#and her rage because we all related to that

[readsaboutreid]

Fantasies

this is smutty smutty smut smut so it's 18+, minors please dni

honestly this is just like a fantasy of mine inspired by how wildly hot this entire exchange is what can i say i'm a scifi girlie (gender neutral) and i figured it might make a good fic so here goes nothing

this is part 1 of 2

contains: unprotected sex (creampie), oral (f receiving), munch!spencer, softdom!spencer

“—but the reason the entire ritual was considered taboo wasn’t because Vulcans were supposed to be portrayed as prudish virgins, that’s all I’m saying,” (Y/N) ranted at JJ and Prentiss, gaining amused but shocked and confused stares from the two of them. When they had found out about her relationship with Spencer they might have been less than shocked but they had never seen her ramble like this in such a Reid-esque fashion.

Penelope Garcia, being ever the one to playfully tease her best friend decided to push the young agent’s buttons a little bit by playfully arguing back, “but then why all the secrecy around the ritual when it comes to other species knowing about it?” Which made (Y/N) roll her eyes in response and groan, and earning her glances from JJ and Prentiss that screamed why would you keep this going for longer?!

"Fucking Christ, Penny, you should know this, ugh—the ritual of Pon Farr is considered taboo because of the depth of emotions experienced by the Vulcans as they enter it, not because it has to do with sexual reproduction; Vulcans have sex outside of Pon Farr and we know this for a fact not only because Trip is literally told outright that Vulcans have sex by a Vulcan when he asked, but also because if Vulcans only ever copulated during Pon Farr, then Vulcan generations would always be seven years apart in age," her exasperation was nearly palpable as she ranted speedily, gaining good spirited laughter from Garcia as she watched her friend rage over something that they all knew in the end was fairly insignificant.

Spencer watched this entire exchange from his desk across the bullpen with a fond smile and a warm, floaty feeling blooming across his chest. That's when Garcia notices him staring from his desk and decides to literally drag him into the discussion, deciding that everyone must join in the procrastination socialization. "What the—hey!" Spencer barely managed to steady himself and keep from falling out of the chair.

"I wanna know what our resident boy wonder has to contribute to the discussion," Penelope laughed in a singsong-y voice as she got him to the table they were all congregating at together and rolled him right up next to the chair on which (Y/N) was perched.

She looked over at him and shot him a small wave and a quiet, "hi, love." And he melted. Instantly.

Her smile was so sweet Spencer could do nothing for s moment but respond with his own toothy, lovestruck grin. He was snapped back to reality by Garcia literally snapping in front of him and chiding (Y/N) as she said, “what have you done to this boy? Are you a freakin’ witch or something?” Spencer and (Y/n) both laughed and Garcia then continued, "so, Reid, do you agree with (Y/N)’s impassioned rant?"

"Oh! Right," Spencer shook his head, "no, she's 100% correct. The ritual of Pon Farr does not solely dictate when Vulcans have sexual relations. It is simply a period of heightened emotions and bonding for them." He looked at (Y/N) with another soft smile, proud that she had such a vast knowledge of Star Trek lore.

"See, Penny? Even the genius agrees with me," (Y/N) teased playfully, earning a chuckle from the team and a light blush from Spencer.

Garcia clapped her hands together excitedly, “Well then let's—”

“—I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a case,” Garcia’s bubbly lilt was cut off by the stern tone of Agent Hotchner as he summoned them to the briefing room. Everyone broke apart at that, following their Unit Chief to the round table. As they all took their seats Spencer made sure to sit by (Y/N) so he could secretly slip her hand into his under the table to cling to some semblance of goodness as they were filled in on the next of the worst of humanity they had to face.

Spencer and (Y/N) laid together in his bed as they always did after particularly rough cases. He ran his finger gently up and down her barely clothed back when she uttered a soft, “hey I have this, like, sort of random question.”

“Oh? What would that be?” Spencer whispered into her hair, half asleep.

“Do you have any, like, fantasies you’d wanna ?” Spencer was confused by her question and the look on his face as she looked up at him told her as much, so she clarified, “like, sexually?"

Well, now he was up. In multiple ways. He reached over and turned on his lamp and stammered out, "uh—w-what—where did that come from?" Spencer's voice rose multiple octaves while his heart skipped a beat.

"Well I just—," she started before cutting herself off and making a face that said she was thinking about how exactly she wanted to explain her thought process. "There's something I've been thinking about for a couple weeks." Her cheeks tinged pink if the soft light of his desk lamp as she shyly looked up at him through her lashes in a way that made his pajama pants start to feel uncomfortably tight.

"Oh? What would that be?" Spencer found himself echoing his first question, unable to focus on anything that wasn't (Y/N) her nipples were peeking through her thin tank top.

"Do you, um, do you remember that conversation about Pon Farr me and Penny were having a little while back?" She whispered, seeming embarrassed to be bringing it up.

"I do," he confirmed, nodding while he finally moved his eyes from her chest to her face, "why do you ask?" He leaned down and began peppering her face with soft kisses, drawing a symphony of giggles from her, before moving from her cheeks down her chin and then to her neck.

Her giggles turned to soft moans and she tried her best to form a response, but as Spencer began sliding his hand up underneath the fabric she found herself struggling to think through the haze. She finally managed to mutter a soft, "I just—mmm—the conversation got me thinking that it might be—fuck, Spencer—to kind of, like, roleplay sometime—holy shit, Spencer, please don’t stop!" His fingers had found their way to her nipples and while she spoke he began gently teasing and tormenting them.

As Spencer continued to explore the sensitive skin of (Y/N)'s chest, she couldn't help but let out another moan, causing Spencer to pause momentarily to look into her eyes. "Roleplay?" Spencer whispered hoarsely, his voice laced with both excitement and curiosity as his fingers continued their dance on her skin. "What did you have in mind?"

(Y/N) bit her lip nervously, her eyes darting around the room as if seeking inspiration. "Well," she began hesitantly, "I was thinking something along the lines of, uh, maybe a kind of Trek-themed scenario? Like, you could be a Vulcan, and I—I could be your mate?" She trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper as she watched Spencer's expression.

"And what would that involve, exactly?" he asked, his voice low and sultry, his fingers still gently stroking her nipples.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink. "Well, it might involve—uh, well, you know, some intimate bonding rituals."

Spencer laughed softly, the sound warm and low in the dimly-lit room. "You want me to roleplay as a Vulcan during Pon Farr and have 'intimate bonding rituals' with you?" he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face. "I can't say I've ever really thought about that before, but I'm willing to give it a try." He began trailing kisses from her neck down to her chest while he tugged on the hem of her shirt, pulling it of her when she raised her arms above her head for him.

He started trailing kisses down her stomach, stopping when he reached the waistline of her pajama shorts and looking up at her through his eyelashes. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her shorts and panties, and she lifted her hips instinctively so he could slide them down her legs. Spencer moved back up her body to kiss her softly on the lips before getting up off of the bed and standing at the edge, rotating (Y/N) 90° and gently pulling her until she was lined up at the edge of the bed before spreading her legs open and kneeling down in front of her slowly.

(Y/N) shuddered with anticipation at the feeling of his breath gently hitting her dripping center. When she looked down at him he was looking up at her, his amber eyes burning with lust and his pupils blown wide. He licked his lips before leaning in and kissing her burning core softly while running his tongue out to lap up some of the beautiful slickness that had accumulated with a soft moan. He tormented her with light teases from his tongue and her hips bucked up towards his mouth, making him use one of his hands to hold them down and look up at her with a stern expression that told her, 'hold still or I'll stop.'

She whimpered at the loss of his tongue, but it was only for a split second as she felt his index finger push up against her entrance. He teased the entrance by lightly moving up and down it, collecting her honey and bringing it up to his lips and licking it off before bringing his finger back. When he started slowly pushing his finger inside of her, he attached his lips to her clit and did a delightful thing with his tongue that made her nearly see white.

She reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair and gasped out a soft, "Spencer that feels so—oh god—so fucking good!" He slowly pumped his finger in and out of her, savoring the sensation of her soft walls around it. God, how he wanted to be inside of her right now. But there was no way he was going to be able to drag himself away from her pussy, not yet. He needed more. He slipped another finger into her and sucked on her clit, running his tongue around it in circles.

He kept this up and listened to her moans for guidance and encouragement, speeding his fingers up ever so slightly and feeling her body begin to tense up underneath him. Her moans began to increase in volume and frequency, her grip on his hair growing tighter as his fingertips ran across the spongy piece of flesh on the front wall of her pussy, earning a loud and desperate wail from (Y/N) as he felt her orgasm begin to take over her.

He moaned as he lapped up her juices and gave her pussy one last kiss before wiping his mouth and chin with his write and moving back up to kiss you desperately. He settled his clothed hips between her soaked legs and she ground her hips against his erection through his pants. He rocked his hips against her, finding a perfect rhythm. He moaned into her mouth before pulling back and standing up, untying the drawstring on his pants to pull them and his briefs down in one swift movement.

He took his place on top of her again and nestled his cock up against her entrance. She reached down between their bodies and stroked his throbbing member before guiding it to her entrance. He wasted no time, pushing into her immediately and groaning in relief. For a brief second he could only think in images and single word fragments. 'Soft, wet, warm,' swirled around his mind in a whirlwind of lust and pleasure as he sank into her further, burying his cock fully inside of her.

"I, uh, I don't know how long I'm going to be able to, uh, last," Spencer admitted with a small, embarrassed laugh. (Y/N)'s only response was to roll her hips against his, drawing a surprised moan from his throat.

"I honestly don't care," she panted, "I just need you to fuck me." She looked at him with a gaze that drove him absolutely mad with lust. He pulled his hips back and began fucking her with slow but moderately hard thrusts, both of them moaning as they locked their lips together again. She met his thrusts with her own movements and brought her hands back up to tale her fingers in his hair. She tugged at it gently and he moaned and started fucking her faster in response.

"Such a good girl for me, kitten," he purred into her ear. Each moan that fell from her lips pushed him closer and closer to the edge, until he was teetering at the point of no return. "You ready for me to fill you up, baby?" She moaned and nodded in response.

Her nails dug into his shoulders and he felt her pussy begin to flutter around his cock as her second orgasm took her by surprise and ripped through her body. Loud moans spilled from the both of them as Spencer felt himself tip over the edge and stilled with one final thrust inside of her. His cock pulsed as it pumped all of his cum into her.

Once he had pulled out of her he went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off. He grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the warm water before walking back out. He knelt in front of (Y/N) and began to gently clean her up. When he was finished he planted a sweet kiss on one of her thighs before tossing the rag into the laundry basket. He crawled back into bed next to her and laid down on his back.

"You're too far away," he pouted at (Y/N) and held his arms out. She moved up and settled happily within them, resting her head on his chest and nuzzling gently. He began playing with her hair and sighed happily before muttering a soft, "I love you, (Y/N)."

"Love you, too, Spence," she mumbled, already half asleep.

[rubenhopclap]

Despite Ruben having more screentime than any other RG, nearly all of it has been spent interacting with the BKs, interacting with Wanda, or literally performing.

So it is a little difficult to tell, which of these is most like the way that he is normally, the rest of the time.

But with the info of voting against Kipperlilly, and with the one moment that doesn't fit into those three categories, I think he might not even have specific beef with the BKs (or with Kipperlilly) and that's just what he's like right now.

Ruben's main characterization is that he's desperate for attention. His type is "anyone who thinks he's cool. Straight up." Not conventionally attractive, skinny, rich or popular people who think he's cool. Just literally anyone who will give him attention and treat him like he's special. I think the way that he is with Wanda is probably close to the way he is with anyone he's talking to romantically, and it's different because he's already receiving a different kind of attention. (Same thing with performing.)

The rest of the time he's consistently described as smirking or sneering, and engaging with people in a way that pisses them off. The big examples we had before Kipperlilly were Fig and Gorgug, so it might have just been that he had some mysterious problem with the BKs in particular himself. Maybe he still does, maybe he separately has a problem with the BKs for being popular and with Kipperlilly for being a nerd who cares.

But there is one single moment where we know some behavior of his that doesn't have anything to do with a specific other character. And that's the scene where Yolanda Badgood's death was announced to the school. And Ruben was described as smirking.

Now you might interpret this as incredibly callous, and it is pretty callous. But we don't know how much yet. If the giant did the killing, then Ruben might not actually have known the death was related to Lucy's death at that moment. Which would make it about as callous as Adaine dunking on the dead oracle.

But most people in that scene weren't actually reacting to Yolanda's death anyway. They were reacting to the Pass/Fail news. Max Durden's party was happy about it, but a lot of people were upset. I think Ruben was smirking about that. I think at some point during that assembly he was probably making eye contact or taunting some people who were affected by it. I don't think it's because he has some issue with people who care about their grades, they're just the people available at the moment to be a troll at. And at this point it looks like that's probably also his reason for acting the way he did towards the BKs and to Kipperlilly, because he doesn't need an extra one.

Obviously this doesn't actually make him look better as a person, than if he had been messing with Kipperlilly (or the BKs) because he specifically wanted to upset her/them as individuals. He's clearly a huge mess at this point in his life (just like every Rat Grinder and every Bad Kid). Despite my obvious bias, it's not my goal to make anybody like him. Just maybe think about him for longer than two seconds.

If Ankarna is manifesting in him at all, it seems very likely that she's doing it this way, by twisting his desire for attention into something that engages with rage.

[subconsciousmysteries]

Oh yeah it just occured to me...

This "counterphobic 6" "I'm full of shame about being a 6" *typing everyone who acts embarrassing or annoyingly as 6* nonsense was probably invented by a lot of bitchy ass 3s. Struggling with their 3 -> 6 line and hating on their integration type as we all do.

Every 3 sees 6 as a massive loser type and a shameful thing to be. Because 6s *gasp* believe in conspiracy theories and they even *faints on chaise* talk about them in public sometimes! How embarrassing to be a human being that speaks the truth! See if you're an image type and you have the vice of Deceit this makes sense.

Also part of speaking the truth is talking about your earnest feelings and how your vulnerable humanness is being violated by the corruption in the world. Another big no-no thing for 3s.

[abeltownshipslittlebitch]

Spoilers for ZR S9M24 below

ERNIE IM SO SORRY MY MUSTY DUSTY CLOWN ASS THOUGHT YOU WERE GONNA BE MAD AT FIVE AND TURN EVIL AND KILL US I AM SO SORRY YOU DESERVE BETTER

[thehmn]

It might simply be that I don’t frequent ADHD forums enough but I haven’t seen a whole lot of talk about learned social withdrawal.

As a child I made friends left and right but as we all turned into self-conscious teenagers it slowly became more and more difficult for me. Plain and simple, other people thought I was weird. For some reason I never got bullied which I think is related to something my teachers kept telling my parents “She’s such a sweet, bright child and we can tell she’s not malicious or trying to be disruptive on purpose but we can’t teach her anything”

Basically people couldn’t figure me out. I had good social skills with both children and adults, I had a good moral compass, i felt compassion and empathy for others and was willing to go against my friends if I felt they were being bullies, I taught myself English and my drawings showed good observation skills. Because of all that it was decided I should start school a year sooner than most kids and my parents were very proud. Unfortunately that’s probably one of the main reasons why I was never diagnosed with raging ADHD as a child. People soon realized I didn’t do well in a school setting but assumed it was because I “wasn’t done playing” and my ADHD symptoms were interpreted as childishness.

So as I got older my classmates started to distance themselves from me. They were always kind and friendly but they didn’t know how to deal with me and ever since then people have always been worryingly comfortable with calling me weird to my face. I get the impression it’s because they think it’s a choice on my part. To them I’m clearly of “normal intelligence” so I must be acting like this on purpose and my parents would repeatedly tell me to “just act normal” as a child when I told them I was struggling to make friends. I tried so damn hard but kept failing. I knew something had to be different about me and when I first heard about ADHD I thought “That’s me! That’s how I feel!” but my parents said that was impossible because I wasn’t hyperactive.

Because nobody wanted to help me I eventually learned to just stop trying to make friends and keep to myself. I was so tired of being told by friendly, well-meaning people that I was so weird and quirky and unique only for them to distance themselves once they realized it was permanent and not something I could turn on and off for parties. I always enjoyed being alone so it wasn’t a huge loss but it did feel incredibly lonely at times.

Things got a lot better when I became an adult, mostly because adults are generally more chill than teens so my ADHD behavior isn’t as embarrassing to them and ironically they’re often surprised to learn I don’t make friends easily. Unfortunately I learned to be withdrawn in my formative years so new friends are still a rarity. Before I really sat down and put my past into context I even started to wonder if I had autism despite not connecting with anything autistic people said about their experiences. I went as far as to be tested but wasn’t surprised when the diagnosis was negative because of course it was, I kinda already knew that. I was just looking for an explanation.

So while there can be overlap between ADHD and autism (I have just such a friend) my experience is also that oftentimes people with ADHD simply learn to stay away from social situations and entertain ourselves which ends up looking like autism to outsiders.

[luveline]

is there any way we could get badass!reader x spencer? except he’s injured this time? how does she react?

tysm ♡ cw hospital / gunshot wounds. 1.1k

"You have to let me see him." 

