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#i did this morning but my emotions caught up with me the rest of the day
lovezbrownies · 8 hours
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I’m on my knees begging you. Darling ends up lashing out at Gen because they are done with the pain she causes them and ends up going to Reina for comfort.
Defense. (Yandere!Military Chief x GN!Reader x Maid)
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Gen's Masterlist - General Masterlist
Synopsis: Sometimes, when you hurt a weak person so much, they tend to fight back.
Warnings: Gen. That's it, she is the warning. Abuse, and fighting.
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Morning sunlight seeped through the narrow window, illuminating the modest room where you awoke, feeling more like a shadow than a person. Beside you, Gen stirred, her form a reminder of the paradox that was your existence. In the light of day, she appeared serene, almost ethereal, but the truth behind her façade was far more complicated. You could hardly remember the last time you felt free, unencumbered by her volatile emotions and the chains of control that bound you. Gen’s affection was often as cold as it was hot, a confusing mix of tenderness and brutality that left you reeling.
You shifted slightly, trying not to wake her, though a part of you was desperate for her to remain asleep. It was in these quiet moments, when she was still, that you felt the weight of your despair most acutely. The memories of her softer moments—the laughter, the fleeting tenderness—would swirl in your mind, but they were always tainted by the sharp edge of her rage, which could erupt without warning. As you lay there, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could endure this emotional tug-of-war, the constant oscillation between love and control.
The sound of her voice, sweet yet laced with something darker, pulled you from your thoughts. “Good morning, love,” Gen murmured, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours. The warmth in her gaze was intoxicating, but beneath it lay an undercurrent of possessiveness that made your skin crawl. “You look so tired. Did you sleep well?” Her concern felt more like an accusation, a reminder that your well-being was tied to her whims. You forced a smile, a hollow gesture that barely touched your eyes. “Just a little restless,” you replied, your voice shaking slightly.
Gen studied you, her gaze penetrating, as if she could peel back the layers of your carefully constructed facade. “Restlessness doesn’t suit you. You know I can help with that, right?” There was a subtle hint of lust in her words, a reminder that any defiance could lead to repercussions. You wanted to scream that you needed more than her twisted version of help, that you were suffocating under her grasp, but the fear of inciting her wrath held you captive. Instead, you nodded, feeling the chains of your reality tighten around you once more.
Days turned into a blur, and you found yourself caught in an unending cycle of Gen’s emotional outbursts. One moment she would be affectionate, wrapping you in her arms as if you were the only thing that mattered, and the next, she would lash out with words that sliced through you like daggers. You had grown accustomed to the shifting tides of her moods, but the toll it took on your psyche was unbearable. The pressure built like a coiled spring, and with every passing day, you felt more trapped, more desperate to escape the prison of your life.
One fateful evening, the tension reached a boiling point. Gen had returned from a meeting, her mood darkened by the weight of her position as Chief of Military and the idiocy of the rest of the Chiefs. You could feel the storm brewing long before she stepped through the door, her energy crackling in the air like a lightning bolt ready to strike. You had prepared yourself for it, but nothing could shield you from the inevitable confrontation. “What’s wrong with you today?” she snapped, her eyes flashing as they found you in the corner of the room. “You’re acting like a child. Are you hiding something from me?”
Your heart raced, and the familiar dread pooled in your stomach. “I’m not hiding anything, Gen,” you stammered, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. “I just—” But before you could finish, she stepped closer, her presence engulfing you, and the air felt thick with tension. “You think I don’t know when you’re lying?” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. In that moment, the fragile threads of your restraint snapped.
“I can’t take this anymore!”
The words burst forth, a primal scream of frustration and anguish. You could feel the weight of your emotions crashing down like a tidal wave, overwhelming you in a way you had never experienced. “I’m tired of your games, Gen! I’m not your possession!” The room fell silent, your voice echoing off the walls like a haunting refrain. For a moment, you felt liberated, the release of truth washing over you, but the fear of her response loomed large.
Gen’s expression shifted from surprise to anger, her eyes darkening as she took a step back, visibly shocked by your outburst. “How dare you speak to me like that?” she spat, her voice cold and unyielding. “You think you can just throw a tantrum and face no consequences? You belong to me!” The venom in her words sent chills down your spine, and despite the defiance you had just shown, you felt a deep sense of dread settle over you.
“I-I belong to no one!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. With that, you turned and fled, the need to escape her presence overwhelming any rational thought. You raced down the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest, desperate to find solace in the only place you could—Reina’s quarters.
You burst into the small, dimly lit room that belonged to Reina, the maid who had become your secret confidante and sanctuary in this life of turmoil. The air was heavy with the scent of lavender, a calming balm in the storm of your emotions. When Reina looked up, her expression shifted from surprise to concern as she took in your disheveled state. Without a word, you rushed into her arms, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you like a cocoon, a safe harbor amidst the chaos.
“Oh, love,” Reina whispered, her voice soft and soothing as she held you close, allowing you to bury your face in the crook of her neck. The comfort of her presence washed over you, momentarily dulling the edges of your pain. “What happened?” she asked gently, her hands stroking your hair, grounding you in the moment. You clung to her as if your life depended on it, the tears you had been holding back spilling over as you let the floodgates open.
“It’s Gen,” you choked out between sobs. “I’m so tired of her hot and cold behavior. One moment she loves me, and the next, I’m nothing but a burden to her. I just snapped! I told her I couldn’t take it anymore, and I…” Your words tumbled out in a rush, the raw honesty of your feelings spilling forth in a torrent that felt both terrifying and liberating.
Reina held you tighter, her body radiating warmth and support. “You did what you had to do,” she murmured, her voice a balm to your frayed nerves. “You stood up for yourself, and that takes courage. I’m so proud of you.” Her words wrapped around you, filling the void of despair that had threatened to consume you. You wanted to believe her, to find strength in her support, but the lingering fear of Gen’s wrath gnawed at the edges of your mind.
“I’m so scared, Reina,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “What if she retaliates? What if she finds out about us?” The weight of your secret hung heavily between you, the knowledge that your love was forbidden casting a shadow over your fragile moment of solace. “We can’t be together like this. It’s too dangerous.”
Reina’s eyes softened, filled with empathy and understanding. “I know, love. But you have to remember that you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll find a way to navigate this together, just like we always have.” Her words were a promise, a reminder that in this dark world, there was still a flicker of hope, a connection that could not be extinguished by Gen’s control.
As you melted into her embrace, the warmth of her body against yours felt like a shield against the storm outside. In that moment, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable, to let go of the burdens you had carried for so long. You breathed in the scent of lavender, letting it fill your lungs, grounding yourself in the reality that for now, you were safe. But deep down, the shadow of Gen loomed large, a constant reminder that your love was a fragile thing, existing in a world that sought to tear it apart.
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thefrogdalorian · 4 months
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Going to be very off-topic for just a sec, but given how that campaign is all over my dash, I feel like I can't go on ignoring the emotions it provokes in me. Plus, since this is such a common struggle, I hope that maybe some of you can relate and I want you to know that you aren't alone at all.
If you're also struggling with your emotions over this and you need someone to talk to in confidence, I'm here for you. I understand.
Anyway, warning for mentions of alcohol abuse below the cut:
It's always fascinating to me how alcohol is marketed as this positive thing which brings you happiness and a great social life. When in reality, it often destroys relationships and lives and is, by definition, a depressant. It is a substance which often leaves you unhappier, fatter, lonelier, weaker, sicker, poorer...
And also, do you ever notice how it's never marketed around the taste (because it's literally poisonous and due to social pressure, we have to trick our brains by drinking it enough times that we eventually convince ourselves we actually like the taste of poison)?
It's always about sharing a beer with friends at the beach or enjoying a glass of wine with a meal. Never about how delicious it tastes...
While you may crave the feeling of being drunk, do most people really enjoy the taste and that's the primary reason why they drink? Is that the main reason given at AA meetings/rehab clinics? Do you ever hear alcoholics say: "I couldn't stop drinking that beer because it was just so crisp and refreshing!"
No, of course not. Alcohol is primarily used as a social crutch, or as an escape from one's problems. Dutch courage, social drinking where you feel giggly, giddy and tipsy... until one day you realise you can't socialise without it and it transforms from enjoyment to dependency, hopefully before you permanently damaged your organs...
Anyway, this isn't me being puritanical. I'm not mad at these campaigns or those who star in them, because at the end of the day, celebrities will always take cash from questionable sources. Money talks. Always has, always will.
It's merely an observation on the life this campaign 'sells,' as someone who has decided to break the generational cycle of alcoholism in my family and has been sober for 18 months now.
And a way for me to sort through my feelings and vent my own emotions around these kinds of campaigns. I don't miss alcohol and I don't feel tempted to drink whatsoever, but it's everywhere and there will remain a danger for the rest of my life that I could forget everything I've learned about alcohol. I don't want to lose sight of why I walked away from this destructive drug which is so widely accepted. When the truth is it is far more harmful to you than many illegal drugs.
If you enjoy alcohol, I truly hope you have fun with it in moderation. But I hope you can also stop and recognise the risks involved each time you reach for the bottle. The slippery slope you may be on which there is a danger you don't realise you've been sliding down until you're at the bottom, looking back up. And I hope you realise that what these advertising campaigns show are never rooted in the reality of what this substance can do to you.
If you start drinking that beer, it's far more likely you'll end up with kidney damage than you will ever get to share a cold bottle of it on the beach with that actor you love so much...
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rainydayathogwarts · 3 months
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The team discovers you're dating - Aaron Hotchner
d/n: daughter's name.. Summary: The team discovers you're dating because of Jack's freudian slip. (singlemom!bau!reader) 0.7k wc
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Small trudging footsteps paired with loud squeals caught the attention of the agents in the bullpen, an apologetic SSA following after his son. Derek and Penelope raced to the young boy, Derek scooping him up the second he was close enough, beating his work wife by seconds. "I'm sorry guys, national holiday and our sitter cancelled." The team dismissed him, understanding of his protectiveness over his son. After seeing so many cases, there was no way he'd let a random person look after his son. "I'll take him down to the daycare in a second, but Jack here just wanted to say hello to someone first."
Derek exaggeratedly frowned, looking down at the blonde boy "Is uncle Derek not the person you were looking for Jacky boy?" Jack shook his head, loud giggles filling the bullpen, just as the glass door opened one more. "Sorry guys," You started, trying to flip strands of hair out of your face while balancing your coffee and keeping your bag on your shoulder. "I had to drop d/n at daycare, sitter cancelled." You gasped loudly when you spotted the small figure in Derek's arms, placing all your things on the closest desk as you opened your arms wide. Jack wiggled his legs in Derek's arms so he could be put down on the floor, a wide smile gracing his features. You crouched down on the floor, grinning at the boy, who yelled loudly "Mommy!" as he ran into your arms.
An eerie silence filled the bullpen as all conversation died down. You wrapped your arms around the boy, his words sinking into your teammates' heads. You lifted Jack up into the air with a clueless smile, standing tall enough so you could see all of your coworkers' facial expressions, when it hit you. Your eyes widened and you froze, past the point of collecting yourself or trying to brush off what Jack said as an accident.
"What did he just say?" You hear Penelope interrogate, looking back and forth between the profilers in the room, hoping to get an answer. As though sensing the change in atmosphere in the room, Jack lifted his head from the crook of your neck, looking up at your face. You moved your stance to balance him on your hip, using the other hand to pick up your to-go cup and take a long sip of your coffee. "You wanna try my coffee Jack?" You teased, breaking the silence between you and him, laughing as the boy pulled a face of disgust, remembering the time he smelt his dad's black coffee one morning when you were over with d/n.
