend - Secondhand Serenade
No Right To Love You - Rhys Lewis
You Broke Me First - Tate McRae
Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez
The Night We Met - Lord Huron
Wicked Game - Violet Orlandi 
Charles’ Playlist:
Your Call - Secondhand Serenade
The Loneliest - Mäneskin
Roses And Butterflies - Making April
Amnesia - 5sos
Miserable At Best - Mayday Parade
Love Is Gone - Slander
The Man Who Can’t Be Moved - The Script
Charles was spiralling with every mile that grew between where he was and where you were. The only updates he had from you were in the form of photos on Instagram and his concentration went into waiting for your next post instead of the preparation for the final free practice of the day. He had sent you enough unanswered messages to know you were ignoring him and it hurt more than he dared let on.
“She’s not home yet,” he said as he caught up to Max in the paddock. It was half a question and half a statement, but he needed some sort of confirmation.
“I know.” Of course Max knew. You kept in touch with him, sending him sporadic messages when you stopped to take in the beautiful countryside on the quiet roads. It should have been a four hour drive but you were content to make it last the day so you didn’t have to think about what you had left behind. 
Max looked like he was going to say something else but he closed his lips as an arm curled around Charles’ waist. Whatever information he was going to offer was replaced with a simple, “I’ll see you later.”
Charles turned to Charlotte and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I thought you left.”
“Because we had one little fight?”
“I would hardly call it little.”
“Whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, now that Y/N’s gone things will be so much easier between us. We can get back to how we used to be. We are good for each other, Charles.”
Charles briefly entertained the idea of pushing her away but then he remembered how lonely it was sleeping by himself. It was completely stupid to even think the relationship could go back to how it was but he was selfish, if he couldn’t have you then settling for her was going to be the next best thing. 
“How about we talk after practice?” His voice was full of defeat and Charlotte knew she had already won as she kissed his cheek and let him go.
“I’ll wait in your garage.”
He faked a smile and headed after Max.
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The air was stale when you stepped into the apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as you dragged yourself down the hall and into your room. Charles’ bedroom door was still half open, the bed unmade and clothes spilling out of his drawers, sending a pang of hurt to your chest before you pulled it shut. You collapsed face first on your bed and just managed to send a message to Max letting him know you arrived safely before you let your emotional exhaustion take you under. You didn't bother to text Charles, he was probably busy anyway.
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Dawn came with all the same enthusiasm that you woke with. The skyline was a watery grey and even the birds failed to raise any sort of trill with their woeful calls down on the mariner. Dew clung in the air and on your cheeks as you opened the balcony door and chased away the stale air from being closed up for weeks since the last visit. 
Your memory here before the lockdown began didn’t hold a lot of details but you did remember the aroma of coffee drifting up from the cafe below the building. Unfortunately there was only the tang of salt and storm on the air as you inhaled deeply before making the call that was long overdue. 
As expected your father answered straight away, the confusion clear in his voice as he realised that his little night owl was up at dawn. “Hey kiddo, is everything okay?”
“Can we have a donut day?”
You could already hear him moving around the house and he must have covered the microphone as he said a muffled goodbye to a sleepy Pascale. “On my way.”
Donut day was created the day you got your first period. As a panicking solo dad he had rushed to the supermarket for supplies, but he left with mostly donuts and other treats. Thankfully Betty was better prepared and soon arrived with everything you needed, along with calm instructions on how to use them. After that, any day that was absolutely terrible was called a donut day. You and your father would sit on the couch and scoff down a box of donuts until the comfort food worked its magic. 
You paced the living room until the doorbell rang and practically tore it off the hinges in your haste. You really hadn’t noticed just how lacklustre months of video calls were until you threw your arms around your dad and buried your face in his shirt. Video calls couldn’t capture the smell of his aftershave or the feel of his beard when he kissed your forehead like you were still a little kid. 
“I missed you too, pumpkin.” He pulled back to look at your face and his brows pinched together. “Rough night?”
You snorted a laugh but it cracked in your chest and your head fell down. “The last time you asked me that was in Monaco too.”
“I remember. Is this about a boy?”
You nodded and took a seat on the couch while he pensively watched from where he stood. “Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”
He huffed and went to the kitchen instead, grabbing a plate and emptying a bag of pastries onto it. “This is the closest to donuts I could find, sorry.”