"It's family only," the nurse says, shrugging sympathetically. 

You grit your teeth. "That's what I'm telling you, I am his family. We've been together for four months." 

"Sorry. Unless you're blood related or his next of kin, I can't let you." 

"Spencer's next of kin is in a sanitarium in Las Vegas. I don't understand why you can't let me see him." You're trying not to shout at her, rage trembling in your aching fingers. "I understand that it's night time, and that he was admitted alone, but he was shot, he's not sick, and I can't make him worse. Please. You have to let me see him." 

When begging doesn't work, you get mean. You'd be ashamed to admit you flashed your badge if it weren't for the fact that you have no shame when it comes to Spencer. Face flushed with heat from a good twenty minutes yelling, a different nurse escorts you to Spencer's room. 

"I expect my colleagues will be arriving soon," you say. "And I expect they'll be met with less resistance." 

The nurse smiles at you, as fake as they come, but you don't deserve a real one. You don't care. Breaking rules and bending policies means nothing to you while Spencer's laying alone in a hospital bed. 

His heart monitor beeps steadily. He's sleeping, waxy face crushed sideways into a limp pillow, his stomach a lump under the sheets where he's been wrapped. He was alone when it happened —no one, BAU or otherwise, knows who did it or why. The hospital didn't know who Spencer was until he woke up after surgery and told them himself. 

And you'd been sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself (and vaguely irritated) because he didn't answer your text that morning. 

It's not hard being vulnerable with Spencer. He's your widely known soft spot, and you're unashamed. But it felt like a mistake, constantly checking to see if he'd answered your text. Good morning, I know we're supposed to see each other tomorrow but do you want to come over and watch movies tonight? Let me know had felt like I'm pathetic and in love with you and my day revolves around when you're free.

None of that matters now. In fact, it's all embarrassingly small. 

You creep up beside his bed and reach out tentatively. His hair falls out of his face with the barest of touches. He's had blood wiped poorly from his cheek, orangey streaks lining his jaw. His undereyes are dark like he hasn't eaten for days, his veins spider legs stark against his eyelids. 

You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing it lightly. "I'm sorry it took me so long," you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead.  

Spencer stirs, a groan rumbling from the centre of his chest. 

"I thought that was you," he mumbles, his fingers brushing your elbow. 

"When?" you ask. 

"You were yelling." 

Yeah, well. You need to be disruptive sometimes. "They wouldn't let me in." You're not a big crier, just seeing him like this, knowing he was alone and probably scared, it has tears pricking. "Spencer, I'm so sorry." 

"Hey." He clears his throat, your emotion starting him into wakefulness. "Hey, don't get upset. It's okay. It bounced off of me–" You groan and he laughs, though he grabs your elbow quickly after. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh." 

"I didn't say anything." You pet his face. He looks pretty even when he's in a bad way. Your chest is a pit. 

"It barely touched me. They said my feminine hips saved my life." 

"Stop trying to make me laugh," you say pleadingly. 

Spencer holds your gaze. "Stop looking so sad and I'll stop."

"Are you hurting?" you ask. You know you sound awful, a scared tone that he's never heard from you before, and you try to tamp it down as a lone tear breaks free, streaking down your cheek. "How's your pain? I can make them give you more–" 

"I know you can. I'm fine now you're here." 

You lean down to kiss the tip of his pert nose. Careful, you kiss his lips, enthused when he kisses up. "I'll take care of everything," you promise. 

The door opens behind you. You give Spencer a last squeeze and find Emily in the entrance with a bag pressed to her chest, her hair windblown, shocked with worry. 

"Spencer," she says, rushing forward to hug him. 

He's in a hospital bed and still insists on comforting her as he'd done you, arms threaded over her shoulders. "Hey. I'm fine." 

"Morgan and Garcia want to be here," she assures him, standing straight. "They're trying to keep the site clean. Spencer, what the hell happened?" 

You drag a chair to his bed and sit on his right. You don't take his hand, he doesn't offer it, but the longer his story goes, the closer you find yourself. "I didn't even realise they were following me," he's saying. Emily nods with Hotch on the phone, listening intently, repeating anything Hotch misses. 

You know you should be strong. Brave. You should be paying attention to his every word, ready to take the rains and solve the case, serve retribution against whoever it is that thought they could hurt him, but Spencer looks so tired. You can't imagine being anywhere that isn't his side right now. A blood bag fills at his side, a catheter runs under the bed, an IV line feeding pain medication and fluids into him mottled the skin on the inside of his wrist with bruise. Sometimes you have to stay put.  

Emily hugs you before she leaves. You hug back. 

"If I knew getting hurt would make you accept love from your friends, I would've done it sooner," Spencer says. 

"If you ever get hurt like this again, I'll never speak to you," you say, bringing his arm to your lips and pressing a kiss to the crook of his elbow. 

"Sorry for scaring you." 

You lay your cheek on his arm, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "That's okay. That's fine. Wasn't your fault." 

Spencer drops his chin to his chest. "Do I look bad from this angle?" 

"No. You look just as nice as you always do." Your throat burns with sincerity. You might cry again. 

Spencer nods like he's reading something else from what you've said. It's not that you'd meant to imply a double meaning, but he must see on your face how relieved you are, and how terrified you'd been. He brings his hand to your face, ignoring his cannula, to wipe the dried tears from your lashes. "You look pretty, too," he says. "Just don't cry anymore." 

[s-4pphics]

click! 2 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 5.7k 

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep, all ocs r black coded, crack, alcohol, arguments, more slut-shaming, bullying, disordered eating, brief mentions of sexual harassment/assault, sex for like a second, failed orgasms, masturbation, slight exhibitionism 

one. three. four.

A/N: heyyyyy…. how yall doin🤭🤭 a little something before i go back to work kms 

“So, lemme get this straight,” Abby pinches a lollipop stick between her fingers like it’s a blunt, adjusting the invisible glasses on her face, “The psycho just barged in?” 

“With all of her shit! Didn’t even bother to say good morning or anything!” 

It’s been hours since the squash-loving hermit took refuge in your home, and you’re sizzling with rage as you recall the events from earlier. You clocked out zoomed to Abby’s building in no time. 

“Damn… why didn’t you call security… or the landlord? She can’t just move in without signing the contract.” 

You pace around Abby’s rug-covered space, “Bitch, I don’t fuck with feds and rent’s due in two days!” You holler, “And she did sign the contract! I haven’t signed it yet because I didn’t know she was gonna show up and act like that. You’re not disrespecting me in my own house.” 

Her head shakes, “What’d I tell you? If it were me… we wouldn’t have any problems.” 

You point a scolding finger at the smirking blonde girl, “Yes, we fucking would. Don’t start.” 

But she presses anyway, “I think we’d be a match made in heaven, actually.” She rises from the couch and hovers over you, the tip of your index connecting with her strong, covered chest. Your glare persists, but there’s warmth pulling in your gut from her scent. 

Your skin is flaming; This is why you’ll never be able to have a serious conversation — or anything, for that matter — with Abby. Her raunchy remedies aren’t going to work in this situation; You’re too stressed. 

“But anyway,” Her brow arches and she backs off. Slightly. “You’re an adult and main tenant. You gotta handle it soon.” She ponders for a moment, “But to be fair, you texted her first.” 

“How many times do I have to say that I was lit as fuck! I don’t even remember— “

Abby’s taunting expression makes you pause, nails digging into the skin of your palms. 

“Don’t.”

Your hiss makes her snort, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not funny.” 

Abby knows you and Dina’s history better than anyone. Knows exactly how you got caught up in “situationship” nonsense, all with liquor and a phone. You can’t fault Abby for recognizing the familiarity, but a burning sting rests in your chest. Embarrassment spreads all over your cheeks, and you announce your departure in a rush. 

Her regret is evident in the way she calls out for you, but you’re out the door in seconds, slamming it as hard as the frame can hold. 

The winter air hits your eyes first… You try to convince yourself, hastily wiping the wet trails off your face. You’re not fucking crying over Dina. Not again. 

You snatch your phone from your pocket to ask Amaya for advice, but your heart swells when you see her messages. 

You think back to all the times she’s coddled you through your emotions: she drops everything to tend to your needs, no matter how big or small. Guilt would put you in the ground if she ruins her opportunity for your convenience; You can’t tell her. She deserves to enjoy herself. You match your best friend’s excitement all the way back to your car.

Abby called twice during the drive back home, but you didn’t answer. You know she wasn’t being malicious, but you’re sensitive, especially when it comes to anything related to Dina. 

You rip your apartment door open and find Ellie lounging on your fucking couch with Love Island playing from her laptop. And eating peanuts… with Chick-Fil-A ranch? 

You slam her device shut, words sharp as nails, “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m telling you right now, you’re not fucking staying here.” You’re shredding through skin with your glare, but she’s not reacting. Just sitting there and crunching, eyes void. 

“Don’t even think about unpacking. You’re getting out tonight, I can promise you that.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“What.”

She merely shrugs, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“What the fuck— “

More cracked shells, more munching; Your eyelid is jerking. 

“Rent’s on the counter, by the way.” 

You hold back a scoff before marching into the kitchen, eyeing the envelope labeled fake ass mortgage. You hear the contestants from the reality show resume their dialogue, but you’re locked on how thick the letter looks to bother scolding. 

It’s torn open… and filled with hundred-dollar bills. Way more than half of rent. Ellie might’ve covered the heat bill for the rest of winter. 

“I thought you were a fucking photographer.” The shock in your voice is clear as day, mindlessly returning to the living room. 

“I am.” She calls dryly. 

“No, you’re not.” You toss the money on the coffee table. “The fuck do you do on the side? Sell drugs to freshmen?” 

“Sure.” 

When your arms cross over your chest with an accusatory stare, she sighs. “I told you. I take pictures.” 

“Of who? The fucking councilman?” 

Another shrug. “Whoever asks. It’s how I make money…” A light pause. “At least until I secure this job.” 

You squint at her, “I thought you got evicted. You’re clearly fit to pay rent on your own.” 

That seems to shake her a little, staring back with hardened eyes, “And who the fuck are you to question me? The reason I’m here is because of you!” 

“Exactly! This...” Arms waving around the living room. “…is my fucking space! You’re a straggler at best.” 

A weighted huff escapes her before she tosses her snack on the table and stands, leaning over the table. 

“You would’ve been in the same position as me if I didn’t show up. No where to fucking go,” She spits. “If you want me gone, fine. But when your landlord comes knocking on your fucking door asking why you’re two weeks late, don’t say shit to me.” 

You waver slightly and she notices, smirk darker than her pupils. You’re steaming; Smoke is going to come out of your ears soon. 

“The same goes for you. I don’t wanna hear your fucking voice, and don’t touch anything that I paid for,” You command, “Don’t even breathe in my space. Stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.” 

A condescending grin plasters onto her face. 

“Where’d you hide that lease?” 

Your heart is too weak for hatred… or so you thought. 

Abby, Amaya… everyone you’ve fucking talked to about the bitch right across the hall thinks that she’s dangerous and sick and out for blood. 

They’re all wrong. It’s you. 

Ellie is conjuring up something villainous deep inside you; Her childish antics started off small: bumping against the wall in the middle of the night, leaving her dirty ass shoes out of place by the front door, not laying the rugs that she slipped on flat… Incredibly annoying, but fixable. 

You took the time to construct a new roommate agreement that fit your unique situation the morning after your argument. It was sloppily scribbled on a crumpled piece of construction paper, but it was a symbol of peace. You taped it to her door before you left for your shift, only to return and see it ripped up and scattered in front of your door. 

It’s been five days since then. Five, and you can already feel a bald spot forming at the back of your skull. To think that Ellie was your first option as a roommate just days ago is laughable now. You know that none of the tricks she’s pulling are accidental. You pride yourself in being observant, and you always catch that prideful look on her face when she nails one of your peeves. 

You try to be here when Ellie’s not, but she’s always home when you are. Music blasting in the wee hours of the night knowing you have three upcoming shifts to cover, on the couch rewatching the same episode of Love Island over and over while you make your breakfast, pretending to talk on the phone to friends she doesn’t have as loudly as possible. You’re fucking tired and you’re holding your hand back from slapping her. 

But the worst part is that she’s stocked your fridge with fucking squash. Top to bottom in all colors there is. Filled the drawers with one called cucurbita argyrosperma. You were torn between curling in hysterics and beating it over your new roommate's head; The petty side of your brain wishes that you were allergic so you could “accidentally” eat some, die, and get her locked up, but you hushed it. She’s fucking with you, but rent and some bills are paid for the month. What a sick turn of events. 

You’re plotting, though. Something’s brewing, and Abby’s helping you. It’s finally Saturday, and college kids are fiending for a rager. 

The only quality that you respect about Ellie is that she’s clean. She washes her dishes, does her laundry (separate from yours, thank God), and she’s deep-cleaned the bathroom twice already. Ellie despises large messes more than you, though, since you’re willing to sacrifice your tidy abode to piss her off. Let the ruckus in!

You heard her leave early this morning, and you’ve noticed that when she’s gone, she’s gone, which gives you all the time to plan. You skip to the bathroom like a kid in a candy store, showering, brushing your teeth, doing skincare. You whip up the hardiest breakfast you can before your mall venture with Abby; It’s been days since you’ve last nutted, and you need a new vibrator. And new paintbrushes. 

“… Why haven’t you beat her ass again?” 

It only took Abby buying food for you to forgive her. You slurp down your strawberry milkshake, “Fear of permanent imprisonment.” 

“Does Maya know what’s been going on?” Abby asks, shaking her head. 

“Fuck no, and she’s never going to. Have you seen her Snaps?” You whip out your phone and show her Amaya’s stories; She’s exploring and meeting new people. “She’s having a ball! The second I tell her what’s been going on, she’s gonna drop everything and come back. I’m not doing that to her.” 

“You’re the only outlet I have, so suck it up and listen to me bitch and moan.” You continue, “Who’s coming tonight?” 

She smiles, “As many as I could get.” 

“Please tell me Armani’s coming.” 

“She is, for sure.” 

Your heart flutters. Armani… She’s everything you could ever want and need. She’s kind, smart, drop-dead gorgeous, and she bench presses with Abby on the weekends. She has your clit jumping like a salmon in the freshwater, and you’re going to see her tonight. 

You jump awake at your alarm, eyes stinging as you glance at your phone. It’s a little past nine; Pregaming hours. 

You throw your lazy body into the shower and conduct your special-occasions ritual, blasting your music as loud as the speaker would allow, scrubbing your body with exfoliant to your heart's content. 

You exit, water cascading down your shoulders and back, towel engulfed around your body. You have no idea what to fucking wear; What color does Armani like? Do lesbians qualify for the red nail theory or is that something heteros made up for TikTok followers? What if she doesn’t like eucalyptus scented body wash? 

You swallow your doubts with a shot glass. 

Outfit prepping takes longer than expected, but you’re dressed, titties are out, and your thoughts are swirling like the liquor in your gut. You should call Amaya and tell her you love her—

Another shot, more dancing. You’re spinning around your small room to the bass of the beat, sloppily pulling every shot that you can, back arching and hips throwing in any direction they can. 

The bass sounds louder the more you dance, every thud rattling the poster-covered walls of your room. 

It’s not until the bass surpasses the song that you realize it’s not bass at all. It’s knocking… on your bedroom door. You snicker; Abby’s here with your girl. 

You don’t know why she’s boxing with your door, though. Beating the shit out of it. When you yank it open, you’re instantly annoyed at who appears behind it. 

A… gray sweat clad Ellie propped against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest and red hairs framing her face. You force your eyes upward, right in between hers. The dots on her face look like skittles. Since when does she have a fucking tattoo? Are you hallucinating or is it a fat ass leaf with eyeballs?

You barely registered what she said, “Can you turn that off? It’s almost eleven.” 

“Why, absolutely-the-fuck-not.” You slur, and she cringes, nose wrinkling at the scent of liquor on you. “Where’s Abby?” 

Ellie’s biceps are… out on the prowl. And the veins in her hands are still there. Just checking. Right between her eyes again. 

“Who the hell is that?” 

“My bitch.” You chuckle.

Ellie’s eyes widen and you correct yourself. 

“N-Not bitch like whore. Bitch like… like, that’s my bitch! She’s great, love her. BFF… not over Amaya, though.”

Ellie’s getting annoyed; Her nose won’t stop twitching. “… Is she coming over?” 

“She should be on her way.”

“Is she stupid?” 

“What.” 

“Is your… bitch stupid?” 

“Um, no, she’s not fucking stupid. What the hell are you on.” You snap, offended for your friend. 

“Tell her to stay the fuck home before she gets buried.” 

… Did Ellie just threaten to kill one of your sneaky-links? Before she gets buried? 

“And what the fuck are you gonna do? Just so you know, whatever you do, she’ll double it and send it back! And I’m jumping in, so— “ 

Your roommate’s gawking in disbelief. “… I meant buried by the snow, you fucking idiot. There’s a blizzard outside.” 

You’re flatlining, you can feel it. 

“There’s a what.” 