"Yuck! ... Mommy, am I gonna see d/n?" He asks, swinging his legs happily. You're painfully aware of the eyes stuck on you and the boy, glancing up to look at Aaron, observing his reaction. He's smiling softly at you and his son, back turned to the other agents in the bullpen. He walks over to you just as you reply to Jack "She's in daycare right now! Do you want to go join her?" Jack nods excitedly, arms lifting up when his dad walks over, allowing him to take him from you. "Well since the cat's out of the bag." Aaron shrugs, leaning down to press a kiss on your lips, walking out with Jack in his arms who giggles loudly "What cat daddy?"
With Jack finally facing away from you, you let all your emotions show up on your face: shock, confusion, and most importantly embarrassment to being exposed to your relentless team of close friends who will never stop the questions:
'How long?' 'Jack calls you mommy?' 'Don't you owe me money Morgan?'
You laugh at Spencer's comment, watching as Derek fishes his wallet out of his pocket, holding up a 20 dollar bill for Spencer to take. Rossi pushes himself off the desk behind him, where he faces Emily and the rest of the team. He sighs, shaking his head "For the record, I knew his whole time. And at least now you don't have to hide your ring, y/n." He states as he walks away. "You're married!?" Emily and JJ yell at the same time as Penny squeals loudly, running to hug you tightly. "Engaged!" You try saying over the noise. "Engaged not married!"
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girliemattitude · 3 months
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— - 3 Times you and Matt were caught by the cameras (Fans)- — M.S - —
A/N: Do you guys actually want a pt.2 of ‘guilty as sin’???? I just don’t know how to continue it 😭 A/N (2): This is my work please don’t steal it <3
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1. “Night out”
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The venue pulsed with a mix of blue and red lights, casting vibrant shadows across the room. Influencers mingled, their conversations a constant hum beneath the thumping bass of the music. I spotted Matt standing against the wall, a cup of root beer in his hand, looking as out of place as he always did at these events. He'd only come because I convinced him, promising it would be fun.I made my way through the crowd and sidled up to him, teasingly nudging his arm. "Come on, Matt, let loose a little," I urged with a playful smile. Before he could protest, I took the cup from his hand and finished his root beer, even though it wasn’t my favorite drink. Setting the empty cup on the floor, I grabbed his hands and started to sway, pretending to dance. He gave me that side smile that always made my heart skip a beat. "You’re impossible, you know that?" he said, but his voice was warm.Ignoring his mock complaint, I placed his hands on my waist and intertwined mine on his shoulders. The music was infectious, and soon, Matt began to move with me. As he relaxed, he rested his head in the crook of my neck, planting a sweet kiss there. I shivered at the touch, feeling a rush of affection. He pulled back slightly to look at me, then leaned in to give me a few soft pecks on the lips.
Time seemed to blur as we danced, lost in our own little world amidst the chaos of the party. I pressed my back against his chest, his hands firmly on my waist, his head resting on my shoulder. Every so often, I’d lift a hand to caress his face or run my fingers through his hair, feeling his contentment mirrored in my own. Dancing with Matt, feeling the gentle sway of our bodies in sync, I felt a rush of emotions. The warmth of his breath on my neck, the softness of his lips against my skin—it all made me feel flustered, my heart racing in the most delightful way. His closeness, the way his hands moved gently on my waist, sent shivers down my spine. I could feel a blush creeping up my cheeks, my breath hitching slightly as the intimacy of the moment enveloped us. Unbeknownst to us, the room was filled with influencers recording and taking pictures of themselves, Matt and I on the background of most of them.
The next morning, social media was buzzing with videos of us kissing and dancing. Fans of Matt, who were always curious about our private relationship, were thrilled to see this rare glimpse into our lives. The comments were filled with excitement and joy, many expressing how happy they were to see Matt looking so relaxed and in love. As I scrolled through the posts, I glanced over at Matt, who was still asleep beside me. A smile tugged at my lips, knowing that even though he hated these events, last night had been worth it for both of us. Matt stirred beside me, blinking his eyes open as he reached for his phone. Moments later, he sat up, his face a mix of amusement and concern.
"Did you see this?" he asked, showing me a video of us dancing and kissing.I laughed softly. "
Yes, babe, don't worry. It's all good," I replied, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "They’re mostly good comments anyway."
He sighed, relief washing over his features. "I just didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed by it." I snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against mine.
"I’m not. Last night was perfect, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything."
2. “Madison’s concert”
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Matt and I had been looking forward to Madison's concert in L.A. for weeks. The anticipation had been building, and when the day finally arrived, we were buzzing with excitement. As we walked towards the venue, the energy of the crowd was palpable. When we arrived, fans immediately recognized Matt and his brothers. They cheered and called out their names, waving eagerly. A few fans even shouted out my name, making me blush as we waved back at them. It was a surreal experience, and we soaked in the moment before finding our seats.
As the concert began, we stood, eager to immerse ourselves in the music. Madison took the stage, and the crowd erupted in applause. A few songs in, I was singing along, my voice blending with the thousands of others in the venue. The atmosphere was electric. Suddenly, I felt Matt's arms wrap around me from behind. He pulled me close, his warmth seeping into me. Gently, he moved my hair to the side and leaned down to plant a lingering kiss on my exposed shoulder. I shivered at his touch, leaning back into him and intertwining my hands with his on my stomach. The music, the crowd, and the intimacy of the moment made everything feel perfect.
We didn’t noticed but a few people around us had noticed our tender moment and started recording. We were lost in our own world, completely unaware of the attention we were garnering.
The next morning, we woke up to a flood of notifications. Our moment at the concert had been shared across multiple fan pages. Videos and photos of Matt hugging me and kissing my shoulder were everywhere. Fans commented on how sweet we looked together, and the unexpected attention made us smile.
3. “Pizza place”
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Matt, Nick, Chris, and I decided to have a relaxing evening out, heading to our favorite pizza place. It was a quiet spot with just a few people, which was a relief. We could feel comfortable without the usual buzz of fans asking for pictures. Not that we minded it was just nice to have a break sometimes and feel like normal people. As we waited, Nick started to complain about how long it was taking for our pizza to be ready and Chris was being his goofy self. Matt, sensing my slight boredom, pulled me into a side hug, resting his head on my shoulder and making an exaggerated exhausted face. I couldn't help but laugh a little at his playful demeanor. He kissed my cheek a few times and squeezed my waist tightly. I gently pulled away to look at him, fixing his hair with one of my hands. We smiled at each other, and in that moment, it was clear how in love we are. The whole moment was being recorded by a girl in the corner. By the time we got home, clips of us laughing at something Chris said and our sweet moment were already all over the fan pages. Fans commented on how happy and in love we looked, and while it was a little overwhelming to see ourselves online again, it was heartwarming to know that our happiness resonated with so many people.
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leclerc-hs · 3 months
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do i wanna know? (pt.2) - cl16
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pairing: brother'sbff!charles x gasly!reader summary: in which you find yourself tangled in a web of emotions with your brother's best friend OR it was never just sex between you and your brother's best friend warnings: 18+, smut under the cut!, badly translated french (prob), angst!!!!, not proofread!! word count: ~2.3k author's note: SURPRISE SHAWTY!!!!!! i am here apologizing for being MIA for so long. if this is SHIT I apologize I just have been struggling with writer's block for months and have been very stressed and busy with work!!! I really tried my best so don't be too mean to me over this lmaooo. I love u all!!! there will be more of them to come ;) also since it's been so long since I've properly written this MIGHT be a little rusty so pls forgive me
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
THE TRANQUIL MELODY of the waves crashing against the shore is truly a captivating sight. You sat by the water in an oversized t-shirt and bikini bottoms, absorbed in the symphony of nature. So engrossed were you in the soothing sounds, the glistening water, and the caress of the breeze, that Charles’s approach caught you off guard.
“There you are,” his voice resonated like the ocean. You sensed the warmth of his presence as he settled beside you on the sand, propped up on his hands.
Though you didn’t turn to face him, you could feel his gaze fixed on your profile.
“Do you think we’re being stupid?” You couldn’t help but ask. 
“Quoi?” What?
“I just don’t want to hurt Pierre.” You finally turned your head to look at him. “Was it a mistake?”
You didn’t think it was. But the more you sat and thought about it, the more stressed over the situation you became. 
“No.”
You smiled softly, pulling your knees up and resting your head upon them as you truly took in the sight of him. 
“I think we should do it again.”
-
The two of you fell into a pattern quickly.
“Such a dirty fucking slut,” Charles groans out loud as he looked at the sight of you on your knees before him. His cock was heavy in your hand as you slowly start to pump him. Pre-cum leaking from the tip, oozing onto your fingertips. It was a gooey mess.
You stare up at him with a smirk on your lips as you take in his flushed cheeks and his pale knuckles from clenching the countertop so tightly.
“Mmm,” You moan as you bring him to your mouth, swirling your tongue around him slowly. You suck lightly before dragging him in and out of your mouth. 
You swore you could look at him for forever and never get tired of it. You were constantly in the depths of convincing yourself it was nothing but sex. 
“So fucking beautiful.”
“Could stare at you all day, mon ange.”
But is it really?
-
You’re not sure when it changed. But it did.
The gentle warmth of the morning sun seeped through the delicate curtains, causing you to let out a soft groan as you slowly awakened. Shifting in the bed, you squint against the bright light, and eventually force yourself to emerge from the cozy embrace of sleep.
As you turn your head, your attention was instantly met by the striking view of a broad, bare, and muscular back dominating your view. Instantly, a swarm of butterflies fill your stomach.
The early sunlight cast a soft glow on his smooth, tanned skin, accentuating the sculpted contours of his muscles. His breathing was steady and calm, a comforting rhythm that contrasted with the crisp morning air. His hair, slightly messy, fell against the nape of his neck.
The gentle upward curve of your lips was almost instinctive as you reached out toward him, running your fingers through the soft wisps of hair at his neck.
He lets out a small grumble as he shifts around, his face nestled in the pillows. Then, he turns to you, his gentle smile already in place before he opened his eyes. His arm drapes over you almost instantly, tugging you into the warmth of his body and immediately peppering soft kisses to your neck.
“Je pourrais rester ici pour toujours.” Could stay right here for forever. He whispers in between the soft kisses.
You feel the blush form on your cheeks almost instantly.
“Me too,” you respond softly.
“Do you think we could?”
The longing to say��yes tugged at your heart, but you resisted, knowing the potential complications it could bring. Instead, you laughed, trying to shake off the heavy thoughts about the chaos and challenges that might follow. For now, it was just the two of you. Just two regular people.
No Pierre. No burdens of the outside world.
It’s been weeks of this. Whatever this was between you. You both found yourself too greedy to give it up. The sex was too good. He was too good.
-
Strong fingers intertwine with the strands of your hair, a delicate tug at the roots sends a tingling sensation cascading across your scalp, igniting a fiery yet exquisite sensation that dances on the edge of pleasure and exhilaration. 
“Nous devons faire attention.” We need to be careful. You softly groan as your bare back becomes flush against the contours of his chest, slightly dampened with sweat. The pace of his hips doesn’t falter as he brings his lips to the shell of your ear.
“Pourquoi?” Why? You know he’s teasing you. “Want me to stay hidden, hm?” The one hand that rests against the soft skin of your hips squeezes hard, as if he needed the reminder that you were here and, in his arms, and on his cock. “Ton petit secret sale?” Your dirty little secret?
The words wouldn’t come. Every time you tried to speak, they tangled in your throat, choked by the weight of the situation. You wanted to tell Charles that you didn’t see him that way, that he meant more to you than anyone else. But your brother…his best friend, loomed too large over whatever it was you two were.