“It’s okay, it’s not about the donuts.” You picked at a pain au chocolat while he took a seat and grabbed a pain au raisin. “I…”
You didn’t know where to begin or what to say, you just knew you had to get the truth off your chest so you could try to move on. Maybe by admitting the mistake you made, it might somehow ease the guilt you were carrying.
“A boy, right?”
“Yeah,” you murmured. “The same one actually.”
His eyebrows shot up his forehead.“From when we visited?”
“The very same.” You swallowed but the pastry seemed to coat your throat and you nearly choked before you abandoned it. “It was Charles.”
“Oh,” he said with a nod before it seemed to connect and his eyes widened. “Oh…well…shit..”
“I should have said something sooner but I didn’t want to make things awkward for you and Pascale but I…I really fucked up, dad.”
You could practically see his thoughts crossing his face as he remembered how you had called him the first day, asking to stay anywhere else. A heavy sigh fell and he seemed to deflate into the couch cushions. “I thought you were with Max?”
Your eyes narrowed but you didn’t deny it. “How do you know that?”
“Charlotte posted a picture of you and him the other night.”
“That bitch is a-”
“Uh-uh, no,” he tutted. “Correct me if I am wrong but I am going to assume you and Charles have been more than just friends…” 
Your silence was damning. 
“I don’t think you have the moral high ground to go around calling her a bitch then. I raised you better than that. Does Max know about Charles?”
“Max knows everything,” you admitted quietly, still feeling the sting of the reprimand. “He’s good for me.”
“Okay, so then what’s the problem?”
“I just really thought it was a chance - with Charles. We made plans, a future, I could see it.” Now all you saw was the note on the table and how he chased after Charlotte. “It was stupid and naive and I feel so embarrassed.”
“Love makes everyone stupid at some point.” Your father sighed again before wrapping his arm around you. “So Max huh? You know he’s got a bit of a reputation. Bit of a hot head.”
You wiped away the tears that had been building and scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see in the media. They portray Charles as this wholesome boy next door and Max as an angry man child. Both are wrong.”
You grabbed the pastry and ate it, this time able to stomach the idea of food, before grabbing another. It wasn’t as sweet as a donut but the sugar from the chocolate was starting to hit your blood and perk you up.
“I can’t live here anymore. Not Monaco,” you corrected when you saw his eyes widen. “Just here, with Charles. I need somewhere away from him.”
You didn’t know the exact reason why your mother left but you thought maybe she felt like this, maybe it was healthier to leave than to stay. 
“The house isn’t finished but the kitchen and your bathroom are done, so it’s livable. You’ll need some moving boxes. A lot by the looks,” your father said as he stood up and looked around the room to see your belongings strewn across the place. “I’ll be back soon.”
“You’re not going to give me a lecture?” you asked as he made his way to the door.
He scanned your features that reminded him so much of your mother. “You look like you’ve learned your lesson to me. Do you need one?”
You shook your head meekly and he nodded to himself. “I’ll be back with some boxes soon.”
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“Hello, handsome,” you greeted Max as soon as the video connected. He had just returned to his hotel after qualifying and securing the 5th starting place on the grid. “I’ve found a new hobby, painting.”
His smile brightened at your mood that had dramatically lifted in the past 24 hours and you showed him around your new bedroom. Paint bottles lined a sheet-covered table and dirty brushes sat in a murky jar of water, but you panned across the wall to show him the artwork you had made.
“What is it?” he asked with a forehead crumpled in confusion. He tilted his head trying to see from a different angle but he still couldn’t process the splatterings - it reminded him of a Rorschach test, one he was doing badly at. 
“I didn’t say I was good,” you clarified with a laugh as you also tried to interpret the design that was no longer just on the walls. It was a good thing the carpet hadn’t been laid yet. You had tried to push the hair out of your face and smeared paint across your cheek and it had ended up everywhere by the time you were finished. “It is a mess just like me.”
“You're not a mess, schat,” Max said as he sat at the end of his bed and fell back to watch the tour of the rest of the house. “Are you okay there on your own?”
“It’s certainly quieter than the paddock, that will take a bit of getting used to, but I don’t mind it too much.” You did miss the other friends you had made at Ferrari, but felt it was best to give everyone in red a wide berth for a while. You had seen how poorly Charles qualified and knew he wasn’t at his best partly because of you. You still hadn’t been able to answer his calls or texts.