“Check the damn news.” She pushes herself off the wall and turns towards her room, “And go to bed. Looks like you need it.” 

Her door slams shut. She’s definitely poking fun at your eyebags. You thought you did a good job at concealing them. 

A fucking blizzard? December just started. You check your phone, reading the influx of messages from your dad, Amaya, Abby telling you to stay safe and indoors and the party’s cancelled because of the storm and you want to fucking die—

You tear a slit in your blinds and… yup. Pure white is pelting from the dark gray clouds in the sky, the formerly black street painted ivory with ice. Not a car in sight, and if they are, they’re covered entirely. 

The harsh reality hasn’t even set in yet. The girl you want to strangle is trapped inside with you; She’s not going anywhere, either. You’re going to be forced to see her everywhere in your two-bedroom apartment. And you’re not having sex tonight. 

Plan PISS-ELLIE-OFF was a bust. You’re drunk and hungry—

Your eyes bulge; When was the last time you’ve gone grocery shopping? 

You clumsily rush to the kitchen, nearly ripping your fridge door off the handle. When you're met with the pack of cream cheese and mini croissants you bought last week and all of Ellie’s fresh groceries (including squash), you almost start crying. You slept away all your pre-storm chore hours. 

Ellie pads in the kitchen with an empty ice cream carton and spoon, headphones blasting in her ears. She doesn’t acknowledge you as she throws away the carton and grabs the unopened bag of salt and vinegar chips. Your mouth waters. 

You watch as she rips the bag open, the salty, bitter aroma traveling into your nostrils. 

“Ellie.” She can’t hear you over the fuckery penetrating her eardrums! 

You tap her shoulder harder than necessary. “Don’t touch me.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THERE WAS A STORM?”

Her veiny hand — fuck — pushes one of her ear cups over to the side, not even bothering to look at you as she fills her bowl to the brim with the crunchy snack; You never noticed how heavily pierced her left ear is. 

“Who are you again?” 

Alright. Your tongue gets loose, “You know, you don’t have to act like a fucking cunt all the time! I tried to be nice to you and—” 

“Yeah, ‘cause shit talking me with your friends is so fucking nice.” She scoffs and turns, pointed glare set on you. Your stomach drops. How the fuck did she know that?

“Drop the fucking act already. You’re also a cunt…” Her eyes drag over your appearance. “Amongst other things, evidently.” 

Ellie’s eyes hold so much disdain, and you instantly feel exposed and gross. Your face sears with embarrassment, arms mindlessly crossing over your chest in attempts to cover up. 

“… What the fuck does that mean?” You know what she means. 

“You think I’m a fucking freak and a loser and a bunch of other shit I’ve been called since forever?” She sneers, “Then you’re a fucking slut. How’s that for nice?” 

Your body locks up, freezes, and you fight back vomit. Ellie grabs her bowl and exits the kitchen, door slamming shut, leaving you to simmer in her spite. 

You don’t feel hungry anymore. 

You didn’t drink enough last night. You’re awake, and you remember everything. And you’re so fucking hungry. 

Guilt festers in your chest like rats, and anxiety is building in your fingers. Your head hurts so bad and your mouth is dry, but you refuse to move from under your blankets to get water. You didn’t even have the energy to take your make-up off last night, mascara and small sparkles smeared all over your pillowcase. 

You wallow, using the heavy wind outside as stress relief. People really think you’re a whore with no self-respect, even after a year. Your heart’s hitting against your ribcage at an alarming pace. Deep breaths, that’s all you can do. 

Tears jerk in your eyes as you recall every unwanted stare, every cat-call, every grope and dirty text message you’ve received from people you both know and don’t. You freeze and… that’s it. You just don’t move and hope they can read that you’re scared. 

Does Ellie feel the same way when people talk poorly about her? 

Your breathing techniques aren’t working so you sit up, shaking your hands and digging your palms into your wet eyes. You’re suddenly too hot for blankets. 

Your clock reads near noon; You’ve been awake for hours. Your feet plant on the cool wood and sigh in relief before standing and snagging your new paint brushes off your dresser. 

Your hands tremble as you fill a water cup and grab a black canvas, setting up your workspace on the floor. You squirt hues of blue, green and white on a dried paper plate and let your brush do the work; You’re not thinking, just painting, smudging, trapping yourself in emptiness. The scene you’re creating is drying your tears; You wish you could escape into the grass field, even for a second. 

Your water cup is brown by the time you finish; How long have you been sitting here? The needles in your legs tell you long enough. Your vision will have to wait. 

You unlock and quietly open the door… It doesn’t matter, though. Ellie’s awake and silently sitting on the couch. You pay her no mind and venture to the fridge for your croissants and cream cheese, throwing your pastries in the microwave. 

Eyes are on you. You feel them in your back. 

When the microwave dings, you spread cream cheese all over the buttery dough. Ellie’s hoarse voice freezes you. Not again. 

“The blizzard… isn’t stopping.”

You finally inspect your roommate: leg bouncing and brows furrowed, nails between her teeth, eyes locked on the window that shows the heavy snowfall. 

“Usually how they work.” 

Your sarcasm doesn’t move her, “They said it would pass after a couple of hours yesterday! It hasn’t let up yet!”

“Never listen to weathermen. They make shit up as they go.” You keep your voice curt while you make your plate. It looks a hot mess; You wish you had blackberry jam. 

“They can’t make shit up when there’s money on the fucking line!” You hear footsteps from behind you; Ellie’s pacing. “I have a client today. Their photos were supposed to go in my portfolio before I submit it!” 

Her statement makes you pause. You didn’t think about that; It’s impossible to travel anywhere at the moment. How the fuck are you going to get to work? You can’t afford to miss shifts. It’s almost that time of the month. 

“This was one of the biggest bookings I’ve gotten and I’m gonna miss it because of the fucking weather!” 

You don’t know why she's talking to you, so you cut the conversation short. “You’ll figure it out.”  You enter your room without another word, slamming the door as hard as noise complaints would allow. 

After a few minutes, Ellie’s door slams, too. 

Hours pass and you’re covered in paint. Your one flower field turned into three, one with detailed butterflies, one with raining rose petals, one with your mother’s name spelled out with clouds. 

Your fingers are sore, but you feel lighter. Those croissants wore off a long time ago; You’re starving. What you’d give for grilled eggplant and shrimp with Greek yogurt and lemon juice—

A soft knock lands on your door, and you stiffen. You stand, legs popping and arms stretching over your head as you wobble to your door. 

The second it opens, you're hit with the smell of garlic and herbs and your mouth waters. Ellie stands over you, playing with her fingers. You don’t register that you’re missing pants until she gawks at your bare legs; Warmth spreads across your body and you maneuver so she can’t see them behind the door. 

A moment of awkward silence before she chokes, “There’s, uh… there’s soup on the stove.” You scoff, ignoring the growling in your stomach. 

“I don’t like squash, Ellie.” 

The door slams in her face and she sighs behind the wood. 

…

Later that night, you sneak into the dark kitchen, the big pot of soup still on the stove. You open the lid and inspect its contents: shredded chicken, carrots, fucking… green leaves of some sort. You grab a spoon and taste it to be safe. It’s good, and there’s no squash in it. You eat two warm bowls. 

The storm calms when you wake the next morning. Thank God; You haven’t had coffee in days. 

Ellie’s gone for the day, so you blast music while in the shower. You dry and dress in silence, yanking your underwear and jeans up your legs, throwing on a pair of earmuffs over your earphones and a puffer. 

You almost slip on the ice from the sidewalk on the way to you and Abby’s coffee shop before heading to class like normal. You go grocery shopping before your first shift. 

Work drags on like normal, legs numb from standing and throat dry from sale attempts at checkout. Who the fuck wants to apply for a credit card for a coffee machine website? 

It’s not until your shift is on its last limbs that your heart stops in your chest. The bell rings to the hardware store, and you instantly rush to the back to retrieve your other coworker. It’s Dina. What the fuck. 

You burst into the break room, “Raja, Raja, I need a favor.” 

She slurps her ramen, exclaiming what around her soggy noodles. 

You search for any heads and whisper, “There’s someone I used to fuck outside! Can you take care of her, please, I can’t— “

“Okay, okay, damn. I got it— “

The service bell rings, “Go, go! Hurry up!” Your coworker swallows her noodles and plasters her smile on her face. You hide behind the cracked door and listen to everything. 

“Hey, ladies! Sorry about the wait!” 

“No problem!” Dina’s laugh sends a pain in your chest, “I just needed a new bike lock. Someone tried to steal mine, like, what the fuck.” 

There’s an unfamiliar laugh that melds with Dina’s. “No problem! Would you like to sign up for a Coffee Brewers credit card with your purchase? They’ll repair all filter baskets and decanters for 45% off!” 

You almost smile; Dina doesn’t drink coffee. Raja checks them out, and you peer out the small opening of the door. Dina and… whoever the fuck that is are snuggled up behind the service counter, her head resting on the random’s shoulder. They’re whispering and laughing and you’re disgusted. And sad. 

They depart with a small bag and Raja almost smashes the door into your face. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Mourning.” 

“Damn… sorry, man.” 

You shrug and thank your coworker before returning to your position. What could’ve been. 

It’s late when you get home. 

Ellie’s on the couch; You feel her watch as you unlace your boots and unravel your scarf. You set your bag on the floor and grab your Cheesecake Factory brown bread loaf for your grilled PB&J. Ellie clears her throat; You say nothing. 

She coughs louder when you butter your bread. 

“Are you sick or something?”

Ellie whips her head around, “No, why?” 

“You’re coughing like you’re gonna die.” 

Your roommate doesn’t reply, so you turn and toast your bread on the stove. 

“How was the soup?” 

Your eyes bulge, “Huh?” 

“Did it taste… like, decent?” 

You stare down at your sizzling toast, “I dunno what you mean.” 

Voice flat as ever, she says, “The soup… you had some— “

“No, I didn’t— “

“Wha— I know what was in the pot when I ate. You had some—” 

You face her, skin boiling, “Okay, and what about it? Yes, I ate some! I would’ve had three bowls instead of two if I wasn’t so fucking tired! It was good as fuck! I slept like a baby!” 

She calls your name but you ignore her, “Sorry, I got my disgusting, slutty germs all over your stupid chicken noodle soup! Is that what you wanna hear! What, are whores not allowed food, either?! Why’d you offer it to me then?!” 

Another rushed call of your name, but you press on, “Y’know, you’re actually weird as fuck! Who calls someone a filthy, bottom of the barrel gutter rat then offers them soup the next day! What kinda limbo fuckery are you playin’ at— “

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP… BEEP—

You gasp when the fire alarm sounds. When you turn, your toast is charred black and surrounded by dark smoke. You cut the heat off and push the pan over. Ellie’s running with a towelette, waving it around the beeping alarm. 

You grab a washcloth and help her, and eventually it cuts off. Ellie rushes over to the front door and switches the ceiling fan on. 

Your sandwich is fucking ruined. Great! 

You don’t know why you’re sobbing, but it’s loud. You just want to go to fucking bed. Ellie’s just standing there with a towel in hand, fiddling with her earlobe. How embarrassing. 

You push yourself off the counter and turn to go to your room, but Ellie calls for you. 

“What?! What now, Ellie!” 

She cringes, “I— You’re not a… slut?” 

Your teary eyes squint at her. “Are you asking me— “

“No! No, I’m… Sorry? You’re not a slut.” This is the weirdest apology you’ve ever received in your entire goddamn life. 

“Well, fuck me! Thanks!” You snark between sniffles. You yank your bedroom door open.

“You’re good at painting!” She shouts, and you stop. 

For some reason, you sob harder, and she panics, “Uhh… I mean, like, for an amateur! Like, you’re decent enough!” 

Now you’re… laughing? You need to sleep now. Ellie chuckles uncomfortably, and you snicker darkly to yourself, “Life is a fucking joke, oh my god.” 

Your fingers dig deep into your wet eyes, and Ellie’s sock-covered feet pad closer. 

“Look, I’m not… I don't know what to say.” 

“Then don’t talk.” 

“‘Kay.” 

She stands there in silence and watches you wipe your face on your sweater sleeve, mascara smearing all over the fabric. 

“Why didn’t you use squash in the soup?” 

“Uh… you wouldn’t have eaten it if I did.” 

You nod and stare at the wall. “So, what? That was a peace offering?” 

Ellie contemplates what she should say. 

“Not really… I mean, I was hungry, but I didn’t care if you ate… some of it, if that makes sense.” 

It doesn’t. “Whatever, I’m going to bed.” Her lip curls like she wants to add something, but she doesn’t. 

“… Alright.” 

“Don’t worry about the pan. I’ll get it tomorrow.” And just like that, you shut the door on her again. 

You don’t have the energy to shower, so you undress and tuck yourself in. Your room is warmer than usual. 

Ellie’s been acting differently since then. 

For the past three days, she’s been greeting you whenever you’re in her line of vision. She even mumbled hi before she took her seat in stats yesterday. It’s awkward and stiff, but there’s always a wave somewhere in her movements. You nod back at her every time. 

You’re not sure where your relationship lies with your roommate, but it’s not as… bad? Seeing her doesn’t bother you as much as it did; You suppose it’s the same for her, too. 

You’re exhausted; Finals are around the corner, and you’re busting your ass. You had to get another job for the holiday season since it’s you and your dad’s first Christmas together since you were little, and you want to get him something nice. 

All you need is a good nut and you’re set for the next two weeks. You miss Abby. She’s been just as busy with nonsense as you have, but you found time to see her later tonight. 

You’re stuck in the library trying to make the concept of categorical variables stick, but it’s not working. You’re in a block because you’re thinking about Abby. She should be here to pick you up soon. 

You slam your book shut when your phone goes off, a message from… Ellie. 

You set your phone down with a small smile. What a weirdo. 

You force yourself to study for another hour. Heavy hands clamp down on your shoulders and you shriek, other students looking up in confusion, your hand clasping over your mouth. 

Abby’s laughing behind you, warm breaths hitting your ear before she kisses your cheek. 

“Hi.” She whispers. 

“Hi yourself.” 

“Pack that shit up.” Abby points at your books and messy stacks of paper. “Let’s roll.” 

You don’t hesitate, shoving everything in your bag in anticipation of your nut. Your clit’s cheering; She’s finally happy. 

You’re warm, well-fed, and Abby’s drilling the fuck out of you, but you can’t cum.

Your face is shoved into your friend’s pillow; She’s hitting exactly where you need her to, and it feels good. You’re tipping, but you haven’t tipped. You’ve been on the verge of orgasming for the past ten minutes and it’s driving you crazy. 

Your voice is barely there, “Just cuuum, just cum, just cum—“ You’re begging… yourself into her pillow. 

Abby sounds so sexy behind you; You’re shocked you’re not convulsing at the sound of her voice alone. 

After some time, her hips slowed into a stop, tip nudged inside you. 

“… You good?” She exhales.

You throw her two thumbs up. You’re not good at all. 

Abby snorts and pulls out, gently patting your hip, “Sit up and talk to me.” 

Your legs give out from underneath you and you lay flat. Abby hands you a washcloth and you wipe between your legs while she unstraps her dick. 

“I think I’m broken.” You muffle into her slobbery pillowcase. 

“You’re not broken, you’re just not feeling it. It’s fine.”

She’s too sweet. You want to cry, “I’m sor— “

“Don’t you dare. Finish your Wingstop.” 

“Okay.” You grumble. 

Abby drops you off after the movie finishes. The red string that connects her clit to yours snaps as you waddle back up to your apartment. 

You enter your shared home and you’re instantly freezing; Ellie’s not here. She hates sleeping when it’s cold. 

You and your pussy sigh in relief. Just five minutes by yourself; that’s all you need. Your shoes and backpack are thrown to the side in the nick of time, bursting through your bedroom door and rummaging through your drawer. Your cunt screams eureka when your vibrator turns on. You don’t remember charging the son of a bitch! 

Your pants and panties are lunged across your bedroom and you leap into bed. Your toy’s buzzing in your hand, and your walls squeeze in anticipation. Foreplay be damned. 

Your eyes shut the second the vibrations hit your clit, trying to imagine a sweaty Abby on top of you, fucking you deep, choking you out. Your orgasm is right there, walls desperately trying to milk the brisk air around you. You shove two free fingers inside, and your muscles latch onto them, pulling them in deeper. It’s right there, just a little more. 

“Please, please, c’mon, fuck— “

Your pleas go ignored. Your imagination has never failed you, so why can’t you fucking cum? 

Desperate sobs combine with your moans, brain filled with Abby, and Dina. Even Armani slips her way in there and you’ve seen her twice in person, but it’s useless. Your peak never comes. 

You’re seconds away from shattering your window with your fucking vibrator. You and Ellie can’t afford to get that shit fixed—

Your clit jumps at the brief image of your roommate, pissed off and berating you about breaking a fucking window. You hate that you don’t fight it, the visions of her and her strong arms, her twitchy nose, her dot-covered face. It’s stirring something vicious in your tummy, and you can’t keep your mouth shut. 