You struggled to hide your wince as Charles places a quick but harsh squeeze to your throat. 
“Not even that will shut you up, hm?” He groans in between each thrust. “Pierre is in the room next over. It’s like you want to be caught.”
“Maybe I should just call him in here, hm?” 
You felt yourself pushing back against his thrusts, meeting him in the middle at a feverish pace, needing to remove the ache between your legs.
“Let him see how big of a cock slut you really are.”
You shook your head, soft moans escaping your dampened lips as his arm slips down and presses to your clit.
“No?” He eggs you on. “You’re just my little cockslut, right?”
You nod eagerly, your head lolled back against the crevice of his shoulder and neck for support. 
“Say it.” He demands, his fingers quickening on your clit. “Tell me you’re my little cockslut while you cum all over me.”
“I’m-“ You struggle to get the words out, too caught up in the way his cock slips in and out of you, his fingers rubbing your clit, and the groans escaping past his lips into your ear.
“C’mon mon ange,” He grits. “Make a fucking mess.”
“I’m yours.”
It happened so fast, it was almost a blur as Charles hurriedly pushes you face first into the mattress, hips slamming into you at such a speed, you both went soaring over the edge of your orgasms.
A few quiet minutes passed as you both caught your breath, little laughs and smiles as both of your bodies lie in a tangled mess.
-
“The Gala is coming up,” Charles spoke. His throat burning in anticipation as he waited for you to catch onto what he was implying. He wanted you by his side. Wanted you on his arm. Wanted no one to touch you but him.
“Nous avons déjà discuté de cela.” We’ve discussed this already.
Charles could slowly feel the annoyance building in his chest as he pushed himself up off the bed, dragging his body to the bathroom to retrieve a wet cloth to clean you up. He wasn’t used to this, to say the least. And he wanted you to himself so fucking badly.
It wasn’t until after his finished cleaning you up, that he spoke again. “Combien de temps?” How long?
You sat up, slipping on whatever article of clothing was closest to you. No doubt, one of Charles’ worn t-shirts that draped to your thighs.
You tilted your head to the side just slightly, encouraging him to continue.
“How long will you avoid telling Pierre?”
-
Giving Charles the silent treatment was probably the worst thing you could’ve done to him. But you didn’t know what else to do. 
Your back was turned to him, the burn of his eyes on the nape of your neck had you on high alert. You couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t meet his gaze.
The room felt colder with each passing second, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you both. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. A part of you wanted to turn around, to meet his gaze and to find some way to fix whatever this was. But the fear of what you might see in his eyes—hurt, anger, hunger—kept you frozen in place. Well, as frozen as you could be while dancing with another man.
He was proper cute. Tan skin, chocolate eyes, scruffy hair. His name, however, slipped past your mind. You think it was Rob. Or was his name Ryan? Something with an R. You think.
It didn’t help in the slightest bit that Pierre is the entire reason you’re in this situation to begin with. He practically forced you into the arms of Rob. Or is it Ryan?
“You look beautiful tonight,” The man looked down upon you, a small grin on his face as he twirled you around the dance floor. A small blush crept up on your cheeks.
“Merci.” You thanked him. “How do you know my brother?” You needed to keep the conversation going. Anything to take your mind off the stare burning your skin from afar.
He opened his mouth to begin a response but was instantly interrupted as soon as the voice of another was by your side.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Charles began, but he was clearly anything but sorry. His voice was stoic, void of any emotion but annoyance. “I need a word with you.” And before you could put up any argument, his fingers clasped onto your wrist, dragging you away from the dance floor and out of the ballroom.
Despite your protests for him to slow down, he continued at his unrelenting pace, tagging you along without regard to your inability to keep up. Charles then ushered you, if one could call it that, into what appeared to be a cramped coat closet.
The dim lighting obscured the usual green hue of his eyes, leaving you uncertain whether it really was the poor illumination or his evident anger that caused this change.
“Are you crazy?” You half-shout, waving your arms in the air in frustration once you pull your wrist from his grip. “You just made an absolute scene in there!” 
“I made a scene?” He raises his voice in frustration. Like he can’t believe that you have an issue with his behavior when you were the one dancing with another man. “You might as well just go fuck that guy on the dance floor!” 
He knew he was talking in fits of jealousy, and he knows that it’s wrong. But he couldn’t contain it. Couldn’t help but have an outburst over this situation. You didn’t even look at him the entire night.
“It was one dance!”
“I don’t care if it’s just one. It may as well be five hundred!” He sneered while his fists clenched at his sides. “Je ne partage pas.” I don’t share.
“I can’t do this right now.” You pleaded softly.
“Do what, exactly?”
“This.” You silently begged for him not to continue questioning. To not go there.
“And what is this?” or what he really meant is ‘what are we?’.
You both fell into a silence as the weight of the question weighed down on you both. You didn’t want to reach this point. You both knew what it was, but you weren’t ready for the answer. It was supposed to be fun and just sex. Something Pierre would never need to know about.
Charles took your silence as an answer. But he refused to accept it. He made a small step towards you, his green eyes locked onto yours, to which you retreated one back.
“Please don’t come closer,” You begged with a small quiver of your lip. “I need you to stand a step away from me.” You knew the moment he was closer; you were done for. Your resolve would be over.
“I can’t.” He emphasized. “I can’t stay away. Not from you.” He was distraught. Why didn’t you understand? 
“Charles, please.” Your lip quivered just slightly as your hands fell at your sides, your fingers playing with the fabric of your dress.
“Do you think I want to be like this?” He pushed. “Do you think I want to be thinking about my best friend’s sister 24/7?” He could feel his resolve slipping the longer he stared at you. You were beautiful, one of the easiest people to talk to, and he couldn’t not love you.
It was so quick. One second you both were feet apart, the next his lips were pressed against yours as your hands grabbed onto his biceps pulling him closer to you. The feel of his muscles underneath his suit were prominent against your fingertips as you moaned softly into his mouth.
Both hands enveloped your jawline, sprawling onto your neck in a feverish rush. It was a clash of tongue and teeth, and neither of you wanted to stop.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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Giving Bill Cipher the princess treatment prompt or hc's? (Bill totally isn't threatening Reader's entire family if they don't princess carry him and call him babygirl) I love how you write Bill by the way!
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Warning: unhealthy relationship stuff and threats from bill.
After everything that went down with sixer and his supposed ‘betrayal’ bill didn’t think he’d find an another puppet companion so soon until one day he came across poor unfortunate you.
Some half baked sob stories of his origins and looking through his fingers at you to make sure you were feeling sympathy for him later, and you were effectively under his thumb by the end of the week. The quickest he’s ever manipulated someone into feeling sorry for him yet!
Now you were stuck forced to carry him in your arms whenever he wished and calling him…baby girl…why you never bothered to ask as whenever you did raise things into question with Bill it usual turns out something like this:
You: don’t you think that’s a little extreme?
Bill: and here I thought you were suppose to be supportive of my dreams and aspirations. Oh well I guess you didn’t need your family that much if you’re quick to question me-
You: No! It’s a brilliant plan! No flaws at all! You’re so smart…baby girl…
Bill: *smirks when you fall back in line* good now I demand to be carried in your arms *he gives you grabby hands*
You: *sigh* yes baby girl *proceeds to pick him up and carry him for the rest of the day*
You’d even have to call Bill baby girl when your mad unless you wanted the corpses of your family to be piled up on your front door!
It was ridiculous but what could you do when stuck in a less than ideal relationship with a demonic triangle who could bring you to heel with a simple click of his fingers? You were doomed to be his servant for the sake of your family and even if you did go to anyone about it, who’d believe you? You’d be the new old man Mcgucket for certain.
So you only sigh and do whatever Bill wanted in hopes it will satisfy him enough to leave your family alone, even if it was brief.
The worst case scenario would be If bill saw that you weren’t being enthusiastic in your affection towards him, then that would be a harder thing to dig your way out of. It didn’t matter whether you were tired mentally or physically, if Bill wanted to be carried in your arms he will want you to do so with a complicit smile on your face.
Bill: you don’t look happy to be carrying me? *squints his eye*
You: *quickly puts on a fake smile* what?! I’m more than happy to carry my baby girl! It’s the only highlight of my day, nothing could ever compete with spending time with my baby girl!
Bill: good! For a second there I thought you’d have to be attending a family members funeral for a moment. Haha guess I must’ve been seeing things, right? *he stares uncomfortably at you*
You: yeah because how could I ever show you any other emotion other than happiness and love. *internally dying*
Bill: also don’t over compliment me, it makes you look clingy and I don’t like clingy.
You internally: as if you aren’t clingy yourself you fucking discarded sentient Dorito chip.
It’s better to keep playing his game until he inevitably grows bored of you, and god forbid if you ever encounter Stanford Pines ever, your family is certain for destruction if Bill caught you talking to his traitorous ex partner. (Potential for Stanford x reader?)
Needles to say if you were to ever be granted the ability to time travel, you’d go back and warn yourself to not trust Bill Cipher, not if you want your family’s blood on your hands just because you didn’t call him Babygirl first thing in the morning.
You: morning bi-
Bill: whichever family member your love the most will die in 5 seconds if you don’t correct yourself sweetie.
You: morning babygirl, what should we do today?
Bill: *pats you on the shoulder* that wasn’t so hard was it? And I don’t feel like doing anything that requires me to part from you for suspicious periods of time incase you do something I don’t like. *stares at you menacingly*
You: good choice! All day with my babygirl? I’m so lucky…so extremely….lucky. *looks over at the photo of your family and friends* blessed even…
Bill: you sure are! Now why don’t you carry me! *grabby hands 2.0*
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c0eu4 · 10 months
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OP81 | Secret relationship
Summary: Y/n and Oscar are in a secret relationship, nobody knows about them. Until they are caught.
Warning: secret relationship, y/n is Toto's daughter, sexual allusion, sex discussion
A/N: Not my fav but I really wanted to write one like that.
MASTERLIST requests are open
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Oscar just got P2 for Sunday's race. When y/n saw this, she didn't show any emotion, since both Mercedes drivers were out in q2. But deep inside, she was jumping for joy. She used the excuse of being angry to walk very quickly into the McLaren garage, impatiently waiting for Oscar to return.
When she saw him arrive, his hair wet from the sweat, his helmet in his hand and his suit open at the top, she thought she was going to cum right away.
He walks past her, as if she were a stranger, but grabs her hand firmly to force her to follow him. She acts as if nothing happened and quickly follows him. He directs them to their little weekend corner, behind a building where no one passes.
His hands slide to her hips, pinning her against the wall and pressing his lips to hers at the same time. She responds to the kiss by adding a few small movements of her lips, her hands resting at the base of his neck, pulling him towards her.
His lips leave hers, moving to her neck, biting it while trying not to leave any marks there.
She runs her fingers through his hair, whispering to his ear, ''I'm so proud of you, my love.'' He presses his hips against hers, biting lower towards her collarbone. A little whine escapes her mouth, as she tries to not be too loud.
''People are waiting for you Osc-'' He didn't let her finish by kissing her again, introducing his mouth to explore her inner cheeks. As he tries to bring their bodies even closer, they hear someone calling for Oscar. ''Oscaaaaar!! Where are youuu!!???'' Lando is looking for him.
He breathes in displeasure into their kiss, breaking it in the process. She puts her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to turn his head to kiss him on the cheek.
''He can't do anything without you, can he? I'm going to start getting jealous.'' He chuckled, kissing her one last time. ''OSCAAAAAAAR'' They look at each other and burst in a silent laugh.
They quickly calm down, having to return to their occupation. ''Meet me in my room tonight at 9 p.m.'' He winks at her, leaving first.