“Well, you could come back, if you want, you’ll always be welcome at Red Bull.”
“If you miss me, you can just say that,” you teased and he sat up.
He combed a hand through his damp hair and you bit your lip remembering how it felt to be the one doing that. “I do miss you,” he admitted seriously. “That’s why I’m coming back first thing Monday morning - I owe you breakfast.”
“You know there are no cafes open?”
Max smirked and the sight made your heart skip a beat. “Who said anything about a cafe?”
You wanted to know what his plans were but there was a knock at his door and Daniel’s voice reached you through the phone. Max was tempted to let Daniel continue pounding on the door but you both knew he wouldn’t leave quietly and Max groaned at that truth. “Go answer that, I’ll call you in the morning.” 
Max dragged his feet as he padded across the room. “I would rather talk to you.”
“Me too.”
“Finish the phone sex already, you pervs,” Daniel shouted through the door before Max ripped it open.
“Oh, oh, yes, Max, don’t stop,” you called out, turning Max’s ears pink as he rushed to turn the phone around and show Daniel the screen and just how fully clothed you were. “Sorry to disappoint you, Danny, no phone sex - this time.”
It was only when Daniel bent over laughing that you saw he wasn’t alone. Charles was out in the hallway with Carlos and Lando, his eyes falling to the carpet when you noticed him.
“We’re getting dinner, you wanna come?” Daniel asked, and thankfully the phone rotated back to Max who looked a little torn at the offer.
“He does,” you answered for him before he could decline just to talk with you a little while longer.
“I’ll call you in the morning, schat.”
“Okay, have fun.”
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Charles found nothing to celebrate when the race ended so he made his way home before the rest of the crew even realised it. He thought his weekend couldn’t get any worse after he DNF’d. The only silver lining was that despite his better qualifying, Max had also failed to finish the race. But he still won where it really mattered when it came to you.
Charles pulled into the apartment complex and saw a new sleek black Mercedes AMG parked in one of his many reserved spaces and hope fluttered in his chest. He grabbed his suitcase and darted up the stairwell to his apartment, nearly snapping the key in his haste to unlock the door. That hope turned to ash when he found it eerily silent and every inch of the place perfectly tidy. It was unlived. 
The artwork you had purchased still hung on the walls and the shaggy rug he had made love to you on still covered the floor, but the spirit of it all was gone. The colours of the paintings were drained and the temperature controlled air was no longer comfortable. He didn’t even need to go to your room and check, he knew you were gone.
He knew you were gone the moment he saw you on the video call to Max. He had gone with his mother to her new house enough times to know what it looked like, even if it appeared that a rainbow vomited all over the walls. The truth just hadn’t really settled in until he stepped across the threshold and into the house that was once a home.
You had tidied the place as if you were cleaning a crime scene and needed to scrub away all evidence of being there except you couldn’t get it all. You still remained in the pantry cupboards where everything was labelled in your handwriting. You still remained in the linen closet where you folded the sheets and the towels into perfect rectangles. You still remained in the scented candles that sat on the centrepiece of the table.
Charles’ eyes stung as they lingered on the table where the keys to the apartment and the Mercedes sat, right next to his credit card and the picture you kept in your wallet.
Kicking the door closed, he abandoned his suitcase and rushed down the hall. His heart hammered knowing what he would find but he had to check as he pushed open your bedroom door. No, it wasn’t your bedroom anymore, it was a guest room. 
The feminine floral duvet his mother had chosen was gone, replaced with a plain white coverlet, and the windows were latched slightly open so whatever scent of yours he may have been able to save had already been cast away to the breeze. 
“Fuck!” he screamed as he punched his fist into the mattress. “Fuuuuucckk!!!”
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Max must have left before Pierre had finished partying after his shock win. It wasn’t even morning really as the sun was still cresting over the hills, and it was far earlier than you were expecting him. You thought perhaps you were dreaming when you woke to a knock and opened the door to find Max on your front steps. 
“Oh my god, are you okay?” you asked as you pulled him inside and inspected the bags under his eyes. 
“I’m better now,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. “I told you I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” you murmured into his chest before pulling away so you could look into his eyes. “You need to sleep.”
“I’ll be fine, I have plans first.”