You see her on top of you instead of Abby, her short hair loosening from her bun and framing her blushing face. Pretty, moss-filled eyes stare back at you, annoyance and bother replaced with something darker. Needier; She wants you to take from her. 

“Fuck, fuck, mmh— “

Your hips buck when your positions switch in your mind, a blushing, spent Ellie, reaching for you, pulling you close, begging to touch her. 

You’re so loud when your orgasm splits your brain in two, your stress melting away in an instant, nasty, unspoken visuals of your pouty and weird housemate fluttering beneath your eyelids. You ride your high until you can’t, vibrator clattering to the floor, walls flexing around nothing. 

You’re so tired that you don’t bother moving. You pull the covers over your trembling form and knock out, not even bothering to turn your shaking toy off as it rattles on the hardwood. 

It’ll be dead by the time Ellie comes home. If she does. 

…

…

…

Ellie lays on her side in her bed, knees pulled to her chest, her tattooed arm wrapped around her tummy and a hand covering her mouth. Her face is burning hot and her stomach is swirling. Whenever she blinks, she can see you, eyes rolled to the back of your head as you surrender to your release. 

Her heart is racing and minutes away from crawling up her throat. 

She completely forgets to put in that maintenance request for your broken heater; She’s warm enough under the covers for tonight. 

A/N: hi again its finna pick up LEMME COOOOOK LEMME COOK

TAGGIES LOVE YALL MMMWAH : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane @muthafuckingstargirl @mina-281 @yuckyfucky @aimformyheartt @elstoy @skylerwhitwyo @sawaagyapong @nil-eena @dewylittlestars @sakiigami @feelsoseencantdream @ellieslittlegf

[crazyoffher]

TAKE YOUR PICK.

wednesday addams x fem!vampire!reader

summary: a werewolf attack leaves you in need of aid, though you find yourself aided in more than just your wounds.

warnings: smut (18+) — slight oral (r receiving), fingering, strap-on referred to as “cock” at one point, slight face-slapping, teasing, dirty talk, virgin!r, withheld orgasm. -> mentions of blood, wounds, werewolf attack, medical equipment, mentions of kidnapping, scarring, and dom!w + sub!r.

word amount: 6900+

a/n: yes you read that right, 6900+ words. i guess i beat you, didn’t i, my ⭐️ anon 😉.

“Our successor greets us with torture by this grouping.” Her words were dull, and as you turned to face her, you were met with her eyes boring into yours. You cocked your head to the side, easily bypassing a tree that would’ve hit anyone else. Your instincts were stressed by your venture into the woods with the murderous woman you labeled your enemy accompanying you.

Your skin itched. Badly. Though you would rather burn in the flames she created than take action for relief, you never dared to let the shorter girl win at her former pleas to have her partner switch, labeling it as having to not deal with your pollen allergy, but everyone knew of your rivalry.

It was no secret after all. You couldn’t count the number of times she tried to assist in your early death, ranging from simple pop-up attacks that your raging instincts guided you with to kidnapping you into the Nightshades library and torturing you—or more so, trying her best to—while reading latin incantations from a book that still scarred your mind to this day.

“You don’t have to tell me.” With your head shifted into it’s former state, staring straight ahead, you expected Wednesday to mirror your action. She hadn’t.

Your eyes darted all around the forest, searching for insects, animals, humans, or anything of the above that would pose a potential life-threat. Unlike Wednesday, you allowed yourself to feel fear because you actually cared for your life.  

You and Wednesday were similar, which was the root of your rivalry. She eyed you as a copycat, but you had always been who you were since the day you were born, and nobody could ever change you. You thrived in academics and sports, taking part in three education-related after school clubs as well as fencing, track, and a modernized human sport known as “soccer” to Americans during the summer.

You easily got more praise for your contribution to the school’s image, while Wednesday held the slimy silver medal praising her for being in second place, and her mind raged at the remembrance of it every time. She wanted to be number one above all else, but she could never bypass you. Hell, you even bypassed Bianca Barclay, forming a small rivalry with her when you first arrived at the academy.

“Would you like me to send you a photographed Polaroid of myself with my signature on it, or shall you continue to stare at me and soon trip over a rock?” Wednesday’s eyes furrowed at the end of the sentence, unable to hold back a yelp when she inevitably did fall over a grounded rock and faceplant on the floor.

You halted your movement, turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of Wednesday rolling herself on her back, a hand over her knee from a wound forming due to her ignorant choice to wear shorts. “We have thirty minutes remaining to collect all we need for our botanical project. I’d suggest you get off the floor.” 

Before she could even comprehend what you said, she found herself looking up into your eyes as you towered over her. Once more, you cocked your head to the side, allowing a sly grin to form on your face at the sight of blood dousing her hand from the open wound. “And you tell me I’m the clumsy one?”

“You are.” She shot back immediately, her eyes narrowing at your facial expression of humor. You found humor in her; you always have. It was a key part of your romantic attraction to her, though that aspect had always been locked away as a secret, and your humor lied in her inability to keep up with you.

Whether Wednesday wanted to admit it or not, she had found her challenger. Someone who was undeniably better than her, someone who forced her to work harder to be the one at the top, though she knew secretly she’d always be trapped in second place.

You were better than her, and it annoyed her more than anything in the world. That’s why the discovery of her own attraction toward you scared her—the girl who dared not feel emotion. She blamed it on your well-behaved confidence and that stupid grin you flashed her from day to day. 

A grin she wanted to kiss off, she thought once, and she contemplated throwing herself off the balcony in her dorm room when she allowed that sentence to linger in her mind.

You laughed genuinely, your grin growing wider at the sight of Wednesday stumbling to get up, her face crinkling only so slightly at the pain that coursed through the entirety of her leg.

“You’re unfit.” A huff came from her, head flicking up to meet your gaze, eyes lingering on your standstill grin—your pink-lipped mouth—for a second deemed too long before she lunged forward and pushed you aside.

The force of her thrust caused you to stumble back and fall on a pile of leaves, blowing and coughing out a crisp leaf that found it’s home inside your mouth. At the force of her thrust toward you, Wednesday found herself collapsed once more on the floor, her body not correctly stabilized from her injury.

“So, not only are you clumsy, but you’re also an idiot.” You sat yourself upright, hands laid down on the floor behind your body to stabilize yourself, all the while watching the conflict in Wednesday’s eyes over whether she should shoot back or keep quiet.

She kept quiet, eliciting a small, almost unnoticeable groan that Wednesday herself didn’t catch at first. You heard it, though, your grin finding it’s way back onto your face as you practically jumped up, brushing yourself off with a flick of your wrists to your neutral- colored clothing.

You furrowed your eyebrows to see Wednesday still sprawled on the floor, expecting her to have risen up by now, even if a limp tagged along. “The big, challenging girl who fought off the reincarnation of Joseph Crackstone years ago can’t get up because of a wound on her knee.”

You spoke in disbelief, and Wednesday turned her head over to you with might. “Don’t you ever mock my accomplishments.”

“Well, we can’t even accomplish the task of finishing our botanical sciences project if you don’t take your small ass up and off the floor.” You bit back.

Fumed with rage and annoyance due to her growing short temper, Wednesday lunged up at you with all the strength she had in her body. The next second, you found your hands wrapped around her waist as you held her upright from falling again, the girl collapsing into your embrace with a snake-like hiss emitting from her.

Another groan came from her, not even bothering to hide it this time, too preoccupied with the futile stinging of her wound and the warming position she found herself in with you. “Alright, back on the floor.”

Her back met the homing place that was the floor once more, shooting daggers at your inexistent attempt to lay her down carefully, seeing as you dropped her onto the floor without care. Her hand found it’s way back to her knee, coating the skin in blood once more, and you sighed. “Move your hand.”

“No.”

“Since when did you become so stubborn?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “Actually, that’s a dumb question, but I’m not going to ask you again. Addams,” your tone became firm, seriousness rising up amidst your former face of humor, “move your hand.”

Her teeth clenched, jawline protruding out, and her eyes were in their usual wide state, as if she were thinking, but her mind was blank. You found impatience creeping up on you, not daring to alert your eyes to her dark red, bloodied hand from her gushing wound.

With a twitch of your eye, your hand shot forward and clamped on Wednesday’s wrist, pulling it away from her wound with force, and she let out a small whimper that she immediately tried to cover with a cough. Your eyes darted up at her for only a second, having heard it, before looking back down at her wound, which was open and wide.

“I will take you to the Infirmary, and then come back and collect all we need for our project.” You said your plan out loud, your eyes darting back and forth between Wednesday’s open wound and the pathway from which you and the girl had just come. “I am fine. Besides, you would only get all the wrong things we need, seeing as how foolish you are.”

“Foolish is what you claim me to be, yet you’re the one consistently in second place.” Without warning, you sank an arm under her bent knees and another under her back, picking her up in bridal style, to which her eyes drastically widened. You felt her tense under you, muscles contracting, and you groaned. 

“Oh, relax. Being tense will only cause your wound to bleed more, and before I know it, I’ll be carrying your dead weight.”

“Put me down this instant.” Wednesday fought, trying to wiggle herself out of your grasp as you started to walk back to the school grounds, leaving your grip on her to tighten. “No. And don’t presume that I care about your wellbeing either, because I don’t.”

She huffed, her leg jerking up when a low branch made contact with her wound. “Then why not allow me to continue with you?”

“If you haven’t noticed, we’re past the forest barriers that Nevermore set.” When she turned her head in response to your signal to the right, she noticed the wooden line fences that were more intended to serve as a signal for students to turn around than as a means of keeping them out.

“Throats get slit in this neck of the woods,” you continued, mindlessly drifting your eyes all over the forest in caution of any inhumane species. “I’d rather not have a Jason Voorhees copycat lunatic trying to slaughter us, and I can’t go far because you’re disabled.”

“It’d be your own death’s fault for trying to save me.” Her deadpanning words made you want to drop her and let her find her own way back to the academy, but you just let out an annoyed breath while gripping onto her thighs tighter. “Forgive me for actually having a beating heart, Addams.”

“You’re not forgiven, (Y/L/N).”

Soon enough, you found yourself back in the forest, with Wednesday’s presence long gone. You were kneeling down, collecting dirt into a small jar that you had sprayed with pesticides to clear it of any lingering bugs. You hadn’t noticed how the time flew past, the sun fading into the moon, and you took a moment to enjoy the stars, hands settled on your dirt-covered knees.

A sound rang through the forested area, causing you to snap your head in the direction of the noise. It was muffled, but it sounded too closely like the howls of the werewolves you’ve grown to make friends with, and that was enough for you to shoot up instantly from your kneeling position. With a sharp breath, you looked up at the moon, now taking on the shape of a full moon, and you gagged in growing fear.

You’re fine, right? They get locked in the Lupen cages; there’s no way one of them could’ve escaped theirs. Your mind raced for explanations as you crouched down to pick up all that you'd collected, ranging from dirt to plants, before taking steady steps in the direction of the academy.

You took precautionary halts so as not to make major noise, cringing in fear at the sound of a leaf loudly crunching under your foot, and you could hear the howls once more, closer this time. 

You took another five steps before you could hear the thudding stomps of a figure inching closer to you with every second, and you thanked nothing else but your heightened senses as you dropped all of what you held and booked it. 

You dodged tree logs and branches left and right, hands fumbling with your satchel to tear it off your body to release the weight it was holding, and your body shook at the thudding sounds ringing in your ears, inching closer and closer-

Until you woke up, spread out on the floor, and your hands dug around the surface of the floor to help you realize that you were still in the woods. Your body still shook, this time more violently as you gasped in pain, stings shooting all over your body and causing your muscles to tighten.

“Fuck!” You groaned out, clenching your stomach where it hurt the most to feel a liquid coating your skin of the same texture that dripped your hands with Wednesday’s blood hours earlier. Your eyes drooped, sullenly coming to the firm realization that you were bleeding out with a liquid you could not even view properly, the night still too dark.

You blamed it all on a werewolf not properly being contained, but if that was the case, why didn’t they kill you instead of merely injuring you? The thought of the beast not being a werewolf flooded out of your mind quicker than it came in. You could see the outline of large claw slits scarring the skin of your stomach, and you yelled out the most mind-scarring shriek as you forced yourself up.

You moaned out, “Oh,” in pain as you sat yourself on a log, scanning the dark forest for any signs of life, human or not, to which there were none, and you sighed in relief. You took off your jacket first before peeling the shredded, blood-stained white shirt off your body, leaving you with just your bra and an exposed, large wound.

Your eyes closed in despair, feeling the pain dull ever so slightly in your relaxing state. You bent over, to your body’s anguish, to grab your bag with a small first aid kit tucked into it. All the items within the mini-kit were dunked out on the log space beside you, and you hurriedly grabbed multiple anti-septic wipes and shredded open the packaging before pressing them onto your skin.

Fangs bared, eyes darkening at the severe pain, you dug them into your bottom lip and swished the wipes over your wounds before letting out a loud yell of agony. You threw the wipes to the floor when they were all left coated with a dark red, grabbing the bandage roll, and with all of your muscles tightening at the pressure, wrapping your stomach with the bandage that immediately turned red before sealing it with tape.

The aftermath was almost pleasurable; the pain was still there but lessened due to the lack of blood flowing out of you. Managing to stumble up, you discarded your bag on the floor before taking a step forward, your body hunching over immediately from the inability to stand upright, and you carried on in the form of a hunchback.

What Wednesday least expected on an early Saturday morning, 3:30 a.m. to be exact, was the sound of her doorknob snapping off from the door itself. Her eyes perked up, sensing danger, and she immediately dug under her pillow to grab the knife she stored there, pointing it forward with the sharp tip ready to plunge itself into whoever dared to intrude into her and Enid’s dorm.

She had only been released from the hospital a few hours prior, so it seemed as though her knee pain had subsided, but when she put her foot on the ground, it suddenly returned. She ignored the discomfort and advanced toward the opening door, ready to strike.

“Wed-” You threw the door open, stopping immediately when the tip of her knife bore into your throat, one step away from slicing into your carotid artery. Even in the harsh darkness, Wednesday could see the fear and agony in your eyes, the way you were breathing heavily and clutching your stomach, and the skin that your bloodied jacket had now covered.

In the dim light of her bedside lamp, she could see your black jacket with a huge damp spot covering it, clamped over by bloodied hands. Her eyes met yours, and you gulped. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”

Wordlessly, she stepped to the side, inviting you in, which you limped into, and she closed the door. Her hand met your shoulder, an odd warmth coating your body despite her cold figure, and she aided you to the bathroom, choosing to disregard the blood trail you were leaving behind.

A sigh left your mouth as you collapsed on the closed-lidded toilet, leaning all your weight on the material. Wednesday pulled out a medical kit from under the sink, one much bigger than the one you had previously used, and slammed it on the countertop. “So much for not trying to wake up Enid.”

“Do you want me to help you or not? Beside, if you even took a second glance around the room, you’d notice Enid is not here, but in a Lupen cage in form.” She spoke in hushed whispers, and you shut up immediately, shrinking under her gaze. You were better than her, yes, but that didn’t mean you didn’t get scared of her from time to time.

“Take off your jacket.” She said simply, still prepping rounds of wipes with anti-septic liquids on them for your bloodied wound, as the wipes you used earlier did not have much of an effect considering the size of them. Wearily, you zipped down your jacket, peeling it off of you with a grunt or two before throwing it away at the base of the bathtub. You laid yourself back, eyes burning into the side of Wednesday’s face, anticipating her moves.

After she had finished prepping the wipes, she grabbed a sewing kit from under the counter, and you gulped at the largely-sized needles that she pulled out along with them. “All I really needed was for you to clean it, Addams. I’m a vampire; I can self-heal.”

“This is merely a precautionary measure to not leave putrid-looking scars.” She placed the items needed beside you, removing her own jacket, and you noticed how she was still in what she considered “casualwear”, seemingly not changing out of her clothes before drifting off to sleep. “Odd coming from the person who has left me with multiple scars, and why didn’t you change?”

“What?”

Wednesday turned, giving you a full visual of her in a button-up shirt and vest, black slacks tucked in and still belted; sleeping couldn’t have been comfortable for her with a belt digging into her hip. “You’re still in your clothes.” You pointed it out, and she looked down at her choice of fashion before letting out a small huff and advancing toward you, taking up position to the right of you.

“I awaited your presence. I told you before that I wanted to get a start on the project so I would not have to do much with class dealing with you and your miserable antics of getting items confused. Not only do you show up empty-handed in the dead of night, but you are also scarred through your inability to defend yourself.”

She badmouthed you, all the while untangling her sewing needles with harsh movements, but you only focused on one aspect of her words. “You fell asleep waiting for me?”

At once, Wednesday halted her movements, giving you a dead look before turning around and grabbing the large anti-septic wipes, swiftly pushing them into your wounded stomach. You let out a long, loud gasp, groaning at the pain and taking hold of Wednesday’s wrist, trying to push her arm back but to no avail. “Don’t get cocky.”

Your head flew back in agony, your hand still clasped around her wrist with a bruising grip. “I wasn’t! I was asking!”

Wednesday glided the wipes along your scars, to your dismay, until there were little to no signs of blood yet, all the while mindlessly running her eyes over the scars on your body that she created.