''What the hell were you doing behind a building?'' She heard Lando asking Oscar. ''Just visiting you know.'' She giggles. He's such a bad liar. ''Mate did you wear red lipstick?'' Her eyes widen, knowing that her red lipstick might stick to Oscar's lips. ''You can be so weird sometimes Lando.'' She hears their voices fading little by little, telling her that she can come out of hiding.
She watches them leave from behind and walks quickly towards the Mercedes garages.
🏎️_ _ _ _ _
She wakes up the next morning, Oscar against her, completely naked. She looks at the time on her phone, 8am. She is dead. The probability of meeting someone in the hotel corridors at this hour is immense. They shouldn't have had so much fun the night before and she would have woken up at the usual time, to return to her room without being seen.
She gets up quickly, trying not to wake Oscar but despite that, he groans in displeasure, ''Y/n ?''. She doesn't answer him, rummaging around the room for her clothes. She quickly puts them on, putting her jewelry back on in a hurry.
''You're leaving?'' He looked at her, his hair completely messy and his eyes half closed. ''Yes love, it's already 8am.'' He gets up from the bed quickly, getting up to get dressed himself. ''Oh no no no.. That's bad.. I'm so sorry..'' She giggles and puts on her ear ring, ''It's ok kitty.'' She approaches him and kisses him. As she turns towards the door, he lightly slaps her butt, making her laugh again.
She slowly opens the door and sticks her head in. She looks from left to right, no one. She leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
Walking to her room, she tries to quickly put her hair back into place. As she turns the corridor, she comes face to face with Georges and Carmen. Why does this have to happen to her? She passes by them, head slightly lowered, avoiding any contact with them.
''Hey Y/n, you decided to get up early this morning.'' Carmen is an adorable woman who doesn't hesitate to get news from others. But this is a really bad time for y/n.
''Oh ehm yeah yeah ahah. Sorry but I have something really important to do.'' She says, walking really fast to her hotel room.
Georges and Carmes look at her strangely, not trying to understand any further. Once she is calm in her room, she can breathe.
She looks for her phone in her pocket. How stupid she can be sometimes. She forgets her phone at Oscar's bedroom.
_ _ _
As y/n leaves Oscar's room, he goes into the shower and gets ready as usual. He makes his bed and notices y/n’s phone on the nightstand. He chuckles, just imagining her face when she realized it. He takes it with him, deciding that he will give it back to her before leaving to go to the track.
He finishes getting ready, checks his backpack and leaves his room. He walks quietly, as if nothing happened towards y/n's room, her phone in his hand. He knocks on the door. No answer. He knocks again. Still no answer.
He sighs and decides to give it back to her at the track. Even if it was riskier with all the journalists hovering around him.
He puts her pink phone in his pocket, already heading towards the elevator. He calls it and gets inside. One personnel from Mercedes is already there. He looks weirdly at Oscar as he enters the elevator.
Oscar says hello to him, he doesn't answer. ''A good start to the day'' he said to himself, finding himself smiling at his think.
The elevator arrives at the ground floor, Oscar leaves quickly, not wanting to stay any longer in this awkward place.
He quickly joins the track by car, enters the McLaren paddocks and goes to say hello to the whole team. He still notices that some people continue to look at him strangely. Some time later, Lando arrives. He also says hello to everyone but quickly starts talking with Oscar.
''Next time, try to be more discreet.'' Oscar feels himself blushing. But what is he talking about? He hopes it's not because of the wonderful night he just had. The hotel walls are supposed to be soundproof.
''What are you talking about?'' He manages to ask him. ''A video of you coming up to me from behind a building and then of y/n Wolff coming out of the exact same place as you is making the rounds on the internet.'' Oscar catches his breath, relieved that it's not what he was thinking. But he quickly starts to panic again, having to find y/n as quickly as possible.
''Oh no no no no.. that's really bad.'' He leaves Lando, already heading towards the Mercedes garage. Lando follows him, trying to continue the conversation. ''Oh my god is it real?'' He teases Oscar by pushing him softly with his shoulder.
Oscar groan in displeasure. ''It's been like.. for over 5 months that we're dating and it's only now that you notice it?'' Lando jumped out of joy. ''How did I manage not to see anything!?''
Oscar doesn't care about Lando and continues walking to the Mercedes garage. He finds y/n there, headphones on her ears, her father next to her. He pats her shoulder and simply give her phone back.
Then he quickly leaves to prepare for the race, feeling Toto's gaze on him. He just hears him ask y/n a question, ''So is it serious between you?'' but doesn't hear y/n's response.
🏎️_ _ _ _ _
She stares at the big screen in front of her, her eyes wide and full of hope. He crosses the finish line, second. She is so proud of him. Without even thinking about the consequences, she runs to the barrier to cheer him as he gets out of his car, arms up proudly.
She looks at him, stars in her eyes as he runs into the arms of his team, cheering and congratulating him. He takes off his helmet when he sees her. With a big smile on his lips, he approaches her. She places her hands on his cheeks and kisses him tenderly, under the amazed eyes of thousands of people.
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synthetickitsune · 5 months
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Jeonghan (SVT) | Wedding Cake fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader
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You really won’t do it, right? You recall asking the question about a week ago, remember your teeth sinking into your lip and shaky breathing. You felt bad about asking then, and you feel the same shame now. There is no reason to ask, nor to doubt, afterall. Jeonghan would never hurt you intentionally. His teasing and pranks are all for entertainment, curated carefully to whoever is their victim, so no harm is caused, no damage done that can’t be fixed with a hug and his loving smile.
The same smile is deeper, fonder, all the more blinding now as Jeonghan looks at you from just a couple steps away. He looks so handsome in his suit, a tiny flower in his breast pocket. It doesn’t look as pretty as it did in the morning - no surprise there, you expected it’d become his emotional support item for the day. You caught him fidgeting with it a few times. But your eyes barely linger on the petals before you finally gather the courage to meet his eyes. Your husband’s eyes. 
Your heart beats just a little faster. The label is still so new and exciting. This is the man you chose to marry, to spend the rest of your life with. You trust him, you know he’d never hurt you. The gentle and loving look in his eyes makes you fall in love with him again. It usually soothes you in an instant, but your anxiety is fueled by the number of people in the room, by the atmosphere, and you know how quickly his gaze can turn from gentle to playful.
It’s time. You close the short distance between you and let him pull you closer by the waist, feel some nerves calm down when he kisses your cheek and smiles at you.
The cake in front of you is what you dreamed of. It’s beautiful and the decorations are cute, yet your stomach also twists slightly. Everything and everyone is in place. Jeonghan picks up the knife and you follow his lead, wrapping your hand around the handle too. You hear the camera shutter click a few times and get a little conscious of your expression. What face are you making? You’re not sure, but you think you’re smiling because your husband is holding you close and you can feel his heart beating fast where his chest presses a little against your shoulder.
The cake is cut, and suddenly your mouth feels dry. You watch in slow motion as Jeonghan’s hand moves towards the cake and you close your eyes, blink for just a second longer than you should. Thousand mortifying scenarios run through your head. Your clothes ruined, your hair dirty with cake, your face a mess. You keep your eyes closed for another second. There’s a little smudge of something cold and wet on your lips.
You open your eyes and try to look down, but there are gentle fingers on your chin and chuckling Jeonghan who pulls you into a sweet kiss. Sweet as in literally sweet. You can taste the icing from the cake. Laughing into the kiss, you pull your husband closer before pulling away. You touch your lips but there’s nothing of the icing left.
He’s smiling too, but you see the way he tilts his head to make sure you’re okay. You are. You hear your friends and family laughing, see their smiling faces from the corner of your eye. Their happiness cannot match yours, however.
“Did you really think I’d smash your face into the cake?” Jeonghan leans closer and whispers into your ear while the cake is being distributed around, his own piece waiting for him, the imprint of his fingers on full display. He sounds a little worried, so you squeeze his hand and give him a smile.
“I was worried for some reason, but it’s not like I thought you’d do it,” you admit and watch him sigh in relief before he pouts.
“Mingyu betted the guys that I would last week,” he whines to you, shooting the man in question a quick glare, “Sometimes I think he hates me.”
“He doesn’t, I think he was just upset about your prank back then,” you reassure him.
“How did you know I pranked him?” Jeonghan gasps, making you roll your eyes.
“I think I know my husband well enough to know,” you shrug. He pauses for a second before he bites his lips and grins. “What now?”
“You called me your husband,” he chuckles, “I like it. Call me that from now on.”
“I think I have no choice,” you laugh, giddiness slowly bubbling all through your body. 
Your husband. 
You’re not sure who makes the first move, who pulls the other into another short kiss, but you know it feels sweet like the cake.
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s-4pphics · 10 months
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click! 2 (e.w.)
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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 
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“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. 
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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. 
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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?” 
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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. 
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“… 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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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
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misslovasstuff · 8 months
Text
“Confession”
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Summary: Sanji tries to confess your love to you... many times. pairing: Sanji x fem!reader genre: romance with a small hint of comedy. author's note: for some reason, I think canon Sanji is someone who is quite oblivious when it comes to women who ACTUALLY like him. Like bro notices when men adore him but can't tell a girl has the hots for him?? Anyways, out of frustration I wrote this but just roles reversed. Enjoy, hehe
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His tenderness and kindness drops like honey from his fingertips, this is quite evident when he carefully strokes your skin with the back of his hand, gently brushing off your hair when your head rests on his lap, his lips touch your shut-closed eyes, reciting you poetry about them every morning and every evening.
Oh, how he admires and yet envies the light of the sun landing on your skin, the cool breeze that gets to caress your hair and the blessed land you walk upon where flowers seem to bloom with each one of your steps.
How can a man express a love so grand? What words could Sanji ever use to depict his own feelings, or to come even close to explaining them? Among all of these questions, there is a specific one that has grown roots on his head for a while now:
How do I confess?
Imagine the agony of seeing the person you love every day, emotions building up inside of you so much so that even a glance of them towards your direction shakes your whole soul. Ok, now that you have imagined what it feels like, multiply that feeling with x100; that’s what a hopeless romantic such as Sanji has endured ever since the day he fell for you (but that’s a story for another time). Now, let me introduce to you 3 attempts Sanji tried to confess his love:
1. A pretty flower for an even prettier flower
It’s Spring, around 4 months ago. You are rotting in the girl’s dorm, still recovering from some heavy injured back you had to deal with after a tough fight. There are sounds of laughter outside, so loud that you could hardly listen to the sound of waves or anything like that. From what you could hear, you had reached an island which seemed to make the crew enthusiastic for some reason you could not really tell from the darkness and loneliness of your surroundings.
“Damn it, I can’t even stand up on my own” - you try to lift yourself up but quickly surrender due to the immense pain in your back. A loud sigh escapes your mouth as you cover your face with a hand, rubbing your temple and holding yourself back from shedding any tears that could reflect that your need to be useful is now under attack, and you feel more useless than ever.
“Can I come in?” - a knock or two are heard at the door. You’re caught completely off guard but yet manage to blur out with a cracked voice: “Please do.”
Goodness, you had to cover your eyes from the light that shone through the room when the door opened, almost blinding you. Thus, you can’t really tell who just came in but a feeling of some sort was telling you that it was alright, that it was safe.
“We landed on a new island. - the voice approaches and comes closer, becoming clearer. - It’s quite beautiful.”
A touch of your hand makes you immediately realise that it was Sanji who is now sat beside you, caressing your hand. Your vision gets back to normal and you gaze happily at the blond chef. He looked so pretty: a nice pink shirt with a flower pattern, shorts and sunglasses he’s wearing.