“Your plans can wait.” You took his hand and led him through the house to your room that overlooked the mariner. Your blankets were still warm as you nestled under the covers and patted the empty space beside you. “You’re not going to be comfortable in jeans.”
“Five minutes and you’re already trying to get me naked,” he teased as he pulled his shirt over his head before he unbuttoned his jeans.
“I never said naked,” you pointed out. The air froze in your lungs as he pushed them down his muscular thighs and you swallowed at the sight before.
“I’m not wearing boxers.”
“No, you certainly are not.” Your tongue rolled across your lips as you drank in every inch of him, the idea of sleep quickly departing your mind. Almost everything departed your mind, except want. “I think I am overdressed.”
“You make a habit of that.”
“I do, don’t I. Maybe you should come help me fix that.”
Max didn’t need to be told twice, he had been waiting for this moment since he had the memory of how your body felt against his. He pulled the covers back and knelt between your legs, his hands roaming up your body and under the baggy shirt of a band he didn’t know. The morning air was cool on your skin as you lifted your arms and he discarded the shirt over the side of the bed. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he traced his lips over your racing pulse. A fiery trail of goosebumps remained where his kiss had been and he made his way to your lips before stealing the very breath from your lungs.
Your own hands went roaming, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch until you reached his proud erection. He shuddered above you and moaned into your mouth before he pulled back. “I need you,” you begged, unabashedly. “Please, Max.”
His hands reached for your panties and the lace tickled as he dragged them down your legs. Even with your begging, he didn’t immediately bury himself in you. He took his time, settling back between your legs. He gently massaged your inner thighs with his strong hands, his thumbs dancing teasingly close to your core until a strangled whine escaped you.
“Relax, schat,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of you.”
He shifted onto his stomach and dipped his head to your core. You lost the ability to think as he gripped your hips and tugged you right onto his open mouth. A wordless cry filled the room and it took a second to understand it was coming from you as you lost yourself in the pleasure Max was giving you. You knew Max had an internal drive to succeed at everything he did and this was no different. He was determined to taste you completely and drive you into oblivion with his tongue and his fingers before he thoroughly fucked you. 
Max looked wild and untamed as you came undone around his fingers and he savoured the taste of you on his tongue as he rose above you. His eyes were dark and his lips swollen, his chin was damp and his smile satisfied. 
“Hi,” he chuckled with amusement. “Feeling alright?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed, because correlating a conscious thought into words seemed impossible as your body still trembled with aftershocks.
“Would you like a break?”
You reached between your bodies and wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him closer to your entrance. “No, I want you, Max.”
“Completely sober, right?” he confirmed as the head pressed to your wet core.
“Not quite,” you teased, his brows pinching together at the words, “I’m drunk on you.”
The relief in his eyes was palpable and you cradled his face in your palm as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your bodies united torturously slowly and your eyes fluttered at the fullness when every delicious inch was seated inside, your lips parting with a heady sigh.
“Open your eyes, schat.”
You obeyed in an instant, watching him watch you before his eyes drifted down your bodies. His lip was pinched between his teeth and he groaned at the sight of your pussy taking him so well, something he made sure to tell you.
“Fuck,” you choked as his words made your cunt clench in response, each thrust burying him deep in your cunt until stars dotted your vision and you were tipped over the edge into another orgasm. “Fuuuckk…”
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Six months later. “Babe, have you seen my shoes?” Your voice carried throughout the large penthouse apartment you had moved into with Max when the season ended. 
“Here, with your dress,” he called out from the living room. 
You followed his voice and found the luggage being neatly stacked by the door. He pointed to the two garment bags hanging from the coat rack and at the bottom of the longer one were your heels, next to his polished dress shoes.
“I packed your coat too,” Max said, kissing your temple as he passed to get the car keys.
With the COVID restrictions being lifted Pascale hadn’t wanted to wait a minute longer for the wedding, so winter nuptials in February was the go. At least they were taking place in Sicily so it would be a little warmer, but of course Max would think to pack a coat for when the temperatures dropped at night. He was always thoughtful like that.
“Did you want a coffee?” you asked as you turned on the machine and put your travel mug under it. It was only a three hour flight on Max’s private jet, but you hadn’t slept well with the knowledge you would see Charles for the first time since Christmas. 