It was the only way she could get her mind off your exposed torso and how your muscles gallantly flexed from the pain, unwillingly showing themselves off to her.

Your eyes were squinting, still a bit sore from the antiseptics, but when you noticed that Wednesday had not made any other moves, you let them go from your iron grip. Your gaze landed on her stance, lost in thought. “What?”

"I'm in the process of comprehending an attempt to stitch you together while you remain seated, while I, on the other hand, am standing." Her eyes glanced all around the bathroom, sighing contently as she tried to determine a possible way to play surgeon in a comfortable manner.

“Well, I’m not lying on the floor. Your bed?” You inquired, and Wednesday shook her head, her mind discarded by that thought. “I would like to go to sleep tonight in a bloodless bed.”

“Um,” you gulped. The first real situation droning through your head was one anybody wouldn’t dare share with Wednesday. It's a good thing you weren’t like anybody else. “Sit on me.”

Her head snapped to meet your eyes, yours innocently boring into hers, and she squinted. “What?”

“Sit on my lap. When I lean back, you’ll be able to stitch me up or... whatever it is that you plan on doing without breaking your spine.”

You could see the conflict in her eyes, and she took it into consideration, to your surprise. With a pinch to the bridge of her nose and a long, elated sigh, as a means of balance, she placed her hands on each of your shoulders before swinging her left leg over your body and sitting down on your firmly closed legs. 

“Tell nobody about this, or more of these scars,” she said, pinching down on a drawn out scar that sat just right under your bra, “will litter your skin.” You gave her a hasty nod, eager to put your mind elsewhere while your sworn enemy found a seat on your lap.

Without a word of warning, she dug the needle into your skin, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud yelp of pain. Your hands flew to her shoulders as a matter of instinct, and you half-expected her to shrug them off, but she prioritized her sewing techniques instead.

The further she got into sewing the deep claw marks, the tighter your hands gripped her shoulders. You’d be surprised if Wednesday woke up bruise-free, as you could almost feel your knuckles turning white.

Wednesday found... amusement? The way your eyes closed at her stinging touch, the way your hands buried themselves into her shoulders, and how your thigh muscles tightened under her ass with every swift movement. She loved seeing you defenseless and submissive to her more than anything, finding profit in the means of mocking you later on if you tried to boast about your betterness.

When she had finally finished her stitching, she found herself still lingering on your lap, her movements awfully slow, even for her, to grab a couple large medical bandages and place them over her work. 

“Stay here.” Her voice was low while she slid off your lap, turning to leave the bathroom before returning a minute later with a baggy jacket in her hands. Your eyebrows furrowed as she laid the fabric on your lap, turning to wash her hands of any remaining blood.

You had a little trouble donning the jacket, which was made of Wednesday's fashion choice's baggy material but looked a little more fitted on you because of your lean frame. Your wounds, formerly the only thing clouding your mind, were long gone. You focused on the seriousness of your enemy’s actions, and the oddly warm jacket filled with her natural scent that was now clinging to your body.

“Why?”

“What?”

“When I came here, I fully expected you to push me away.” You leaned your body up on the toilet, hands running through your disheveled hair, and Wednesday directed her attention toward you. “But you didn’t, for some odd reason, and actually helped me—hell, you even sat on me—when you’ve been nothing but the cause of my terror ever since I’ve arrived at this academy.”

It was all nothing but the truth. Two years have passed since you made your flaunting arrival at Nevermore, head held high with nothing else on your mind other than the determination to be the best student the academy had ever seen, and so you accomplished it. Two years had passed since you crossed paths with the deadly Wednesday Addams, her mind still fresh from her praiseful battle with the former overtaker of Jericho.

Two years passed since you beat Wednesday’s boat in the Poe Cup; the Black Cats determined to win their second trophy in a row, and she swore you as her enemy that day when her eyes laid upon your smirking frame with the golden cup in your hand, sending her a wink of confidence that she mentally fumed at.

Two years had passed since Wednesday Addams made the dreadful discovery that, after all, her black, unbeating heart could feel love but that her taste was awful if she found herself attracted to her enemy. Now she found herself in the middle of her last year at Nevermore, freshly 19, and still rummaging in a cat-dog chase game with you.

Two years had passed since she found herself focused on nothing but her enemy, who was in front of her now, sitting on the toilet seat in her bathroom, all patched up, and looking at her with curiosity. “Are you going to continue to stare at me or answer my question?”

“I’m not required to reply to any of your inquiries.” Swiftly, she made her exit out of the bathroom, leaving you to stumble up on your feet and follow behind her like a lost pup. Your body felt awfully tired, though your mind was wide awake and racing with multiple thoughts at once, overloading and ready to explode any second.

“Add-”

“I’ve patched you up,” She moved to close the door to her closet, and in a rut of refusal to make eye contact with you, solemnly afraid that she’d instantly jump your bones- what? “So you may leave now.”

“I’m not leaving until you’ll answer my ‘inquiry’ on why you were nice, at least in my books, to me. You’re avoiding the question.”

You could see the clench in Wednesday’s jaw as she made her way over to her desk, tidying up the workplace in an attempt to distract herself from the conversation that lingered. “I’m unsure as to what you’re saying.”

“Addams-”

“Leave before I do something I’ll regret, (Y/L/N).” She snapped, finally meeting your gaze with wide eyes, and you furrowed your eyebrows. “Since when have you ever regretted something that included me? Did you not tie me to a tree on a full moon and bait me to the werewolves last year?”

Her eyes closed in annoyance. “That’s not what I mean.” And as she rubbed her face, you could almost feel the mixture of stress and uncertainty in her stance, almost as if she were holding back from something.

“Then what do you mean? I’ve known you for two years, and you’ve never failed to reply to me with a full sentence, whether it’s answering my question or barking out a snarky remark. Tell me what’s changed in tha-”

Your eyes were opening and closing rapidly in stress, causing you to not register Wednesday’s frame hurriedly marking toward you until you felt a body collapse into you and a smooth substance on your lips.

Huh?!

Your eyes shot open and wide. To confirm your suspicions, Wednesday’s arms were thrown over your shoulder while her body leaned into yours, and her lips smashed against yours almost desperately.

That’s what she presumed to regret. 

But it was something you longed for, unbeknownst to her, and you made it known when your hands found their way to her cheeks, pulling her in deeper. You could feel her lips tremble slightly in shock, unprepared for you to be pulling her closer instead of pushing her away.

Wednesday’s legs grew a mind of their own, taking steps forward and causing you to step back until the backs of your knees met her bed, and she tore her lips away from you for a breather. You took the separation as an opportunity to sit yourself down on her bed, all while your eyes never left hers in the process, and the smaller girl hurriedly found her former position on your lap.

“The moon is fading. Enid could come back any minute now.” You spoke between kisses, shivering at Wednesday’s cold touch on your warm skin, her hands slithering underneath the jacket you wore to rub up and down your back. “Then she’ll leave again, because she’s not going to enjoy what she’ll see.”

Your body visibly shivered at her words, or maybe it was just her fingers dancing along your spine, but either way, you found yourself completely engulfed in her and just her. The claw marks, the time, the physical confession—all of it was gone from your mind as Wednesday mindlessly pushed herself even farther into you.

She took a push too close, her body pressing up against your wound, causing you to groan and bite down on her bottom lip, fangs bared from the pain. Your lips never separated, instead pushing farther into them at the feeling and taste of Wednesday’s blood filling your mouths from her punctures, only spurring the two of you further.

“Lay down.” You obeyed immediately, finding nothing more hot in the moment than the husk in the smaller girl's voice, and manuevered from under her plushy thighs on top of you to lay comfortably on her bed. You were engulfed in her natural scent once more—the same scent you had grown accustomed to for over two years now, the scent that followed you everywhere you went.

You adored it, just as you adored her behind your hardening gaze most days.

Her eyes were narrowed, and you would have thought she was tired any other day, but you knew her look was one of need and want. Lust, to put it short, and you wanted nothing more than to fulfill her need, even if it meant submitting yourself to her in a situation you'd never thought you’d willingly put yourself in.

Just as she had earlier, she slid off your lap with a lingering touch on your hips. “Stay here.” 

And as quickly as she left, she returned, though this time with an item in her hand, and you knew exactly what it was. Your eyes widened, and your mouth drew open. Already?

“Yes, already.” Did you say that out loud? “You’d find me pathetic if you knew how long I have deferred using this. To use it on you.” Her eyes were filled with a dark, unmanageable lust that swam through her veins, and you could only imagine the scenarios that swarmed through your head. This wasn’t the Wednesday you knew, but it was one you anticipated figuring out.

“But I can’t just use this on you immediately, no.” A smug grin came across her lips—a sight that you, or really anybody else, rarely ever saw, and it was one you wanted to see more of. “No, I have to prep you, don’t I?”

“Prep me?” You asked, genuine curiosity lacing your voice, and her grin grew wider. “I’ll show you.”

Wednesday positioned herself back on your lap, putting the erotic object on her nightstand, within reach for later use, before pulling you into another kiss. It was bruising, and the kiss was ten times more harsh than before, but you would never complain about her being pressed up against you.

While you found yourself entrapped in her lips, her hands slithered down your body and toward your pants, grabbing the buckle of your belt and undoing it at a steady pace. That’s when it dawned on you—she was going to prep you for an object that withheld some... girth.

Your muscles tensed at the thought, and more so at the feeling of Wednesday pulling down your black jeans with ease, discarding your shoes in the process of leaving your bottom half in just your underwear. “Wednesday…”

She was simple. “Relax.” 

On the down low, she knew that this was your first time engaging with somebody sexually, never failing to notice your soft rejections of the girls and guys that tried to woo you on and failed miserably. It was an aspect she enjoyed even more now, and she wanted nothing more than to rub in the faces of all you rejected that they couldn’t get you to agree to a date, but yet she had you writhing underneath her, moaning her name.

Your breathing grew heavier as the seconds went by, hitching when Wednesday moved your underwear to the side with a slow itch of her hands, and you wanted nothing more than to grab her by the head and bury her in your heat. The lack of restraint you were feeling was lethal and ultimately surprising for a girl who rarely ever even masturbated.

“Such a possessing view.” She murmured in a low tone, her eyes dancing all around your core, and your cheeks flushed at her staring. Her eyes locked with yours, her mind racing at the sight of your eyes narrowed and staring down at her with silent pleads, and those pleads she fulfilled when her tongue darted out to take a swipe at your folds.

You whimpered in a tone around an octave higher than your usual voice, and your eyes widened at the sound that unwillingly left your mouth. It seemed to spur Wednesday on, allowing her to dart her tongue out once more and flick it over your clit, the nub that she wanted nothing more than to swell up with her mouth.

You let out another whimper—louder and needier this time around. “And sensitive. I can put that to use.” She dove her head farther into your heat, her lips wrapping around your clit and taking a harsh suck at the nub. Your thighs shut around her head, eyes never leaving one another, while she feverishly sucked your clit, needing to hear more of the high-pitched whines that left your mouth.

She pulled away soon after, to your dismay that you showed through your pleading whines, to allow a bead of spit to drip out of her mouth and onto your entrance, before taking her finger and rubbing her spit around the area. Your hips instinctively bucked up at the sensation, feeling yourself clench around nothing, and it made Wednesday want to elicit a laugh.

“The way I’m touching you now is a major privilege alone.” Her finger sank into your entrance, and she bit down lightly at the plushness of your thighs when she felt your velvety walls tighten around her. “I adore watching you like this underneath me; you make me want to fuck you braindead.”

She sank her finger into you until her knuckle bared against your heat, curling the bony stature inside of you and eliciting a light moan out of you. You already found yourself on edge from her husky words alone, and the curl of her finger inside of you didn’t help you from almost cumming embarrassingly fast.

“Already close? What a shame; I wanted to have fun toying with you.” Her mouth against her core made you moan from the vibrations, hands flying to grip her head menacingly and push her farther into you, almost crying out for the whole hall to hear when she slipped a second finger into you.

Her fingers picked up pace, thrusting in and out of you with force while the squelching sounds of your slick covering your walls made Wednesday feel a pit of need start to boil in her stomach, one that she desired to fulfill.

The two-on-two action on your core made you clench impossibly tight on Wednesday’s fingers, the ravenhead finding difficulty in her repeated movements. “Want to cum, yeah?”

You nodded profusely, your face growing red from your need for release and the way she released her lips from your clit with a pop. A small grin formed on her face when she pulled out of you, relishing in your whines of despair.

Eyes closed, heavy breathing—you were too blissed out, despite not achieving an orgasm from her underlying teasing, to notice Wednesday sliding off you, strapping the former item in her hand to her core. Her eyes never left your face as she strapped the item on, feeling more than fired up to make you scratch down her back with pitiful whines leaving your mouth.

And so, that’s what she achieved, eyes closing from the burning pains of your nails digging deep into her shoulders down to the middle of her back. Her own mind felt foggy watching the way her silicone became drenched in your arousal, the strap pumping in and out of you with ease, and the way you moaned straight into her ear—god, she regretted never taking your submissive state for profit more early.

Your thighs clenched around her hips when she bottomed into you, settled on her knees, and bent over slightly to curl the strap inside of you, hitting an unfamiliar spongy spot that had you sinfully whining with a hand clenched on Wednesday’s head. “If the entirety of humanity could merely glimpse you in your current state, they would swiftly recognize your rare moment of submissiveness,” her lips dove down, meeting your ear, “all submissive just for me.”

Her movements grew hard, her hands gripping your skin with a bruising force while her hips drove into you with no relent, finding a need for her own release. The so-called “devil” found herself groaning heavy breaths into your ear, all the while slipping a soft moan or two in that she couldn’t hold. The feeling of you finally beneath her, pleading and scratching at her for release, felt ethereal; all of her senses were on cloud nine, and it ignited a burrowed-down spark.

One of Wednesday’s hands removed from your skin, leaving behind darkened marks that would worsen with time to connect with your cheek, the slap making you roll your eyes back at how dirty it felt. “No connected nerves, and I can still feel you pulsating on me; you’re driving me crazy with it.” 

Your moans were muffled at the feeling of the ravenhead’s fingers shoving deep into your mouth, bypassing your uvula, causing a gag to ensue. Your lips wrapped around the digits, absentmindedly biting on them when the pit in your stomach started to burn like wildfire, making you tighten around the raven’s strap and force her to slow her movements, though still managing a speedy pace. 

“Don’t cum.”

The words you wished never left her mouth made you whine around her fingers; your body was too sensitive from your lack of sexual activity and masturbation over the years, making it almost impossible to fight your orgasm off. Her fingers briefly exited your mouth, only to slap your cheek once more before returning to their original location. “Just for a bit.”

The hold-off was tortuous; the muscles in your body tightened incredulously while your mouth pathetically sucked on Wednesday’s fingers in a pathetic attempt to tear your mind away from your orgasm. It didn’t work. 

The overloading, burning sensation in your stomach was almost uncomfortable; the fire burned longer than it intended to while you made putrid eye contact with the roof, Wednesday’s head snug to the side of yours while she drew herself closer to her own orgasm. The words that made  you sigh in relief, your body shaking after seconds of torture, finally came past the girl’s lips, and you adored them.

“Cum for me, la mia dolce metà.”

You obeyed immediately, allowing your muscles to untighten, and Wednesday’s fingers left your mouth, allowing you to spew out a large moan that, without a doubt, woke the entire hall up. Your hands dug into her shoulders, feeling her shudder over you from her own orgasm, though the only thing that left her mouth was heavy pants.

Alas, she pulled out of you after seconds of relishing in one another’s embrace, making you feel empty compared to just minutes ago. The tip of Wednesday’s cock directed to your swollen clit from her previous oral actions, pushing down with enough pressure to make your toes curl and a breathy sigh leave your mouth.

Wednesday had pulled herself up by now, and it was only then that you noticed the girl taking a mental screenshot of your body, more specifically your core and the way your cum leaked out of you at a snail's pace. She licked her lips at the sight, her eyes flickering up to meet yours, and you gulped.

“La mia dolce metà,” she whispered, hands running down your body and to your hips, “I’m not done with you just yet.” The edges of her lips tugged ever so slightly when she dipped her head down to meet your core, leaving you to moan with delight as your hand found it’s way back to her hair.

[tinkerbelle05]

How about a 1016 miles x fem reader where his mom catches them kissing in his room 😭😭 I feel Rio would not play

Caught Red Handed

Characters: 1610!Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff & slight Angst

Summary: (Requested) Thanks beautiful ♥️

Warnings: awkwardness, snooping parents, Rio’s rage

A/N: Omg Rio would never play like that. I think it took a lot of convincing for you and Miles to be in the same room. Welp that's gone now. Also for my own peace of mind, Miles and Reader is 16+

You loved kissing Miles. You loved leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw, traveling down to his neck, and traveling further down into the depths of his collarbone.

You were doing it right now. Both of you laying on his bed with you draped over his body and his hands on your thighs for stability. You heard a chuckle under his breath and you paused to look at him.