“Why aren’t you exploring then?” - you ask, caressing his hand back.
“Oh, I did my exploring. It’s just that all that beauty that I saw…- Sanji reveals his hand hidden behind his back. There was a bouquet of flowers he was holding, landing them to you. Goodness, the way your eyes sparkled in joy caught Sanji off guard. His gaze softens. - …all that beauty that I saw reminded me of you.”
You take the flowers and sniff them, the aroma captivating your senses as your dopamine reaches high levels that were not reached for months.
“Thank you, Sanji. This… - you gaze lovingly at the flowers and then at him. - …this means a lot.”
“Don’t thank me. I’d do anything for you.” - he grabs your chin and pinches it gently, giving you a reassuring smile.
“Actually, I came to see you because I wanted to-
“You wanted to make sure I was fine, right? Don’t worry, I do feel better now. Promise!” - you interrupt him, thinking that he was still worrying himself over your condition. However, the expression on his face made you doubt that that was the real reason he came.
“Oh, is it because you want to ask me what I want for dinner?”- you try again, trying to guess the reason of his visit, which he did often.
“Uhm right, I did want to ask you that…” - Sanji smiles awkwardly as he strokes the back of his neck. Guess he couldn’t really say what he wanted now, instead he just smiles and listens to your wishes regarding dinner.
“How about we have dinner together, just the two of us, when you get better of course?” - he suggests and you widen your eyes.
Just the two of you? Why is he asking that? For some reason that gave you a weird feeling in your stomach, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“Well, it would be my pleasure, chef.” - you tease, pinching his nose jokingly as the cook gives a blushing smile.
2. What’s mine is yours
The dinner table was decorated beautifully by Sanji, the colors, the texture of the fabrics and all the details up to the crystal clear utensils would make every woman in the world happy. He is now sat patiently, waiting for you to come down and dine with him.
Once you go out the door you notice the setting your favourite cook has done for you. With a quick glance you fasten your step to go down the stairs, giving a small cough to make him notice you.
How foolish, you think he didn’t notice you?
Sanji saw you from afar, and that man is already weak in the knees from seeing you all dressed up with a chic black dress, a nice golden necklace resting on your neck, complemented gracefully with your long dark flocks falling off your bare shoulders.
“You came.” - Sanji reaches for you hand, kissing the back of it whilst looking deep into your eyes.
“For you, always.” - a wink at him before you go and sit down makes the blond crazily happy. He immediately pulls the chair back for you and rushes to serving some delicious hot meals.
“I love that we are doing this outside.” - you claim, finally feeling a bit of fresh air coming in your lungs.
“I thought you would. - Sanji lights up a candle placed in the middle of the table. - I know you’re a romantic at heart as well.”
You chuckle, not disagreeing with his statement.
“Thank you for the food.” - you say and start digging in. Ah, he never fails when it comes to cooking. You could live 109 more lives and never get to try Sanji’s food anywhere else.
“Perfect.” - you whisper, letting out a small moan from the satisfying taste. Little do you know that even such small details never go unnoticed by Sanji. He keeps staring at you, your dress, hair, your eyes that sparkle with light every time you look at him.
“Here, try some of this.” - Sanji picks up with his chopsticks a piece from his plate and offers it to you.
Of course you want to try it so you open your mouth and eat it, closing your eyes shut for a bit.
“Ahhh, Sanji it’s just so good!” - you exclaim, grabbing the table cloth.
Alright, you might be someone who overacts at times but now come on! look what you’re doing to the poor guy. You moan his name in a sentence like that and expect him to remain his full composure?
Bro had to keep it in him not to tell you that he fucks as good as he cooks for the hundredth time.
These thoughts are quickly shaken off when he notices your body trembling a bit. He immediately gets up, strips his jacket off.
Now, you’re caught off guard. His sleeves are rolled up and his forearms give a nice impression of a good physique. Moreover, his visible biceps and wide shoulders... Did he always have a waist that small?
“Here, I’d rather die that let you catch a cold.” - his sentence interrupts a train of not so holy thoughts for which you were confused of where they came from.
You shake your head and say a small ‘thank you’ to Sanji before going back to eating. However, now his cologne is evident, coming from the jacket placed on your shoulders. Alluring and strong, just like him.
“Are you listening?” - he asks and you widen your eyes, asking him a very polite ‘sorry, what?’
“Never mind. Nothing important.” - there it is again, that awkward smile. What is it that he has to say but doesn’t tell me?
The rest of the dinner goes fairly well. Around midnight you both find yourself and the doorstep of the girl’s dorm.
“Thank you for joining me.” - he kisses your hand, caressing it with his thumb, not letting go just yet.
“Thank you for having me, Sanji.” - you smile, a weird rush of adrenaline conquering your body. Not understanding what it really is, you rush inside and wave a final ‘bye’ to the cook, closing the door behind you. Who knows what would have happened if you kept your hand in his for any longer; his warmth and the comfort he radiates with only the touch of his hands made you think how good he would f- NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE!
3. The horizon knows about us
It’s a lonely sunset - that’s how you call it when there is no one to share the view with. Nevertheless, it does not stop you from admiring it, eyes filling with light coming from a colorful sky that resembles a drunk painting.
The admirer has an admirer which is watching from behind, slowly approaching.
“I thought you didn’t like lonely sunsets?” - Sanji approaches, taking his hands off his pockets and resting his arms on the wooden plateau.
“Well, - you smile, tilting your head towards him. - we have to stop and appreciate what burns for us, and the sun has been burning for way too long.”
You say those words and Sanji is fully immersed, captivated, staring at your profile like he would keep burning if it means his eyes would get the blessing of seeing you everyday, his light would keep shining on you, setting himself a blaze to let you be warm, always.
“You know, I'm sure it's a pleasure for the sun to burn for you. - he takes a deep breath before continuing, mastering the courage to look at you in the eyes. - And just like it, I too have been burning for a while.”
Your eyes widen at his statement, face immediately turning to him.
“Why so?” - your voice comes out so soft and caring that Sanji’s lip trembles.
“There are words I want to say, feelings I want to express, verses of my own that I want to recite that are stuck on my throat, making me unable to breath, suffocating me.” - Sanji starts explaining, grabbing your hands together and resting them on his chest.
“It’s all in here. - he says. - please tell me that you feel it too.”
You have stopped blinking for a while now, trying to take in as much as possible from the situation. The sun keeps setting as so do your feelings. They become more evident, a sudden epiphany hitting the depths of your very soul. Your heart recognizes, understands what Sanji is talking about cause you feel it, you have felt it many times.
“Sanji… - you call his name, tightening the grip on his hands. - I’m listening this time. More than ever I’m not only listening to you but also to my own heart. - you gulp hard, approaching him closer. - I need you to tell me first.”
Sanji smiles, putting your hands in front of his lips, hiding the blush of his cheeks whilst not breaking eye contact.
“I confess to you, the sun and the horizon that I have inevitably fallen in love with you.” - his voice does not tremble, nor does his body shake. However, both of your hearts are going crazy as the heat between you becomes more and more evident. After an intense prolonged eye contact, you cup his cheek, glancing at the sky for a second whilst noticing the darkness setting in, a darkness that you do not loath anymore.
“Let me then confess to you, the moon and the stars that I have fallen in love with you too.” - you smile cheekily, making Sanji mirror your genuine smile, this time not awkwardly but wholeheartedly, as he grabs your waist swiftly, bringing you close to his embrace.
The sun is completely set and the sky has fully darkened. There is now the moon who watches over along with the little stars that dance happily over lovers. No matter what time, the horizon had witnessed two lovers uniting, giving them all the colors that it could present for such a memorable moment.
Thus, it did take him a while, but now Sanji and you have found peace in each other, a comfort that only love can provide. And a fairytale have you become for people who gather the courage to express what lies deep inside them, taming the fire so that it could warm your lover but never burn you.
622 notes · View notes
fanficlolsblog · 9 days
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THE CO-STAR PART 2
pairing: actress!reader x jenna ortega
summary: the day after a tense kiss scene, Y/N and jenna ortega face awkwardness on set. jenna's avoidance creates discomfort, but a heartfelt conversation helps clarify the situation. jenna reveals she's dealing with personal issues, easing the tension and allowing them to start rebuilding their professional rapport.
warnings: personal and professional tension, emotion discomfort and awkwardness, strained relationships and personal issues which are not implied.
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part 1
The second day of filming after that infamous kiss scene was a tightrope walk between professionalism and personal tension. I arrived at the set, my stomach a knot of nerves, hoping the awkwardness from yesterday would fade into a distant memory. Instead, the atmosphere was thicker with discomfort than I'd anticipated.
Jenna had been distant since that intense scene. While we managed to exchange polite nods and forced smiles, every interaction felt strained, like an unspoken barrier had been erected between us. I caught her glancing my way occasionally, but whenever our eyes met, she quickly looked away, as if afraid to reveal whatever thoughts were tumbling through her head.
The day began with a quick wardrobe check. I tried to ignore the prickle of tension as Jenna walked in, her movements precise and focused. I offered a friendly “Good morning,” but she responded with a curt nod, her eyes already focused on the script in her hands. I followed suit, trying to bury my anxiety in the lines and stage directions.
Our first scene of the day was an emotionally charged dialogue. As Jenna and I took our positions, I couldn’t help but notice how she maintained a physical distance, avoiding any inadvertent touches or brushes of our shoulders. It was odd, given that we had shared such an intimate scene yesterday, and now even the smallest gesture seemed to be scrutinized.
The scene played out with an almost mechanical efficiency, the rawness of yesterday replaced by a clinical detachment. After the director called “cut,” I tried to make small talk, hoping to bridge the gap that had formed. “That was good, right?” I asked, offering a half-hearted smile.
Jenna’s response was a brief, “Yeah. It was fine.” She didn’t elaborate, and the silence that followed felt heavier than the lines we had just delivered. I wanted to ask her if everything was okay, but the look she gave me—half guarded, half apprehensive—made me hesitate.
Later, during a break, I watched as Jenna mingled with the rest of the cast and crew. She seemed engaged and animated with them, but when it came to me, she was avoidant. I understood, of course, that the kiss scene had been charged, but I didn’t expect the fallout to be so personal.
As the day wore on, I found myself increasingly disheartened. Jenna’s avoidance left me feeling exposed and uncertain, wondering if I had somehow crossed a line or made a mistake. The directors and crew members went about their work with the usual efficiency, but I was preoccupied with Jenna’s discomfort and my own lingering embarrassment.
During one particularly long stretch of waiting, I sat alone in the green room, trying to focus on my lines. Jenna walked in, and for a moment, our eyes met. I saw a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—before she turned her gaze away and took a seat on the opposite side of the room.
I took a deep breath and decided to approach her. It was a risk, but I needed to clear the air. “Jenna, can we talk for a minute?” I asked softly.
She looked up, her expression a mixture of surprise and wariness. “Sure,” she replied quietly.
I sat down across from her, the distance between us palpable. “I know things have been a bit tense since yesterday, and I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay. I mean, if I did something—”
“No, it’s not you,” Jenna interrupted, her voice steady but tinged with fatigue. “It’s just... I’ve been dealing with some stuff on my own. It’s been hard to separate personal feelings from work lately.”
I nodded, trying to process her words. “I get that. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Our scenes are really important to me, and I want them to be as authentic as possible.”
Jenna looked relieved, though still uncertain. “I appreciate that. I do. It’s just been... a lot. I’ll try to do better. It’s not about you.”
We shared a tentative smile, the unspoken understanding bringing a measure of relief. It wasn’t a complete resolution, but it was a start. As we returned to our respective places on set, the atmosphere felt a little lighter. We still had a long way to go, but acknowledging the tension was the first step towards mending our strained relationship.