Cordial is how you would describe that relationship. The familiarity and intimacy was gone, replaced with standoffish politeness. You were both trying to find where the line could be drawn on a platonic friendship that had the history of more and it was slow going. You didn’t want anything you said or did around him to be misconstrued. 
Max made you happy, and just as importantly, Max was healthy for you. You did sometimes wonder if he tried harder to be better because he had witnessed toxic relationships growing up. He knew how that toxicity could poison and break someone so there was a conscious effort in the way he spoke and acted to everyone around him. Even Charles. 
That was why he had offered his plane for everyone to use, including Charles and Charlotte. For better or for worse, Charles was going to be a part of your family in less than 24 hours and Max respected that. Like he said, he didn’t care about your past and your future was one with him.
“Schatje,” Max called, one hand on your waist, the other reaching past you to the overflowing mug in the coffee machine. “Everything alright?”
You came back to the present with a few blinks and turned in his arms, surprising him with a deep kiss as you fisted his shirt and pulled him closer. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He pulled back to see your face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you said with a shake of your head but he saw right through it. “Everything you’ve done for me…a simple ‘I love you’ just doesn’t seem enough. I can never say it enough.”
Max’s hands cradled your jaw and he dipped his head to indulge in a slow but thorough kiss that had your stomach clenching with a fresh wave of desire. When he pulled back this time he smiled as he found the clear want and need for him written on your face. “It’s enough for me.”
He turned the machine off and poured the ruined coffee down the sink. “I’ll get you a proper coffee on the way to the airport. We should get going, can’t have the best woman be late for the rehearsal.”
“I think dad settled on the term groomsmaid,” you corrected with a laugh. You had nearly cried when he asked you to be his best man, before accepting the honour. It was fitting considering the bridesmaids were Pascale’s sons. “It’s not too late if you want to be a flower girl?”
He grinned and his eyes flicked to the door where the dress you had paraded for him last night hung. “I’m quite happy to sit back and watch.”
“If I recall, you didn’t sit still for long. I hope you have more self restraint for the ceremony.”
 “For the ceremony, yes. But as soon as we hit the hotel room you’re mine and that dress will be on the floor, I promise you.”
You bit your lip at the promise, knowing he would keep it just like every other one he had made. 
“We should probably go before I do something that makes us very late,” Max groaned, stepping away from your tempting body. 
“Ugh, fine.”
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The ceremony was more than just a wedding and it represented the joining of the Leclerc’s and the Y/LN’s, something that had surprised you and also made you grateful for having waterproof mascara. You didn’t dare look at Charles when the celebrant spoke about the union of the two families, but Arthur grinned and Enzo winked, your father narrowed his eyes and you laughed.
The celebrant, thankfully, didn’t understand.
The cashmere coat Max had packed hung over the bag of your chair as night fell and you danced with him under the open stars. The only light came from the fairy lights strung around the stone pillars that had survived centuries on the island. His arms kept you warm as you swayed to the music and you spoke quietly to each other in a world of your own.
“Hey, can I, uh, can I cut in?” Charles asked hesitantly.
You took a deep breath as you debated the question, your eyes glancing around and quickly finding Charlotte at a table with Arthur and his girlfriend. You looked at Max to see if it was okay. He just smiled and kissed your cheek, whispering, “I’ll get us a drink.”
Charles waited until Max had made it off the dance floor before offering his hand, the other coming to rest on your waist. The first step was tentative, like he wasn’t sure you were actually going to follow his lead. “You look happy,” he said after a few more steps.
“I am.”
He nodded to himself, looking at Charlotte. “Good. That’s good.”
He looked miserable. “I hope you find real happiness one day.” You were being honest.
“I had it.” And he was being honest too. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever really apologised, not properly.”
“It’s fine, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have met Max.”
“It was meant to be us, though, right?” His eyes were begging you to agree with him but you had spent sleepless nights poring over the very same question.
“I think our paths crossed to make sure our parents met,” you admitted, smiling at the newlyweds as they danced too. You had never seen your dad happier.
“You really believe that?”
The song came to an end and you found Max returning from the bar with two drinks in his hand. “I have to,” you said as you slipped out of Charles’ arms. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step away from him.
“Why?” He took a step closer, only stopping when you took another step back and held up your hand. “Why?”
You took a calming breath and steadied your voice. “Because the alternative would only break my heart again.”
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