“That made you tickle,” it was more of a statement, an observation really, than a question. He didn’t answer, just avoided your eyes. You took your finger and lightly trailed leaving goosebumps in it’a wakes, leaving him a laughing mess.

“You're such a tease,” he grumbles and kisses your lips.

The both of you were so entrapped in your own world that you didn’t hear Miles’ door opening, and you most definitely didn’t notice Rio standing at the doorway with lunch in her hands.

“What are you two doing?!” You hear a yell. It sounded too much like Ms. Morales for your liking.

Both of you froze with fear and slowly turned around to see a fuming Ms. Morales. She was gripping the tray for dear life and fierce glare on her face.

You practically jump off Miles, white hot embarrassment fills every part of your body. You avoid her line of sight as you brace yourself for the inevitable verbal lashing. You don’t even dare to look at Miles, not even a secret glance in his general direction.

“So this is why y’all wanna keep the door closed all the time huh?” She questions and laughs in a mocking tone.

“Mom-“

“Don’t,” she cuts him off harshly. She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. She opens them and they land in the space between you and Miles. “Have you two..?”

“No, we haven't,” Miles answers quickly, and somehow your embarrassment grew deeper.

She gives out a sigh and pinches her nose, “Okay, okay that's good because I will not become a grandmother right now, do you both understand?”

Both of you nod in unison. There was something more terrifying about her calm rage. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in anxiety.

She clears her throat, “Since neither of you clearly paid enough attention during sex-ed in school, I will re-teach you.”

“Huh? Mami please no. You really don’t have to,” Miles protested while you sink further into despair.

She ignores Miles and grabs a chair to sit in, “Okay so when..”

This was going to be a long night but it could definitely have been worse.

“Oh and you both are severely grounded for at least a month,” she adds before she continues on.

It was one of the worst 30 minutes of your life. Ms. Morales went really in depth on every subject related to sex education. The diseases you could catch, different methods of practicing safe sex, and the consequences of failing to do so. She painted horrifyingly graphic demonstrations too.

By the end of it, all you wanted to do was go home and erase this idea from your memory forever.

And at the end, she said, “Now maybe a month from now, after some reflection I can trust you two to be in the same room with the door open. But not right now. Do you need a ride home?” She turned to you, her gaze and voice softer than it was a moment ago

You quickly shake your head no and grab your things. As much as a car ride home would beat the 2 trains and a bus commute you had, your already cringing at the thought of how awkward and tense the car ride would be.

“No, no it’s fine Ms. Morales, I can get home on my own,” you tell her and with a quick goodbye to both of them, you were out the door.

Halfway through your train ride home and the Renaissance album you get a text from Miles. You were surprised he still has his phone.

“I’m sooo sorry for that. Shoulda locked the door next time. I'll make it up to you, promise 🙏🏿”

“I'll hold it to you Morales”

Tags: @butterfi, @justbeethings, @jam-skullz, @zomb1te, @dreamxcollide, @shibble, @sciamachy-after-dusk @sleepdeprivationis4coolkids, @somber-starz, @maypersonne, @peter-parkers-gf, @hoeboat101, @rosebunny, @liural, @midnight-the-shadow-wolf, @mur-docs, @eight-cats-in-a-box@emgavi, @sawi-06, @707xn, @niktwazny303, @nagi3seastorm, @ghostsimp000, @cloudstrifefantatic, @vixqn, @mewxzx, @yourtsahik, @targaryenstormborn, @spider-bren, @star-light18464, @im-jisoo-im-okay, @wraithlueintheirlittleworld, @andhdi68a, @itstooearly-its3am, @universallypeanutpizzapersona, @gricelovesu, @pavitrsgf, @avatarl0v3r, @ca1ist0, @randomhoex, @nerdyparker616, @1uvvmi, @keawio, @centipider, @ellatienesuscosas, @m4rihrts, @jell0buss-37, @baddiebehaviourxx, @laylasbunbunny, @minimari415

Taglist & Anonlist & Reqs Info & Masterlist

[cambion-companion]

Here’s ya girl who has gone completely feral over astarion. He’s the babiest baby. Okay, here’s the prompt. My characterisation could be a bit (or a lot lol) off bc I haven’t played the game Y E T so feel free to change the things that seem OOC.

Established relationship, but the beginnings of it, on a mission to find a way for astarion to be in the sun again. Reader has given astarion time to work on his sexual trauma so they haven’t been having sex for some time. Reader is 100% ok w that. But they have a big argument over something (not related to sex) and astarion doesn’t know how to resolve the situation other than reverting back to his seductive artifice and using sex as a way to ensure his safety (in this case, emotional safety). Reader figures it out because they (or she) are not dumb. They reassure astarion and he lets himself be vulnerable but also, it turns out that astarion wants that sexual intimacy. But reader decides this will be all about astarion and making him feel good and loved. Body worship, astarion’s praise kink, just everything focused on astarion’s pleasure in a way he has never experienced and that makes him completely unravel once he comes. Not a subby reader, tho. You know me, I don’t do subby.

If this is too long of a prompt, just the sexy part will be ok. Thank you so much, i have such astarion brainrot DDDD:

I Want to Live

word count: 1700

gn!reader x Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic | 18+ only

"I don't think we should use the tadpoles for anything, Astarion." You put your hands on your hips, glaring at the sulky Elf in front of you.

This tense conversation between the two of you had gone on far longer than you'd have liked. Astarion seemed insistent on using whatever advantage the Illithids had unintentionally given your party. Despite not yet knowing the implications of doing so.

Astarion's silver hair glinted in the firelight that warmed your back, his eyes shone like droplets of blood. "You might as well leave me alone, spoilsport." He waved an imperious hand in your direction, sneering at you in the way he knew would hurt you most. "Since you insist on being boring and unimaginative."

You ground your teeth. "I'm trying to keep us safe."

"And a fine job you're doing, my sweet." His lilting voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why don't you ask Arabella how her parents are doing?" He paused, then feigned surprise. "Oh wait..."

Your eyes widened as a jolt of genuine pain lanced through your heart at his callous words. Astarion was aiming to do damage and, like always, he knew how to push your buttons.

Magic sparked at the end of your fingertips as you fought to control your rage. It was the lack of verbal response that alerted Astarion to the fact he might have pushed a little too far with you. His face almost looked regretful for a moment, or perhaps it was a trick of the firelight casting shadows across his features. You didn't gain much insight because of the tears blurring your vision as you quickly turned away and strode as far away from the vampire spawn as you could.

Shadowheart, who always seemed to overhear everything, cast a worried glance your direction before leveling a glare on Astarion who still watched after you with a blank look.

You sat yourself upon your bedroll before the campfire and listened to Volo squeakily tune his lute. Wyll and Gale were over by their tents chatting and Lae'zel sat on a boulder by the river sharpening her sword.

You had thought Astarion would understand and perhaps even agree with you, and the rest of the camp for that matter, that the parasites should not be utilized to gain control of other beings. It was convenient and downright useful, yes...but not worth an unknown cost.

You had thought...since that night when the two of you had become intimate...that he'd maybe come to care for you. But that jab about Arabella's parents, who you'd failed to save, only confirmed that the vampire did not have your best interests at heart.

Sighing, you moved your bedroll away from its usual place beside Astarion's and arranged it next to where Karlach slept. You could feel multiple pairs of eyes watching you move about but you didn't much care at the moment.

Karlach gave you a curious and concerned look as she came over and got comfortable for the night. "Are you alright? I could hear you and Astarion going at it...and not in the fun way."

You grunted and moved your body to the side so you could scrape out a rock that had been digging into your back. "It's fine. He's just an ass." You said these words loud enough for him to hear.

Karlach shrugged and nodded as if this were common knowledge. She gave you a jolting pat on the back before getting comfortable in her own bedroll.

As the breathing patterns of your companions slowly deepened in slumber, you could not find any rest. You tossed and turned as best you could in such primitive sleeping arrangements. You missed your bed back in Baldur's Gate above the taproom of the Shadowcat Claw, the familiar bustle of voices and a mug of ale in your belly lulling you to sleep. Out in this wilderness, with the thought of your argument with Astarion tugging at your thoughts...you had to get up.

As quietly as you could, you slid out of your bedroll and got to your feet. A quick observation of your companions told you they were all in a deep sleep. All except Lae'zel who sat on the boulder still, keeping silent watch. She nodded at you curtly as you passed and didn't ask any questions, for which you were grateful.

You crept through the foliage down to the place in the forest by the river where you and Astarion had had your midnight tryst. You could still feel his moonlight hair running through your fingers, his fangs on your neck as you arched it just for him. The trust...you thought you had at least earned a little bit of his trust.

"I thought I'd find you here." His voice was velvet, it shivered straight through your defenses to your heart.

"I wanted to be alone, Astarion." You tried to keep your own voice cool and collected, but you ached to hold him in your arms again.

Astarion had followed you from the campsite into the woods. He'd been fully aware of your restlessness, of course he had. He entered your line of sight now, looking very much like a cat stalking its prey. His ruby eyes were dark and trained on your face. "Come now, you're far too obvious for all this bluster. Do you not want to feel me again?" He gave you a crooked smile, showing his teeth. "A second taste, perhaps?"

You felt the hollowness of his words and saw the carefully arranged expression he wore like a mask. Beneath the facade you could make out the telltale twitch of a facial muscle, the tenseness of his eyes, indicating anxiety.

You sighed. "I thought we were passed these games."

"Games?" Astarion's tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Games are all part of the fun, my dear. So good at getting the blood pumping."

You folded your arms. "I want an apology."

This tripped him up. For a moment the facade slipped, and he seemed genuinely taken aback. "Apologize?" Then he was back to his usual bluster. "Me? Apologize for what?"

"For having a go at me today. Bringing up Arabella's parents when you know how upset I am about it." Astarion made a noise as if to speak but you cut across him. "That was cruel, Astarion, and I deserve better from you."

"I didn't..." Astarion sighs heavily, his eyes glancing down to the ground then back at your face. "I apologize." The words seemed to pain him in some way. "I wanted to get a rise out of you, that's all. Now let's forget about that and have some fun."

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, saying nothing, simply watching his face lit in the silver moonlight. His unconvincing grin slowly slipped off his face, a troubled frown replacing it. The two of you looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, you spoke.

"You're testing how much I care for you, aren't you?" Your voice was soft, almost inaudible over the rippling stream.

Astarion seemed momentarily taken aback, he seemed to consider taking shelter once more behind his mask of pompous indifference. But then his shoulder's slumped slightly, the fists at his sides loosened. That was all the answer you needed.

You stepped forward and placed your hands around his, tugging him closer. He did not resist, his footfalls light as ever as he drew near. Close enough to feel his breath warm your lips.

"I care about you, Astarion." Your voice was still soft amidst the rustling leaves and sparkling water. "I discourage you from using the tadpole's powers because I couldn't bear to see your will overtaken by yet another monster."

Astarion was silent for a long time, his scarlet eyes turned silver as a moonbeam fell across his pallid face. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. "What if it's too late for me? To be anything other than a monster? My only choice is which one." He laughs forcefully, bitterness twisting his mouth.

"I won't let that happen." You encircled him tenderly in a hug, pulling him to rest flush against your body. "We're in this...together."

"Together." The word was echoed back to you, his voice framing the syllables as if it were a foreign tongue.

You turned your face into him and kissed his neck softly, feeling his body tense in your arms and then slowly relax. You kept your lips against his skin, over where Cazador had sunk his fangs all those centuries ago.

Astarion's hands slowly slid up your hips to rest against your lower back as he held you close. Your lips caressed his neck, throat and trailed up to his jaw until you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you." You murmured.

You felt him tense again, not pushing you away, but his hands tightened on your back. "I..." Astarion hesitated. "I'm not quite ready to say those words back to you, my dear."

"I know." You felt no anger, no hurt. You accepted him however he wished to come to you, grateful for this rare moment of vulnerability beneath the stars.

You pushed him back gently until his back made contact with the base of a large sycamore tree. A huff of air left his lungs, quickly claimed by your mouth as you kissed him hungrily this time. Your hands made quick work of his clothing and Astarion became eager to help the process along.

"Vixen." He murmured and you laughed against his lips, your tongues teasing each other.

"You're beautiful, Astarion." You held his face in your hands and kissed his mouth lightly, not allowing him to turn away even as the compliment made his eyes search yours for hints of disingenuity. "I want nothing from you in return." You said firmly, reading his emotional turmoil through your shared Illithid connection. "This is just for you." You kissed his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. "To keep."

Astarion's head fell back to rest against the tree trunk as you continued lavishing affection upon him. He moaned your name softly to the night sky as you slowly sunk to your knees before him, the dirt and rocks digging unheeded against your knees. His fingers twisted in your hair and guided you to where he wanted you most.

"Good, my love." You praised him, your words causing his body to shake with increasing pleasure. "Show me."

The night was long and full of bliss. A genuine exchange of pleasure, without the previous facades and plays at affection. You felt the change as surely as he did, and when the others awoke in the morning it was to find your bedroll pulled back right next to where Astarion lay curled against you.

~

"You owe me five gold, Shadowheart." Gale mumbled.

[knightofmarte]

So will we talk about Fig and Ankarna? Like how Fig's domain is rebellion and Ankarna's is justice. How we rebel because we see something unfair or unjust and how connected they are. For me it's very possible that Fig is going to be the one to bring Ankarna back the way Kristen brought the Nightmare King back. Fig who has always been welcome in barbarian classes because she understands rage, but still is so kind and understanding. Fig who just brought back one of the symbols of this Goddess, Fig who has claimed her fallen domain or her domain in hell. Fig who gifts her friends and who isn't sure of who she is, Fig who always protects and always fights against things that are wrong. All of this is to say I think Fig is Ankarna's One, even if it's not Ankarna who chooses Fig but Fig who relates and brings back Ankarna. Fig is the Archdevil of redemption, she might as well be Ankarna's Paladin and Chosen.

[astrologydayz]

ASTRO EVERYTHING NOTES💘

Planets/asteroids/points aspecting Vertex = 3°ORB MAX, unless it’s a minor aspect, then it’s 2🩷!

VERTEX is fate. In SYNASTRY = whatever that's conjunct your Vertex, will be brought2yo ass by that person! Either by being with them, or just by knowing them. No matter what. If it's something "good", amazing!! If it's something like Chiron?? U Betta run, and u betta run fast🗣. Watch out for Medea - 212 in synastry!!! This asteroid is about EXTREME REVENGE!!!🩸

If you're a woman, and another woman is jealous of u/hates on u in public or in "secret"= check out if their BML is conjunct something in your chart!!! It's something I've seen4years. BML aspects are prominent in a synastry chart with a woman who's jealous of u/hates on u/"fake friend". Which is not surprising, actually. BML Is also where u feel the most "left out"/"exiled"2. So it makes sense, that you'll feel jealous of a woman who has all of those things u never had/Will have. just her living nice, & comfortable with whatever it is you're struggling with/struggling2get. Let's say someones BML is conjunct your Venus = they'll be jealous of your lovers, relationships/material things u own/your money/your art - if your job is Venus related - singing/modelling/dancing/working with beautiful things - Venus work)/because of the love u give out/or because YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!! Always look at house/s/sign/s & both natal charts!! That will reveal everything!😘

WOMEN with Mars conjunct/square/quincunx BML usually get a lot of hate from men, because they won't put up with shit! Men are intimidated, but sexually attracted 2 them because of the "I don't give a fuck, I'll say&do what I want attitude"💋. They can also have a lot of pent up rage, when it comes 2 men and their experiences with them. Men can have "used, &abused" them. Many men won't have the guts 2 go for her, hell, they can’t even look her in the eyes 4too long. And she's completely fine with that. She c those men as weak, anyway.

MEN with Venus conjunct/trine/quintile Jupiter. Can get a lot of sexual attraction from women!!! They’re talented when it comes 2 gaining female attraction - and they know it. They naturally excude this magical appeal, that women can’t stand for.

MEN with Moon conjunct Chiron have a very deep scar, when it comes 2 their mom. Their mom was highly likely not really “there" 4 them as a child, especially emotionally. Their mom usually also had to take care of someone else/or something else. They didn't get the mothering love&care they needed from her, so now they go around with, let's call it a 'grudge" towards women. They want to hurt women/their partners, like they've been hurt. & the next problem is that it's all in the back of their subconscious, they're not even "really aware of it". So Until they acknowledge their pain&hurt = They'll keep on projecting their mommy issues onto their partner&keep on hurting themselves❤️‍🩹.

Venus conjunct/trine South Node in SYNASTRY = lovers/married in a past life! They have karmic lessons that needs taken care of, look at house/s, sign/s & both natal charts! Borderline physical attraction between them, &deep deep love&appreciation4each other. SN is typically the one 2 recognise Venus 1st! Venus is usually also South Nodes ideal type. South Node 2 Venus - “I’ve been looking for you for way too long", “we belong together, you and I”, "we're soulmates, I just know it”. Mars conjunct/trine South Node in SYNASTRY = sexual partners from a past life! That's why they're so comfortable with doing sexual things together in this life, when they finally get into it👅. SN knows EXACTLY how the Mars person's body should be devoured/touched. SN is instantly attracted 2 Mars! Karmic lessons here2!!! Look at house/s, sign/s & both natal charts 2 see what kinds of lessons. South Node loveeees the Mars persons body2!! Kinda ideal. And again, South Node is typically the one that recognises their partner 1st - "your touch feels familiar"🫦.