As the day progressed, Jenna and I managed to find a new rhythm. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress. The scenes felt less mechanical and more genuine, and I clung to that as a sign that we might, with time, navigate this awkward period and find our way back to a more comfortable place. Even be somewhat friends…
215 notes · View notes
venuszn · 9 months
Text
☆ : Open When
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Summary / In which Bada writes you letters to read whenever you miss her presence
Cw / Angst, Fluff, Smut, Dom!Bada, Fem!Reader, Phone sex, ummm probably missed some, MDNI
Wc / 5.3K words
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Open when you’re sad
“Hi princess,
I’m sorry that you’re feeling this way right now and that I'm not there to hold you and tell you that everything will be okay. But I can and will tell you that with the words in this letter. You know that I love you and I will keep saying it till the words dry up my throat.
I wish nothing but happiness for you but I’m also aware that bad days are inevitable and that sadness is a human emotion, which like happiness, you should be allowed to feel in all its entirety. I know it's hard right now, but allow yourself to feel sad. You’re allowed to cry, you're allowed to scream and maybe even throw something (like a pillow or teddy - don't hurt yourself). You’re feeling down and that's ok, you’re human.
I know I always say that you're perfect (to me you are, you’re literally heaven sent you’re my angel) but to the rest of the cruel world perfection isn’t possible and so you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. I like to remind myself that sadness is an emotion. Its power is not absolute. It will come and it will go making room for other emotions such as relief, happiness, hope . . .
There will always be hope.
You are strong and you can take back control of your emotions. But allow yourself to feel them first, it doesn’t make you weak. It takes a lot of courage to face the raw and uncomfy feelings we have and I know you can do it. Go at your own pace and remember that your feelings are valid and that you are loved.
Especially by me, your loving and maybe a little bit obsessed girlfriend.
Lots of love,
Bada.”
A tear dropped onto the paper. You blinked and quickly wiped your eyes, not realising that your girlfriend's heartfelt expressions had triggered an earthquake of emotions within you. Bada knew that you had a tendency to repress your emotions. She knew that when you were sad you skillfully put on a facade, a mask, and played the ideal role of the happy easy going girlfriend. You didn't want to burden anyone with how you felt. You were used to dealing with it alone and so you always did.
But Bada showed you that it was ok to not always be ok. That you didn’t have to bear it all alone. You weren’t perfect, some days you fell back into old habits and distanced yourself from her as the exhaustion from faking happiness would overwhelm you. But she was always patient and waited for you.
She showed you that you could still be loved even on your bad days.
Sobs thundered in your chest. You gripped the letter as if the words themselves would slip between the cracks of your fingers and drift away into the night. Your face grew hot with tears and you allowed yourself to be. To simply be.
Bada wasn’t here with you right now but you knew her love was.
Open when you miss me
Gentle rays of sun shine through your curtains. It illuminates your skin as it kisses it with its warmth. You sit up and raise a tired hand, attempting to shield your eyes as a loud and unflattering yawn rolls from the back of your mouth. Your hazy eyes drift towards the empty space beside you. If you stare long enough you can still see the outline of her presence, hear the whispers of her slow words thick with sleep as she would pull you closer by the waist and join her lips to yours - the sweetest of good mornings.
But now those mornings were not a reality but a memory.
Mornings like this weren’t foreign to you. It had been a couple months now and you had grown used to waking up alone. You missed Bada and this was the first time you were both spending months apart from each other. You were caught between sadness and pride. Of course you were sad but at the same time you couldn’t help but admire the achievements of your girlfriend. Bada’s popularity had skyrocketed beyond the heavens themselves and many artists and idols were reaching out to her for collaborations and such alike. You had never seen Bada glow the way she did. Joy seemed to radiate from her and your chest could barely contain the swell of your heart as it pumped in pride for her.
That is why you smiled and swallowed the lump in your throat as Bada said she was leaving behind her favourite sweatshirt, “because I know it’s your favourite too”. It is why you insisted on driving Bada to the airport and it is why the both of you held each other a little tighter that day and allowed your lips to linger a second more. Bada knew you were trying to be brave for her but that wasn’t what she wanted.
“I’ll see you real soon. Four months will fly by.” Bada said as she gently rubbed your cheek with her thumb.
“I know it will. Have the best time won’t you ? I mean, you’re touring with an idol. That's amazing.” Your voice betrayed you as a slight quiver slipped through.
Bada’s gaze saddened. “I’ll try. You know I'll miss you right ?”
A sob threatened to rise from your throat and you tried to swallow it once more.
“I’ll miss - I’ll miss you more . . .” You choked out.
Bada wrapped her arms around you and brought you to her chest, your arms locked around her sides and you swore you would need to be pried away from her. Her head rested comfortably on top of yours and she squeezed you gently.
“I’ve left you something.”
You pull back and look up at her, confusion knitted your brows. “What do you mean you’ve left me something ?”
“It’s under the bed in a shoebox. And no, it's not shoes.” She smiled down at you.
When you got back to your shared apartment you searched under the bed and immediately found the shoebox. You scoff lightly with a small smile, not believing that you didn’t notice it earlier.
You remove the top and your breath catches in your throat.
A library of letters sat in two neat rows, filling the four walls of the box. You gently run your fingers over the edge of them, sneaking glimpses of the words written on the envelopes.
‘Open when you’re sad.’
‘Open when you need reassurance.’
‘Open when you want to punch your annoying coworker.’
You choke out a laugh mixed sob and tears threaten to spill. You wondered how you got so lucky to have someone like Bada in your life.
The morning sun had shifted slightly, its rays now painted your room walls a warm golden. Bada’s words stared back at you on the envelope as you traced the curves of her letters with your finger, following the path of ink as it journeyed into words.
‘Open when you miss me.’
And so you did.
“Hello my princess,
I miss you too. Very much. I know you’ll see me on social media smiling and dancing but just know that I'm always thinking of you. I wish I could be there with you right now, to hold you and kiss you. I’m writing this before I leave but I just know that I’ll miss your kisses. Of course I will. Kissing you feels like home and I’ll miss my home. Even now as I’m writing this I’m wishing that I was kissing you. But they say absence makes the heart grow fonder. My heart will probably explode from the overflow of fondness. However, I want to apologise in advance for how busy I might get. But I promise I will do my best to talk to you. I have no idea what to expect but I imagine there will be days where our communication is sparse. But always remember that I still love you and miss you.
Please take care of your health, make sure to eat your meals and go to sleep on time. I need you to be happy and healthy when I get back.
I love you and I am counting down the days till I see my baby again.
Lots of Love,
Bada.”
Open when you’re happy
The chime of the doorbell danced through the air and you perked up.
Your lips stretched into a smile as you bounced toward the front door, almost running. You were expecting this as it had become a weekly routine and truthfully, you were near enough befriending the delivery man who you were now seeing more frequently than some of your friends.
You swiftly swing open the door and your eager eyes meet the familiar smile of the old man but you couldn’t stop your gaze from jumping to the brightly coloured item that sat in his arms.
“Good afternoon to you.” He greeted warmly.
You smiled and returned his warmth, “Good afternoon to you too.”
He chuckled and outstretched the item toward you and you took it from his hold.
“Today's flowers are pink asters.” The man said with enthusiasm.
“They represent love and sensitivity. They're also the emblem of Venus - the goddess of love. Your girlfriend is putting all of us to shame.” The man chuckles and you watch as his crows feet deepen. You remember the way he praised Bada, saying that he has never seen such heartfelt dedication from a person.
Bada had scheduled flower deliveries each Monday because she knew that you loved flowers and also because she knew that you loathed Mondays - the man was slightly speechless. He called it young love and made a comment about how some people go through their entire lives unable to find love and that if you find it with someone - anyone - then that's a blessing you should cherish.
And you truly did. You now sit in front of the vase of flowers and you admire its beauty. If the stars themselves fell to the earth and sprouted seed this is what the result would be - vibrant hues and an explosion of petals. They were truly beautiful and your heart pulsed with love for Bada. She was your happiness.
Your gaze shifted back to the opened letter on the side and you read it once more.
“Hi baby :) Happiness looks beautiful on you.
You’re always beautiful but I love the way you gleam and radiate when you’re happy. I especially love your smile. I feel like everytime you smile a fairy is born. I hope to one day meet one of your many fairies.
But I digress, I’m happy that you’re happy. I wish I could see you and be happy right there with you. But feel free to send me pictures of your smile (many of them) and tell me in detail about what made you happy ! You know I'd love to hear all about it. I hope you continue smiling and I know that there are more happy days ahead for you. There definitely will be - you are an attractor of everything pure and joyful (and of me).
I love you lots my angel,
Bada.”
Open when you’re in the mood
You remember when you first saw those words on the envelope. You remember scoffing at your girlfriend, not taking it seriously. She was oceans apart from you, there’s not really much that she could do when you were feeling needy and missing her touches.
You thought wrong.
You also remember the way your brows twitched in curiosity and how you felt a subtle rise of intrigue within you at the two words written on the paper.
“Ring me.”
Though you never thought that you would find yourself in this position. The position being your legs spread apart, your two fingers stretching out your dripping cunt and Bada - on speaker phone listening to the entire thing.
“Keep touching yourself for me, princess.” Bada breathed through the phone. She had been instructing you on what to do, how fast and how slow, ordering you to not hold back your moans because she ‘wants to hear your pretty sounds’.
“Add a third finger.”
You’re not sure if its because of her words or because of how fucked out you were but you nearly come right then. You let out a shaky breath and slide your free hand down in between your legs, you spread yourself a little more, giving your third finger room to enter. The dull sting mixes with the sensitivity and pleasure and you hesitate.
“It only feels good when you do it.” You whine as you slowly push further, your tight hole sucking your fingers in.
“Imagine that those are my fingers. You like it when I finger fuck you, don’t you ? The way you cry out my name and grip onto me as I pound your hole.”
You grew wetter at Bada’s words.
Your fingers slide in and you begin thrusting in and out. A thin layer of sweat glistened your skin as you lay half naked on the bed with your eyes fluttering up at the ceiling. You did as Bada said. You shut your eyes and imagined that your girlfriend was there - above you with her slender fingers stroking your pussy walls. You imagined her kissing the side of your neck as she usually did, and then slowly making her way down to your chest. You imagined her taking your hardened nipple into her warm mouth, her tongue sliding against it as she licked and tasted your tits. Her free hand would then join, playing with your other mound of flesh as her mouth busied itself with the other. She would start off by teasing your nipple by ghosting over it with her thumb. She would then gently tug at it before rolling it between her fingers. You imagined her hushed words, saying something about how beautiful you were and about how good you were being for her before she would mercilessly thrust her three fingers into your cunt, her thumb teasingly brushing over your swollen clit ever so often.
The tightening of the knot in your stomach pulls you out of your fantasy and a loud moan falls from your lips. Your breaths pick up speed and a chorus of whines and whimpers flow from you as you begin to chase your climax. Your back arches and your fingers move faster, curling up as they rub against the top of your walls.
“Fuck - Fuck, Bada.” You cry out as you feel your legs begin to shake.
Bada lets out a breathless curse and you hear shuffling in the background and then a door shut.
“You coming, princess ? I wanna hear you moan my name.”
You nod your head, forgetting that she can't see you, coherent words fail to leave your mouth. Your body tenses and your walls contract around your fingers. Pleasure rushes through you and for a moment you swear you see stars. Your body trembles and your legs shake as cries and moans for your girlfriend fall from your tongue.
“You’re so hot. Fuck. I wanna see you, princess.” Bada says, voice dripping with want.