Venus conjunct/trine/quintile Black Moon Lilith In SYNASTRY = crazy sexual attraction because of their intense differences. They can be from two different countries/or one could also "have it all", and the other one? Not so much. It can also show a secret, passionate love affair, between two married people🔞. Or one is married, & the other one isn't. Venus can get obsessed with Lilith pretty quickly - Wanting 2know everything, nothing left out. Venus NEEDS 2 be with Lilith, A LOT. Which is a little dangerous, as Lilith is free & doesn't like it when people try2 control her.

Jupiter conjunct/trine/sextile/quintile Vertex in a NATAL CHART can show fated fame/success! Either material, or spiritual success✨🍀💚.

Neptune trine/sextile/quintile Vertex in a NATAL CHART = a bohemian kind of lifestyle, never really "settling down in one place". & they'll have fated meetings with artistic/creative, or spiritual souls throughout their journey, who will help them achieve their dreams!!!💙

WOMEN with Black Moon Lilith conjunct their Vertex will be put in a lot of "Lilith situations". Like them being in situations where they feel abandoned/alone/ - them being the other woman - getting hated on because of it/being sexualised a lot by men/men testing their boundaries/fighting for their rights - won't bow down2anyone/people trying to undermine them. Most of the time, these women won't put up with anyone trying2 tell them anything. They're independent, &have no problem with being alone💋.

Your ASC in synastry is what u immediately think about someone!!! If your Lust asteroid - 4386 is conjunct someone's ASC = they would have hard time controlling themselves around u/wants 2 rip your clothes off, A LOT. NOT the other way around. IT'S THEIR 1ST HOUSE, NOT YOURS BABE😘. It's something that's always "in your face", 4the ASC person. Venus conjunct ASC IN SYNASTRY = ASC person will find the Venus person beautiful af/VERY physical attractive, as I wrote! "beautiful painting", "are you even real?", "you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen", things like that! Mars conjunct ASC IN SYNASTRY = ASC person is REEEEEAAALLLYYYY sexually attracted 2 Mars persons body/physical looks😽. Sexual chemistry, can be crazy here🫦.

Eros - 433 conjunct ASC in SYNASTRY = Asc person is sexually attracted2 Eros person from first meeting👅 - "Can't keep their hands 2themselves"🔞.

THANKS4READING BEAUTIFUL!!! I APPRECIATE U& Wouldn't do this without you🖤.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Rafe x reader "you feel that, that's what you do to me."

Yes yes, more Rafe!! Get ready for so much more OBX when the new season is out on Thursday!!

Warning: implied smut, erectile disfunctions

my taglists are here+you can requests hereat any time

—

Never in his life did Rafe think his manhood would betray him. He trimmed it well and emptied it regularly, complimented it and kept it fresh. So why did it betray him like that? Why did it embarrass him like that?

He was in one of the backrooms of the country club with a hot blonde, her white tennis skirt flipped up and underwear pulled to the side, ready to get railed after her golf session with her daddy…but Rafe’s got a problem. Little Rafe’s got a problem.

Rafe tried to pump it to get it hard, but it was not working.

He cursed and tucked himself back into his shorts before leaving. Finding the course of the problem had not been difficult. Rafe’s dick never faulted him before he met you, before he fucked you in his dad’s office a few days ago.

The tires of his truck screeched in the parking lot, rage in his blood as he drove home. If he was in luck, you would still be there filing paperwork for Ward. His old man was at a business meeting outside the island and put you, his assistant, in charge of his phone calls and other business related things all day.

‘’We need to talk,’’ Rafe declared, walking in his dad’s office as if it was his own.

You looked up from the paper you were reading, more serene than the boy before you. ‘’Do we? I’m waiting for a call from a buyer. It could be a pretty big deal and your father counts on me to—’’

Without warning and only a few steps, Rafe crossed the distance to the office desk and grabbed your hand, pressing it right over his semi-soft bulge. ‘’You feel that, that’s what you do to me.’’

‘’Rafe, I’m working.’’ You tried to move, but he would not let go of you. Thank god Ward was not home. ‘’I don’t have time for a quick fuck in your father’s office.’’

His intense blue eyes were narrowed, a mix of frustration and anger all over his face. ‘’You’ve ruined my life.’’ He lowered his voice next. ‘’You broke my dick.’’

You drew your eyebrows together, feeling him harden under your touch. ‘’It seems to be working just fine.’’

‘’Because it’s you.’’

A laugh spilled from your lips, unable to hold your seriousness. ‘’Excuse me?’’

Rafe let go of your hand and rubbed his over his face. ‘’Since we fuck last week, I can’t get hard for other girls.’’

‘’Damn. Am I that good of a fuck?’’

‘’I’m being fucking serious! It’s like you put a curse on my dick.’’

You laughed again. He was being ridiculous. ‘’Every time you open your mouth, the situation gets funnier.’’

‘’And every time you open yours—’’

‘’You get hard?’’ you interrupted with a smirk. ‘’I can see that, but unfortunately, ‘little Rafe’ will have to wait until the buyer calls.’’ You traced the outline of Rafe's cock over his shorts, making him hold his breath. ‘’Then, I'll let you bend me over your dad's desk.‘’

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx  @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @snownjune

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

May I ask why you dislike Malleus so much?

[My TWST character tier list is here.]

[For context on why I dislike Malleus: here and here!]

Many of the reasons previously cited above are still applicable presently (though some points may be outdated since those posts were written before book 7). In this post, I will mostly be focusing on why my thoughts on Malleus have not changed despite the new added content of book 7.

I ramble on for a bit, so I put my thoughts below the cut! Ah—but before you read, please be aware that these are my opinions and not meant to be disparaging to any Malleus likers out there.

Me disliking him should not take away any of your joy!! Go out there and love him for me ^^

A lot of the things happening in book 7 were a long time coming, so really I felt as though Malleus finally “losing it” was affirming of all the red flags from before. Since day 1, his loneliness, aloofness, and awkwardness around his peers were key traits of his. What book 7 does is it magnifies the darkest aspects of his character.

We’ve seen several examples when Malleus has fits of rage and his power flares out of control or he at least threatens it. In Glorious Masquerade, he becomes enraged at the realization that the invitation he received was a false one. In A Firelit Sky, he insinuates that he would be upset if people questioned his presence for the trip. He crushes Lilia’s phone in his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, destroying a friend’s belonging because he was upset about not being invited to an occasion. In book 7, we see a flashback of Malleus freezing the whole castle as a child because his grandmother, overtaken by her duties, could no longer dine with him as promised. Malleus’s temper has been a persistent issue since childhood.

We’ve also seen him act callously toward his classmates and misuse magic to force his will upon them. Remember him stopping time during Endless Halloween Night? How he wanted some ghosts to enjoy themselves instead of missing out on being with everyone for the holiday? Now he’s stopping time in book 7 and keeping everyone in their happy dreams forever. Remember how (in his Dorm Uniform vignettes) Malleus thought it would be easier to make the other dorm leaders come to him instead of him coming to them for their meeting? So then he disregards their autonomy and casts magic that’s normally cast on objects on living beings (something which the other dorm leaders take offense to, as it is dehumanizing). He fails to consider their perspective when he returns to Diasomnia (he basically goes, “well, I wouldn’t have been mad if they cast that spell on me!”). Malleus learns nothing from the experience despite Lilia trying to tell him over and over to be more considerate of others and how different they are from him. Now we have Malleus relating his peers to a virtual pet that he never ever wants to leave him.

Malleus can be stubborn and arrogant. He has a very single-minded way of thinking and often does not consider others’ feelings before he makes the decision for them. Malleus can be insecure. He doesn’t even fully realize he is lonely until Yuu suggests it in book 7, but he’s capable of acting on his bouts of intense emotion. He has always had these flaws, and now they are being brought out in full; we’re being forced to confront OB Malleus and all the complicated, twisting feelings of abandonment that come with him.

Let’s make one thing very clear: I don’t take issue with the overblot boys in general; they are meant to be morally grey characters that act in dubious ways. It would be insincere for me to claim “I dislike Malleus because he did bad things!” News flash, many TWST characters have done bad things or at least questionable things that would give you pause. What separates Malleus from the others and makes him egregious enough to earn significant ire from me is the particular actions he takes (which triggers a personal disdain of mine).

Malleus consistently exerts a scary amount of control over others. This is not a new idea; Riddle and Vil are also notorious for being oppressive or controlling, and I’ll be the first to admit that. (You’ll note that those two are low on my tier list too.) The thing is, Riddle and Vil were very overt and open about their demands for obedience. Malleus can be too, but it’s so insidious how he acts within the dreams. He ignores people’s autonomy, gaslights others, and, again, acts like he knows what’s best for them 💀 Other characters have done these things too, but never to the same scale or by exerting this much power. Malleus then resorts to violence when his lies don’t work, even though he’s fully aware of the power disparity between him and his peers. It feels particularly scummy to me because of how Malleus frames his selfish actions and feelings (his wish for Lilia to not leave) as selfless (for the benefit of his peers) and something everyone else would want in order to justify it to himself 💦 I know he is in (or bordering on) overblot so he wasn’t thinking rationally at that point, plus the fact that many examples I listed come from events or vignettes which may not be canon to the main story timeline. Still, there is a concerning pattern of behavior with Malleus misusing his powers or not being considerate of others and failing to grow from those mistakes. You can only go “oopsie” so many times before you harm someone by accident. I expect people to learn their lesson by then and adopt some proper restraint. He keeps claiming his intentions are good as if that’s supposed to dismiss any harm that results from his actions??? No, his actions still harmed people and he has to deal with the consequences of them, not have them hand-waved away or excused. The behavior I’m witnessing is reminiscent of like… having a toxic friend that is constantly told “hey, what you’re doing/saying makes me feel uncomfortable; do you think you could dial it back?” and the friend tells you they’ll try but then never actually changes their behavior or defends their behavior with “I didn’t mean to, so therefore I did not actually harm anyone”.

You can give me a backstory, but a backstory only goes so far as explaining why he is the way he is; it does not excuse him at all. You can say “He’s a fairy! He’s sheltered!” until the cows come home, but when he relies on magic to quickly fix the problems he caused instead of stopping to genuinely reflect on why people are mad at him, it’s hard for me to sympathize. Because of his immense power and status, the only person that can reasonably hold Malleus accountable is himself, and he has not demonstrated to me that he can do that.

Book 7 is essentially the payoff for allllll the tropes and traits I never liked to begin with coming into fruition. That’s why Malleus has stayed where he is in my TWST character ranking. I did not expect the writing, no matter how good or tear-jerking, to change that. Until Malleus shows that he’s fully apologetic, recognizes the error of his ways, and consciously tries to connect with others and understand their perspectives, he’s staying squarely where he is.

Am I saying a character with flaws is a bad thing? No, absolutely not! Flaws are what make a character interesting, I’m not faulting Malleus or any other characters for having them. Am I saying that he is poorly written? No, I think Malleus is actually quite a complex character and he’s been really fascinating to follow. I love the emotional complexity of book 7–and it was so clever how the devs related his virtual pet to wishing for happily ever afters for people in his real life. This magnitude of danger is also just about what I expect of book 7 and the themes of togetherness that TWST was angling for from the start. But the fact remains unchanged that I perceive his attitude as irritating at best and reprehensible at worst.

My distaste for Malleus is based entirely on my own views and life experiences. The specific flaws Malleus has and how he acts because of them don’t sit well with me and the kinds of things I enjoy in fiction. It’s not anything deeper than that!

[marleyybluu]

Differences

husband!Rio x f!black!OC ( Toni - no relation to Miss Braxton.)

Word count: 3.2k

Content warning: 18+, smut out the ass, riding, fingering, p in v, creampie, use of the word cock sorry oops, baby-making boogie, doubts about marriage, doubts about kids, fluff, Rio being in love, lot of switching between his names, allusion to food play if you squint hard enough (?). lmk if I missed any.

A/N: this was orginally for... someone else iykyk mind your business, but I switched last minute. Also I gave Rio a middle name lol

(Not my gif, found off Pinterest. but FUCK ME he looks good)

They'd been married for four years. They enjoyed their marital life, going on various trips, spending their money all willy-nilly since it was just the two of them, having parties at their house every holiday but something was missing. At least for Toni. She always wanted to be a mother, children invaded her heart and soul her whole life. Her sisters had children that she loved to babysit, she was even in the delivery room a few times. She'd become a teacher for the sole purpose of spending her days with young ones, making a difference in their lives and loving them wholeheartedly as much as she could.

But it seemed like Rio wasn't in the same boat. Which was stupid because they made sure to have this discussion before they got married and he was on board one hundred percent, Toni wanted to make her husband a father, she wanted to see him cradle a little blanket in his arms, she wanted to see him snuggling next to the chubbiest cheeks and she wanted to see his face light up at their first word but, again, he seemed to not want it for himself.

It was frustrating.

She'd let the four years pass, it was a good time window, they had time to get their lives together and buy a house, fully furnish it, settle into a decent neighbourhood and buy an SUV to fit the little family they dreamed of.

Toni even made sure to let him know when she was ovulating, the perfect opportunity to try and make a child, but he'd shrivel up and disappear when she brought it up. Then she'd spend her nights quietly doubting his interest in kids, his interest in her.

They hadn't spoken in four days, the aftermath of their first real argument, the vibes in the house were heavy and sometimes a bit awkward. She even started staying late at work to avoid him even longer.

They weren't all that selfish, they still said good morning and good night but that was about it. Little to her knowledge it was killing Rio. He hated the silent treatment from her, she was his girl they talked all the time, this had been the best relationship he'd ever been in, he didn't want to fuck it up but it felt like he already did.

He tried sneaking his way back into her heart by leaving little love notes, cooking her favourite meals and turning on her favourite shows in hopes she'd join him on the couch but all he got was the cold shoulder and he understood. He fucked up big time.

"I'm ovulating." She stated plainly. Rio just blinked and shrugged. She groaned. "Christopher, I can't do this anymore, I'm dropping hints that I want to start trying and you... you ignore me."

"I'm not ready."

"When will you be? Because I am."

He chuckled nervously. "Come on, Toni, we cannot be parents. We'll fuck it up."

The look on her face sent his heart into the pit of his stomach, her eyes glossy with tears coming in, and a harsh; "Fuck you, Christopher!"  To follow suit. It stung hearing those words, if she ever said them it was more so in a playful manner but this time she had rage, anger behind her words and rightfully so. But tonight he was determined to make amends, he could not keep living like this.

It was Friday, and Toni decided she'd come home a little earlier. Rio sat up quickly at the sound of her car door slamming and the keys on her keychain jingling as she sifted for the house key. The door opened and he tried his best to keep his cool. "Hi, darlin." He greeted.

"Hey." She said in the most monotone voice he'd ever heard. "Hungry?" He asked. "Nah, I'm cool."

Toni slipped off her shoes and crept up the stairs to their room, she placed her purse on a chair nearby and sighed, just ready to shower and lay down for the rest of the weekend. She walked past their bathroom intending to head to her Vanity but a red spot on the floor caught her eye, and then another... and another. But they weren't spots, they were rose petals, a trail of them leading up to the tub that was already filled with water, the smell of her lavender bath bomb invading her senses. On the counter were a few lit candles and her little speaker so she could play music.

She swallowed her smile and headed back to the room to collect her clothes for the night. Meanwhile, Rio was finishing the final touches on his persuasive dinner downstairs. He made Macaroni just the way she taught him, some rice and chicken, even topped it off with a red velvet cake... okay so he bought the cake but it was the thought that counted right?

He set up the table for both of them to eat together, he set up the forks and knives on the table with a small vase of her favourite flower, pink Dahlia's. His palms were suddenly sweaty, tonight was make or break. If he didn't fix things tonight he had no idea where they would stand after.

Almost an hour later, Toni decided she'd close the distance between them only because she was hungry. Her feet pressed against the carpeted stairs as she descended onto the main floor, the living room was empty, Rio left whatever he was watching on pause. Her head whipped over to the kitchen smelling a lovely fragrance, she followed the trail and stopped in her tracks at the opening to the kitchen. She watched as Rio scrambled to plate their food, she tilted her head and smiled lightly, her eyes slowly forming into hearts. Oh, how she loved him.

"Do you want help?" She asked making her presence known, Rio shook his head. "Just sit and be pretty." She giggled. "I have no problem doing that."

She sat around the table, her eyes landing on the Dahlia's, her smile widened. "You got these for me?"

"Of course," He replied walking with two plates in his hand like a waiter, he put hers down first and then his. "Any drink requests?" He asked. She motioned her finger in a 'come here' motion, his eyebrows knitting with confusion but following her non-verbal instruction, she cupped his face pulling him even closer until their lips, moulding into one. She'd been wanting to kiss him for days, she didn't know if she could ever hold a grudge this long again.

The kiss was quick, just a little show of appreciation. She could see a light shade of pink take over his cheekbones. "Do we have any wine?"

"Went and got two new bottles." He says matter of factly. Toni pecked his lips again before sending him off for her drink. He grabbed two wine glasses and the bottle. "You're going to drink wine?" She asked in utter confusion. He couldn't stand wine, his famous line was 'I don't know how you drink this shit.'

He shrugged sitting down. "I can drink wine."

"Christopher... baby you hate wine."

"I can learn to like it."

She knew he was doing everything to soften her up, but the look on his face when he took a first sip was priceless. "Go and get a beer, leave me and my wine alone." He chuckled and quickly grabbed a bottle from the fridge.

The two sat and actually conversed for the first time in four days. It was nice. They talked without missing a beat, he was making her smile and laugh, she told him about the kids at work and the twinkle in her eye at the smallest mention of them was beautiful. She truly loved her students, they made her day every day with the silly stuff they'd say to her. He was in love with how motherly she could be toward everyone, how forgiving she was of anyone and especially of him. He didn't deserve her and he'd made it known numerous times and in the same amount she'd reassured him that he was just for her.

In the middle of her ramble, she noticed the way he was staring at her and suddenly she became shy. "What?" She asked. "I love you, mama."

"I love you too, Christopher."

He shook his head vigorously. "No, I love you more than you could ever imagine, Toni. And I am so so sorry for what I said."

She sighed. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay. You will be an amazing mom to our kids and I couldn't picture anyone else having them, shit I couldn't even picture having a family until you came, it wasn't in the cards for me." He confessed. "My whole life has changed and I'm forever grateful for it. I want it to keep changing."

She tugged on her bottom lip, trying her best to swallow her tears. "When I saw how my words affected you, baby, my heart broke. I never want to be the reason you're sad. Never. I've missed you these few days. I need you back. I'm sorry."

Toni was speechless, her lips parted to say something but how do you respond to the sweetest apology ever?

Her eyes darted between his pretty brown ones, she stood up and walked over to him, swinging her leg over his she planted herself comfortably on his lap. His hands instantly rested on her hips. She didn't say anything, just leaned down and kissed him and he could swear that on her lips he could taste his past, his present and his future and she was there for every step, for every second. He wouldn't dare say such foolishness to her again.

Toni could feel a little poke through his sweats, she quietly moaned into his mouth, his hands exploring her warm chestnut skin under her shirt, his fingers trickling down her back. His lips moved to her chin and down to her neck to the spot he knew oh so well, his facial hair tickling her skin only adding to the sensation and a ray of goosebumps formed on her skin. "Christopher...mmm." Was all she could mutter, her hips involuntarily moving back and forth desperately searching for friction to soothe the aching of her clit. He got the message though, firmly splaying his hands under her ample ass, he stood up and she wrapped her legs around him.

He was halfway out of the kitchen when he realized; "Wait, I got you a red velvet cake."

Toni laughed, and she kissed his forehead, god he was so cute. "Boy, forget the cake. Take me upstairs and you can eat a different cake."

Rio raised his eyebrows, didn't have to tell him twice. "That's why I married yo ass girl."

She gladly hung off of him while he carried her up the stairs and once they made it to the room he dropped her on the bed, her sweet laughter filled the room. He settled between her legs, peppering her with kisses and affection. "I can't wait to see you, walking around here with a little belly, carrying around our love." He twitched at the thought and she noticed. A small surprised look on her face. "Is the thought of me pregnant... turning you on?"

"No." He quickly denied it. "Christopher Javier Martínez, yes it does." She teased reaching in between them to cup his hardening erection. "Mm, so you want to fill me up? Hm?" Her voice was so smooth and silky yet seductive, her lips pressing against his only for a moment. "You want to see me carrying your baby around? How swollen and plump my breasts are gonna get? Practically spilling over my tops."

"Toni." He groaned. She giggled but her taunting was cut short when he reached into her (well, his) boxers, his fingers teasing her slit, her wetness coating him. Her back arched as he quickly dipped his fingers inside her heat and back out. "Stop playin' with me." She moaned. "Why?"

Her shirt slid up her torso and past her breasts exposing her erect nipples, his mouth quickly latching onto one, his tongue swirling around her pretty brown areolas, so delicious. His free hand massaged her other one, his thumb and index fingers playing with her nipple. Her back arched and her legs squirm under him.

"Christopher, baby, please." She whined. He chuckled and something about was kind of sinister like his intent was to tease her all night until she begged for what she wanted. He popped her nipple out of his mouth, planting a kiss on it before moving on to the next, his hips grinding into hers pressing his clothed cock on her needy clit. "Yes... oh, I need more, please." She gasped.

He kissed between the valley of her breasts, down her torso and finally reaching his destination above the band of her underwear, he tugs them off in almost a hungry manner, his mouth attaching to her pussy like a magnet. His tongue going to work on her clit, his thumb caressing the rest of her slit. Toni's entire body shivered, her legs slowly closing around his head, he used his free hand to smack her inner thigh, she squealed and spread them out, holding the under of her thighs for support.

Her eyes glided to the back of her head, she squirmed, her back arching just a little bit. "Oh... y-yeah." Her toes cracked while pleasure coursed through her veins. Rio hummed against her sensitive nub, his own hips losing themselves as he hunched against the mattress with neediness. Her thighs trembled as they partially rested on his shoulders. She moaned and whined, whimpered and croaked as he devoured her existence.

"fuck, baby, I'm so close." She warned with her jaw slacked as the hairs on her arm stood, her body stiffened, her nails scratched at his scalp with appreciation and love as he carried her through the tantalizing loops of her orgasm.

She was dripping down his beard and he smiled against her thigh, his teeth gently biting on the flesh. "Oh!... Mr. Martinez." She giggled. He kissed his way back up her body, his lips landing on her chin. "I'm so glad I married you." She hummed running her nails over his skin. "Hm, I love you, ma." He cooed pressing a kiss to her nose. Rio slid off his sweats and boxers, dick sliding between her soaking folds. Her hand reached between them wrapping her fingers around his well-sized shaft.

Their lips connect as she guides him inside her soft walls. She gasped and softly moaned as he eased his way in until she was stuffed. Toni wrapped her legs around his waist. "You good?" Just checking. She nodded, too full to speak. His lips occupied her neck, her mind in the clouds as he fucked her stupid. Mutters and mumbles of "fuck me! Yes!" Or "right there!" As he skillfully worked his hips. He held her close, his face buried in the curve of her neck. His thrusts were hard and slow, he was making her feel every inch, every bit of stretch he provided.

Her high creeping its way into her bones, her moans became louder as he consistently tapped against her g-spot. There was no way he was about to make her nut again in such a short amount of time. He could feel her juicy walls contracting around him, hugging him so tight. "You're so wet for me, huh, my pretty baby?" 

Toni's jaw slacked while he talked to her, nibbling on her ear. "So fucking wet, can feel it dripping down my balls, fuck." 

She whined. "I can't- shit! shit! ooooh!" 

He chuckles as he pulls out, regrettably at that. Toni cried out, her climax so close yet so far. Rio fell onto the bed, slapping her thigh he said, "Get on top." 

She sucked her teeth, in no mood to be on top, still irritated from being denied her needs. Rio pinched her and she yelped. "Ow! You dick!" She laughed slapping his arm. "Hurry up and get on this dick." He urged pulling her arm to help her over. She swung her leg across his body, perching herself on his lap like earlier. His dick resting perfectly against one of her cheeks. She looked down at him and he was so fucking pretty. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, her eyes landing on that notorious Eagle tattoo on his throat then down over the rest that he had scattered on his body, she moaned at that alone. 

She leaned forward, raising her hips and skillfully lining him up with her entrance, no hands needed. She watched as his rosy lips parted slightly and a small crease in between his eyebrows formed when they came together. "Fuuuuck." He dragged out feeling his dick be re-enveloped in her velvety walls. Toni moved her hips back and forth with one goal in mind, to get herself off. She used her knees as leverage to lift her hips up and back down, her ass jiggling when colliding with his thighs. With her lip between her teeth, her head tossed back she got to work on him. 

Rio's hands gladly squeezed at her sides, her moans filling the room once again. "You're so fucking pretty on top of me, mama." He encouraged, but he truly meant it, she looked like a fucking angel. "Oh god, oh god... fuck yes, Rio!" He felt himself twitch, his wife rarely called him by his street name, she only did it when she wanted to tease him, loved to do it when they were around others. 

He groaned spanking her. She smiled, a hazy look in her eyes. "What's my name, mama?" 

Toni cried out, her head falling forward as she bounced out her orgasm. "Fu-fuuuck, Rio!" 

"Squeezing this dick so fuckin' tight, come on..." He sat up hooking his arm around her waist, his tongue darting out to the underside of her breast, tasting the saltiness of her sweat. Toni sang out his name, her back arched and her eyes rolled. He grabbed her hips and guided her up and down, her body going limp. "Shit! Oh... Toni, I'm comin' baby." He growled through gritted teeth, he pressed his forehead against her sternum and she softly smiled feeling his warm seed spread inside her. "Fuck... that feels so good." She giggled, she was cock drunk. He kissed her glistening skin. 

They stayed like that for a moment, she kissed the top of his head, her hands on his shoulders as she slowly pushed him onto his back again, she climbed off of him and sighed in satisfaction. "You want something to drink?" He asked, she shook her head. "Nah, you gotta hydrate ma. I'm making sure I put a baby in you tonight." He laughed lightly smacking her thigh. Her cheeks warmed as a smile fell onto her face. 

She watched as Rio, naked and all, left the room to go downstairs. "Bring the cake too!"Toni shouted, he could just hear the smirk in her voice.

"You are so nasty!" He yelled back.

 "You love it though!" 

If you liked this fic free to like this fic, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated. peace and love, see you in the next one 🤙🏾 If you're interested in reading other fics based on songs just like this one you can find them here in 'The Mixtapes.' playlist.

tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @rio-reid-whoreee @skyesthebomb tags that might be interested: @bigenergy777 @realhotgurlshit @lovedlover

[five-rivers]

vacation in camazotz

@rgbyshipper101

.

“... keeps going like this, he’s going to end up dropping the house into another dimension again.”  Danny sighed heavily.  

“Well, that’s not really fair,” said Sam.  

“Huh?  What do you mean?” asked Danny, blinking blankly at her.  “That’s definitely a thing he did.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t totally him.”

“He was pretty tangential, actually,” said Tucker.  “Unless there’s something you aren’t telling us?”

“I… haven’t I told you about the time he sent the house into a parallel dimension?”

“You didn’t exactly need to.  We were all there.”

“No,” said Danny.  “What are you guys talking about?”

“Yes, we were.  The whole town was there,” said Tucker.  

“You know,” prompted Sam.  “Vlad pawning the Ring of Rage off on Valerie, you pulling Fright Knight’s sword out of the ground, Pariah Dark.”

“Yeah, you’re more related to us winding up in the Ghost Zone than your dad is.”

“Ooohhhh, I get what’s going on.  You’re thinking of a completely different time.  The time I’m talking about is way back in sixth grade.”

Sam’s gamer cave (she did not call it that, but that’s what it was) went quiet enough that the faint hum of the computer screens could be heard.  

“Your dad sent you guys to another dimension when you were in sixth grade,” said Sam, spinning her chair around and pointing a painted fingernail at Danny.

“Yeah,” said Danny.

“Three years before your whole…”  She waved her hand at him.  “Thing.”

“Before you got zapped, she means,” said Tucker.

“Yeah.  So?”

“So,” said Sam, “why is that, even though you knew alternate dimensions were a thing and your dad could get you there, you didn’t believe in ghosts and were okay with walking into the portal?”

“Okay, but, look,” said Danny.  He put his controller to one side.  “That’s– That’s a false equivalency.”

“Spending time with Jazz, I see,” said Tucker.  He was now the only one still playing the game.  

“Shut up,” said Danny.  “I know stuff without Jazz telling me about it.  But just because one unbelievable thing is true, that doesn’t mean that all unbelievable things are true.  Besides, the dimension we wound up in was way different from the Ghost Zone.  Had nothing to do with ghosts at all.  Definitely not something you look at and then go, ah, yes, ghosts exist.”

“But you knew that other dimensions existed.  Even if there weren’t ghosts on the other side of the portal, you still could’ve realized that it could take you to another dimension.”

“But it didn’t do that.  It just half killed me.”

“By opening a portal to another dimension in you.”

“And?”

Sam glared at him.  “You’re just playing dumb at this point.”

“Neither of you are playing anything, and I think at this point we can just say that Danny’s dumb.”  Tucker’s computer let out a little jingle as his character completed a quest.  

“Hey!  Most of their stuff doesn’t work,” said Danny, exasperated.  

“But you were messing around with something that they had made work before.  Didn’t you think that could be dangerous?  Or have consequences?  Drop you in yet a different dimension?  Something?”

“They said it didn’t work.  I believed them.  And you guys kept hassling me about it.”

“Someone skipped out on the ‘don’t give in to peer pressure’ PSAs,” said Tucker, singsong.  

“You are not innocent here, Tucker!  We’ve all done dumb stuff.  Can we drop it?  I thought we were playing games today, not playing ‘gang up on Danny for stuff we all did.’”

“Fine,” said Sam.  She picked her controller back up.  Danny picked his up a second later. 

They continued playing the game.  

Then Sam dropped her controller again, this time in her lap.  “Okay, actually, this is going to bother the heck out of me if I don’t know.  How did your Dad drop the house in an alternate dimension?”

“And what was it like?” added Tucker.  He, of course, kept his eyes on the game.  

“What was it like…” said Danny, contemplative.  He made his character run around in circles.  “How to explain?”

“Start with how you got there,” said Sam.  “Go from there.”

“Okay.  Well.  It started off– It was pretty normal.  You know.”

“Uh, no,” said Tucker.  “Sending your house to another dimension is not normal.”

“Normal for them.  For my parents.”

“Define normal here.  Like, describe it,” said Tucker.  

“Working on the portal.”

Sam let out a slow, exasperated sigh.  “Really, Danny?”

“Well, it was that or weapons.  Do you think their weapons teleported us to another dimension?”

“They could’ve.  The bazooka does,” said Tucker.  

“Fair,” said Danny.  “But, like, they were working on the portal, but then they were going over some of the math - it was wrong, obviously - and they saw that there was, like, there was a, um.  There was an ‘interesting result.’  Supposedly, distance fell out of the equation if you had the right inputs.  Something like that.”

“Which means… what?” asked Sam.  

“They thought they could make a teleporter.”

“What!”  Tucker finally whirled away from his monitor.  “They have a teleporter?  They made a teleporter?”

“No.  That’s the whole point.  No teleporter.  They messed it up.  But, like, they built what they thought was a teleporter.  And, of course, as soon as they built it, they had to use it.  Mom wanted to do small tests, sending an apple back and forth or something, but Dad decided to jump right into teleporting the entire house, because it was vacation time.”

“Yeah, okay, that sounds like your dad,” said Tucker.  

“Doesn’t it?  Which is why I’m worried now, because it’s the same thing all over again, he keeps getting too excited and then doesn’t slow down to make sure things work the way they’re supposed to.”

“You have no right to criticize that, Mr. Walks Into a Portal and Dies,” said Sam.  

“I think I’m the only one who does have the right to criticize it.”

“And the dimension?” asked Tucker.  “I want to know about the alternate dimension.”

“Right,” said Danny.  “Well, when Dad ‘teleported’ us, we knew things were wrong pretty much right away.  You guys have read a Wrinkle in Time, right?”

“Sure,” said Sam.  

“Yeah,” said Tucker.  “It was assigned last year, wasn’t it?”

“Right, so, you know the planet with the brain?  It was– It was kind of like that.”  His character died and he sighed.  “I suck at multitasking.  It wasn’t even just the stuff, it was, like, the air was flat.  The texture of everything was wrong.  Everything was… fake?  Like a performance, except it was the whole world.  Everyone just had these smiles on their faces but they were… empty.”

Sam propped her head up on her fist.  “Your parents sent you to play outside and didn’t notice any of that, didn’t they?”

“They did.  But they did notice stuff.  Like, all the houses being the same, the creepy sky–”

“The sky was creepy?”

“Super creepy.  It was like.  Segmented.  Triangles.  Like we were inside a pyramid.  And all the roofs were also pyramids, now that I think about it.  Just, pyramids everywhere.  Really pointy ones.  Oh!  And gravity was also a pyramid.”

“What?” asked Sam.  

“Gravity was a pyramid.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It was a pyramid.  Gravity.”

“Okay, okay, I think I’ve got this,” said Tucker.  “What shape is gravity here?”

“It’s round,” said Danny, “duh.”

“It’s round, so there you go, Sam,” said Tucker.  

“It is round,” said Danny.  “Like, gravitational fields, they’re round.  But they were pyramids there.”

“Wow,” said Sam.  “I wouldn’t have expected that.  Pyramids.”

“See?  Ghost Zone is totally different.”

“Yep,” said Tucker.  His computer let out another chime.  “By the way, you guys owe me soda now.”“How did you do that?” complained Danny.  “You weren’t even looking at the screen!”