You lay breathless, fingers still nested in your aching hole as you slowly guide yourself down from your high with slow thrusts. “But you’re not - you're not in your hotel room.” You breathe out.
“I’m farther away from everyone now.” Bada said as she reassured you. “ I’m in an empty room. It's okay baby . . . Plus, this makes it hotter.”
You let out a light breathy laugh, “You’re such an exhibitionist.”
Bada chuckles, “So are you. Now let me see you, princess.”
You reach for your phone and accept the video call request. Bada emerges onto your screen and your heart flutters. You smile and bite your lip slightly. She was wearing her glasses and you had always had a thing for her in her specs. You gazed at her and the lazy smirk that sat on her pink lips.
“Hi baby.”
“Hey princess.”
Your cheeks grew warm and you looked away for a moment.
“Now don’t get shy on me. We’re just getting started.” Bada says with a slight raise of her brow.
“Prop your phone up against something. I wanna see you properly.”
You obeyed and you positioned your phone on top of the bedside table, angling it toward you as you sat with your knees together on the bed.
Bada drank in the sight of you, she licked her lips and you saw her gaze deepen.
“Fuck, you’re wearing my shirt. You fingered yourself in my clothes ?” Bada said as she leaned into the camera slightly. “You’re so dirty aren't you princess, such a slut for me.”
You nod and fiddle with your fingers in your lap. Your body burned with both desire and slight humiliation.
“Go and get my strap.”
Your breath caught and your eyes widened. “What ?” You say, unsure of if you were now experiencing auditory hallucinations.
“I want you to fuck yourself with my strap. Go get it.” Bada stated coolly.
You now found yourself in another position. That position being your legs spread apart, once again, but now with Bada’s thick strap rubbing against your pussy lips, your wetness coating its length. And Bada sat watching through the camera as she once again instructed you on how she wanted you to touch yourself.
Bada stared at you hungrily with pupils blown.
“Keep rubbing your clit with it. Just like that princess. Don’t stop until you’re dripping and desperate, just how I like you.”
Your mouth hung open as you sang soft moans. You guided Bada’s strap against your clit, now swollen, as you rubbed yourself along the length of it in desperate motions.
“Bada - Bada, fuck.” You whine. “I’m close - gonna come . . .”
Bada’s smirk stretches. “Stop.”
Your eyes snap to the screen and you blink furiously. “Pleas-”
“I said stop, princess. Be a good girl for me, hm ?”
You reluctantly come to a stop, your hips slow its pace and you remove the strap from in between your legs.
“As much as I love seeing you touch yourself in my clothes, I want to see your pretty tits. Take your shirt off.”
You do as she says and pull the shirt over your head, your chest now on full display to Bada’s eager eyes.
Bada lets out a breathless curse as her eyes roam your body. “You’re heavenly.”
Your heart flutters at your girlfriend's words.
“Now spread your legs for me and fuck yourself with my strap.”
You moved closer to the camera and positioned yourself in front of Bada’s waiting gaze. You leaned back on one arm and parted your legs, your aching cunt now on show. You guided her strap along your pussy lips coating it with your juices. You hum slightly and a whimper leaves your lips as you gently push in the tip of the strap.
Your eyes flicker back to the screen and you swear you've never seen Bada’s gaze as intense as it was.
“Just like that. Stretch yourself out good for me.”
You sink onto Bada’s strap and your cunt clenches around it. You begin slow motions of gentle thrusting and then throw your head back as you feel the tip hit a particular spot within you walls - cries falling from your lips.
“Fuck. I wish I was there, baby. Gonna fuck you into the mattress when I get back.”
And you knew that was a promise she intended to keep.
Open when we fight
It had been nearly a week since your last proper conversation with Bada. You were both busy and had been adjusting to the constant changes of time zone differences. It was becoming a little draining for the both of you but the daily little check ups and good morning and night messages cushioned the pain. It was the little things that kept you going all this time but you were beginning to crave a little more attention from your girlfriend.
Bada, on the other hand, was becoming stressed. Rehearsals were tough and the jetlag exhausted her. Simultaneously, Bada was also worried about you. She was aware that the communication between the both of you had dwindled recently and she knew you did your best to work with her schedule but she also knew that deep down you were hurting because of it. Bada was beginning to feel inadequate and she carried the blame.
That is why she regretted it as intensely as she did when those harsh words flew from her mouth that one evening.
“You’re suffocating me. You know how busy I am and honestly right now I need some space.”
Bada’s words were like ice to your ears and you felt the frost of her tone bite and sting you. You shivered, slightly taken aback by her words.
“Oh . . . Okay then. No worries, see you.”
You hang up the phone.
You stared into space for a moment. Numbness spreading over you as you swallow your sorrow.
Your phone vibrates and you force your heavy eyes to look over to it. You see Bada’s contact flash on your screen. You scoff and deny the call before putting your phone on do not disturb.
The moon peers at you through your window and you only hope that she’s gazing at you with empathy. She too was worlds apart from her lover, unable to meet. Tears brim in your eyes and you blink them away.
The sun rises and you soon follow. You turn on your phone and then turn off do not disturb only to find countless missed calls and messages from Bada pleading for your forgiveness. Your heart pangs and you decide to respond.
“I just woke up. Went to bed early last night.” You type and hit send before tossing your phone onto the bed.
You were still a little sad. You felt dejected and you felt unwanted. Perhaps you were a little pushy, but all you wanted was to speak to your girlfriend. You sigh as you stare into the mirror at your deflated reflection. A small box under your bed then catches your attention and you find yourself kneeling to pick it up.
Bada’s letters.
You had gone though nearly half of them by now but you had yet to open this particular one.
“I’m sorry.
I don’t know what we fought about but that doesn’t matter because I apologise for making you upset. I would never intentionally hurt you but sometimes I can be a dummy and I make mistakes. So I'm sorry baby. I hate seeing you upset or angry and especially if I'm the cause. I want to thank you for still staying with me all this time regardless. Everyday I'm still learning and growing and everyday I'm thankful that I get to do that by your side. We are two imperfect people but we make a perfect pair if you ask me. I know sometimes you also make mistakes but I forgive you. I will always forgive you. When we fight we showcase our room for growth as a couple and as individuals. We disagree sometimes but that is normal. There’s nothing wrong with you and nothing wrong with us. I still love you baby. I always will.
Lots of love,
Bada.”
Just as you finish reading your phone vibrates and you look to see Bada's name on the screen.
“Good morning baby. I’m sorry about last night. You’re not suffocating. I'm just really stressed right now but I promise it’s not because of you. It will never be you.” Her message read.
Your lips pouted slightly and you typed back, “I'm sorry too. I know I can be extra clingy sometimes. But please don’t feel pressured to always respond. Take out time for yourself too, it’s okay. I’ll always be here.”
On the other end Bada let out a small breath of relief and finally allowed her body to relax. She read over your words and her heart yearned for you.
Another message pings through and Bada breaks out in the first genuine smile that week.
“Btw your letter was cute. I’ll always love you too.”
Open when it’s our anniversary
The chime of the doorbell rang through the apartment and your brows twitched in puzzlement. You double checked the day - it wasn’t a Monday - so weren't expecting any deliveries. You also were not expecting any visitors. Regardless, you make your way over to open the door.
Before you stood none other than the delivery man. Who boasted the widest of grins as he held out a wonderful arrangement of flowers toward you.
You stand, mouth slightly agape as you take in the beauty of the blossoms before you. The sweet aromas danced through the air.
Today was your anniversary with Bada and you had both planned to video call later that night. You knew Bada was busy and that she was gearing up for the finale of the tour later that week, so you were grateful that she cleared out a few hours of her schedule to spend with you. But you had not expected anything like this.
“Your girlfriend really outdid herself with this one.” He chuckled as you took the bouquet into your arms, its sheer size competed with the top half of your body. You poke your head around the bouquet and you smile back. “It’s our anniversary. I had no idea she scheduled flowers for today - and flowers this big. I’m so sorry you had to carry this.” You say with a meek laugh.
“Nonsense. It's my pleasure.” The old man waves his hand, swatting away your words. “You have grown to become me and my wife's favourite customers - both you and your girlfriend. We’re honoured that she chose our small flower store and made all those orders. So please, it’s not a problem my dear. I hope to see you both around sometime and feel free to stop by, my wife would love to meet the lovely lady that she picks flowers for.”
Your heart warms and you nod your head, “Of course. I’d love to stop by. But I'll see you on Monday won’t I ?”
The man shakes his head, “This is my last delivery dear.”
You frown slightly and you feel your mood dampen. “But why ?”
“Because I’m back.”
That voice.
You step out into the hallway and your head spins to the direction it came from.
Bada Lee.
Bada walked toward you. Your eyes scanned her tall frame, her oversized shirt that draped around her body, her grey baggy sweatpants that hung from her hips and her wide and comforting smile that plastered her face.
That was your girlfriend. And she was home.
You ran towards her and she met you halfway, scooping you and the large bouquet into her arms before spinning you around. You laugh and you cry. Trails of tears fall as happiness overtakes you.
“You’re back ?!” You exclaim as you hastily wipe your face.
Bada gazes down at you with the fondest of eyes. “For now, yes. Happy anniversary baby.”
She leans down to gently press her lips to yours.
The old man chuckles in delight, “Congratulations to the both of you. I expect to see you both at my shop very soon.”
You and Bada grin and you wish him well after agreeing to pay him and his wife a visit.
Your head remains in a daze and you squint your eyes at Bada, unsure of if you were now experiencing visual hallucinations.
Bada laughs as she puts down her suitcase, “What ?”
You fold your arms, “You’re really here ?”
“I am.”
“You said next week.”
“I might have told a little white lie . . .”
You whine and gently smack her arm causing her to laugh even more.
“And all those flowers you’ve been sending . . . and the letters ?” You pout slightly. “I don’t deserve you.”
Bada steps closer and takes your chin between her thumb and index. “You deserve everything and more. There was no way I wasn’t going to see you on our two year anniversary. I planned to be here from the very start.”
You look up at her and you hold her gaze. “You did ?”
Bada hums. “I did. However, I'll be catching a flight back tomorrow but by the end of the week I'll be home for good.”
You nod your head in understanding and Bada smiles down at you before leaning in to bridge the gap between your lips. Your arms rest around her shoulders and hers on your waist, her grip firm as she gently caresses your skin with her thumb. You part your lips and tilt your head, Bada hums against your mouth before slipping her tongue through your lips - deepening the kiss.
Moments pass and you are forced to come up for air. Bada then rests her forehead against yours.
“You read today's letter yet ?” She mutters softly.
You gently shake your head, “Not yet. I was about to but then the doorbell rang.”
Bada smiled and took your hand into hers.
“Perfect.”
Bada now sat beside you on the bed with the letter in hand.
She began to read.
“To my princess, my baby, my best friend and to the love of my life,
Happy Second Anniversary <3
Happy 730 days of us and of our love. These 730 days are just the beginning because I know that we have a lifetime ahead of us. Thank you for staying with me, for being with me despite my shortcomings. Thank you for being my best friend, my confidant and thank you for loving me back.
You truly are an angel walking this earth and I sometimes wonder if heaven misses you. I’m prepared to put up a fight because now that I have you - not even Zeus himself could pry me away from you. Nothing on earth nor in the heavens above could taint the love that I have for you. Know that my heart belongs to you and that I am ready to cross whatever seas that may lie between us.
I’ll see you soon my love.
Bada.”
You were at a loss for words and watched as Bada neatly folded the letter and placed it back into its envelope. She then looked at you and gently took your hand intertwining your fingers.
“I love you so much.” You whisper, afraid that your voice would fail you.
“I love you more my princess.” Bada pulled you closer and then set you on her lap.
You gaze down at her and she peers up at you, her fingers ghost over your thigh, tracing lazy shapes over the fabric covering your skin. Sparks of electricity shoot through you and you lick your lips slightly. Bada’s gaze intensifies. Her hands now slowly creep up your shirt, your warm skin under her fingertips.
“I’ve missed you.” You breathe out, gravity pulling you in.
“I’ve missed you too.” Bada’s hands lingered as they explored the familiar territory that was your curves.
You shudder and your breath picks up.
“Wanna show me how much ?” You say softly.
Bada’s lips stretched into a slight smirk but her eyes overflowed with love.
“Of course baby. I’m gonna take my time with you . . . Missed you so much.”
Bada kept her promise and she took her time with you, exploring the work of art that she swore had no price.
Your body, your soul - you.
Author’s note / Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed <3 Feel free to send me requests of letters that you’d like to see Bada write . . . Totally down to do more of those :3
Tag list / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf , @wiselight , @nimxie , [Open]
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runningfrom2am · 9 months
Text
cold nights // part two
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summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.1k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: ahhh welcome sejanus i love him dearly
series masterlist // playlist
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It was only a few hours of making small talk with Capitol strangers before you caught a glimpse of the red uniform your new friend was wearing just this morning. For a moment, you did think it was him, that he was back, but the dark curly hair and eyes of another boy was what greeted you instead. He must be another mentor.
You watch as he walks up to the edge of the cage with a few bags, placing them down and opening one as he scans the group of you trapped in the cage. "Marcus!" He calls out, and your gaze falls on the District Two tribute. "I brought you something to eat, it's me, Sejanus. Do you remember?"
You furrow your brow at his desperate attempts to speak to Marcus. How could they have known each other? As far as you know, they had never met. You approach the boy slowly. He seems to have a good heart, to bring food for someone who you know he is meant to believe is less than.
"I can bring it to him, if you'd like." You offer quietly, holding out a hand from a little ways away. "We're all very tired. I'm sure he's still just recovering from the ride."
"That would be great." The boy, Sejanus, agrees, handing you the sandwich. "Thank you, Y/N."
"My pleasure." You smile, taking it and heading over to where Marcus is sitting on a rock, facing the opposite direction.
"Marcus?" You hum, crouching down in front of him.
"I'm not taking anything from him." He grumbles, hardly meeting your eye.
"Oh." You look back at Sejanus, who's watching you hopefully. "Do you know each other?"
"Not anymore."
"I see." You nod, thinking over how you could get him to eat. "Well, take it from me, then. I'll just take his kind gesture for myself, but I'll share it with you. Now," You rip the already cut sandwich in half. "It's from me. And I know you're hungry, so please. Have some of mine."
He looks down at the sandwich in your hand and sighs, taking it begrudgingly. "Thanks, Y/N."
"Anytime." You smile, gently patting him on the knee as you stand back up, giving Sejanus a grin and a small thumbs up.
He gestures for you to come back over to him, so you do, half the sandwich still in hand. "Thank you for doing that." He says once you're close enough to hear at a normal volume.
"Yes, of course. I'll give him the rest in a bit, I feel like he won't take it while you're still here." You smile sadly at him.
"No, I insist. You have it. I brought plenty of food for all of you."
"Oh, really?" You smile, looking down at the bags at his feet now. "That's so kind of you."
"I couldn't let you starve in here." He replies. "It's barbaric, and sick, and I am so, so sorry."
His emotional response catches you off guard. "Oh... Well, thank you. But know it was not your doing."
"I know it's not... but I wish there was more I could do."
"You're doing all you can, more than anyone expected of you." You reassure him. "Don't feel guilty."
Sejanus just nods, reaching for a bag and holding it open between the bars. "Would you mind..? I don't think they will trust me." He asks and you nod, turning to see who you could call to come eat. If one person comes, more will follow.
"Jessup." You smile hopefully at the boy from your District, waving him over. "Sejanus here has brought food to share, come eat."
"I'm not hungry." He mumbles as he gets closer to you, looking down into the bag anyway as you reach your hand in to grab him a sandwich.
"Please eat." You sigh. "If we eat the others will too. I don't want anyone hungry."
"We'll all be hungry." Jessup replies, taking the sandwich from your hand anyway. "It won't matter next week."
"Okay, well, for now, we're just living in the moment and enjoying this lovely food our new friend brought for us."
"My Ma made it all." He explains, and you tilt your head at him. There was something so distinctly District about how he referred to his mother, but was he not Capitol? After all, he was a mentor. He was wearing a matching red uniform.
"Will you tell her thank you for us?" You ask, taking the first bite out of the sandwich in your hand. "This is really good. We haven't eaten in days."
"She'll be happy to hear that. Yes, of course, I'll pass that on."
By the time any other tributes who wanted to eat had been fed, you were sitting down across the bars from Sejanus, chewing on your second helping shamelessly leaning over criss-crossed legs. "Do you know Coriolanus Snow?" You asked, covering your mouth as you spoke.
"Coryo?" Sejanus smiles. " I do. He's my best friend."
"Is he?" You smile, leaning forward. "He's my mentor. He seems kind."
Sejanus shrugs. "I would say he is, most of the time."
"And you call him Coryo?" You ask, head tilted at him. "Is that what his friends call him?"
"I guess so. Not everyone... Just his friends, yeah." Sejanus explains, neglecting to mention that by this definition, he and Coriolanus's cousin Tigris are his only real friends.
"I see. That's nice." You hum, looking down at the food in your hands. "How long have you been friends?"
"Since I moved here from Two." Oh, that makes sense. He and Marcus did know each other. "He was the only one who was nice to me, still is, honestly, but yeah, about ten years now."
"I have a similar story about him." You joke. "Of course, I've only known him for a few hours. And I guess now I have two friends here, if I can count you."
"Sure." Sejanus smiles, trying to hide the sadness behind it.
"I mean, don't feel like you have to agree. I know your loyalties lie elsewhere." You catch on to his hesitation, following his gaze over to Marcus. "Besides, I don't hold grudges. Even if I did, I won't be holding it for long now, would I?"
"It's not that." Sejanus quickly shakes his head. "I just... I am one of you. District, I mean. That will never change." He sighs, and you watch as he twists his fingers together nervously. "I'm so sorry that this is happening to you. I can't imagine how scared you must be and-"
"That it will never come again. That is what makes life so sweet." You cite, giving him a small smile. "There is nothing that you or I can change now, or then. I am just blessed it was me and not yet my brother. Change will come at the right time. If it's after me, it's after me; I will live forever."
Sejanus opens his mouth to speak, looking slightly dumbfounded before closing his jaw again tightly, giving you a curt nod.
"Don't pity him." You whisper, tucking your knees up to your chest on the cold ground and watching as his eyes fall back onto Marcus. "It will make it only worse."
You rest your chin on the skin of your knees. "I don't- it's not my fault and I know that." He replies.
"I know, Sejanus." You say, smiling in the face of his defensiveness. "Just... Don't let him think that. Which is easier said than done, I know."
"We're supposed to be mentoring you." He says after a moment, back to his normal self, from what you could tell. "Not the other way around."
"You're right. My apologies." You giggle. "Tell me then, how do I win?" You don't truly expect an answer; you don't expect you have any chance of winning. Not without the need enough to kill. It wouldn't be worth it, despite.
"My honest, best advice?" He asks rhetorically, looking around as he leans in to whisper to you. "Figure out a way to escape."
"Sejanus." You don't have the time to process the shock of his suggestion before your conversation is being interrupted by Coriolanus standing behind him, casting a shadow over the two of you. "What are you doing with my tribute?"
"Oh, uh..." Immediately Sejanus becomes shifty at Coriolanus's question. "I brought some food for everyone, and Y/N helped me distribute it. We were just talking."
"Welcome back, Coriolanus. You missed the sandwiches Sejanus brought." You grin, standing up and brushing off the bare backs of your legs.
"That's a shame. Would you come with me?" He asks, motioning for you to follow him along the bars and you nod.
"Thank you, Sejanus." You take a moment to honestly thank him, and he just nods before you follow Coriolanus who has already walked away.
"How was your day? I assume you went to school?" You ask, stopping just in front of him.
"It was... fine, thank you." He clears his throat. "Hard to focus."
"Oh?" You tilt your head as he digs through his bag. "What's bothering you?"
"Well, uh," He pauses, looking up from his bag to meet your eyes. "This mentorship thing is new, and very important, so there's just a lot on my mind."
"There's a prize." You state at the realization, smile fading slightly. You had been so excited that he was so kind to you that you failed to consider the likelihood of an incentive.
"There is." He confirms. "But, whether or not you win doesn't matter. I am here to help you do the best you can, and I do want you to win."
"Oh, I see." You reply hesitantly. Sejanus told you he is kind, so he must be. You have to force yourself to believe he's not just using you. But even if he is, what does it matter? If he's kind to you in your final days, out of honesty or personal gain, will the intentions even matter? You suppose not. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me." He quickly shakes his head. You had thanked the peacekeepers who had walked you to the stage, you had thanked the village of people who stood there while you said your final goodbyes and did nothing but listen in silence. No one responded. Coriolanus wouldn't be added to a list of people you thank for nothing.
"Sorry." You mumble, looking around behind you now.
"No, I-" He sighs, taking a breath as he rubs his forehead, pushing away his curls and making it easier for you to see his eyes. "I didn't mean that. I just mean... I haven't done anything for you. I want to help, but don't thank me until I have."
"You have." You answer honestly. "I didn't expect to meet anyone so kind... It helps a lot to just know I have one person who's not rooting against me."
"I would never." Coriolanus insists quickly, shaking his head. "I talked to the head gamemaker, she likes my ideas. That's why Sejanus and the others are here. People want to get to know you. It will help."
You're unsure of how that could help you in the arena, you had never seen it before; you tried to avoid watching or viewing anything to do with the games. It scared you. Petrified you, even, you weren't sure what you expected; but it wasn't that you would be able to get any help. You smile anyway, giving him a slight nod as you wrap your arms tightly around yourself. It's not too cold, but you feel exposed. Even the warm July air, when brushing over your uncovered skin could give you chills in these circumstances.
"You just have to talk to people who come to see you, be nice, like you're trying to make friends. We want to humanize you. I may be able to get people to send you gifts in the arena, food and water to keep you going if they like you."
"Okay." You answer quietly. "I've been talking to folks who come, not much else to do in here." You shrug, smiling at him hopefully. You don't want to sound like you're complaining, you're sure complaining about circumstances you can't change will get you nowhere. "The people seem lovely."
"Lovely." He scoffs, shaking his head with a grin of disbelief. "You don't have to lie to me, you know."
"I'm not!" You insist with a slight laugh, looking around. "They just... seem a little scared, for some reason. It seems like they came to stare, not to talk."
"Well, people here don't like people who are different. To them, you're all different."
"And to you?" You ask, tilting your head at him.
The look you give him could make his heart melt. Wide-eyed and kind down to your bones. If he had the power to call off the games, right now as he looked down into your soul, he would do it in a heartbeat. I'm not here to be friends with her. I'm here to win, Coriolanus has to remind himself. "You're different." He replies. "But I think that's a very good thing."
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taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned
if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!
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dark-frosted-heart · 5 months
Text
Hold On, You Spoiled Shogun! - Kagari
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An "If you were lovers" story. As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this
If Prince Kagari and I were lovers…
Kagari: Princess, don’t you want some dorayaki? Here’s some freshly-made ones. You can choose among red bean paste, butter and red bean paste, sakura bean paste, and matcha. There’s also the option for me to feed you.
Emma: …
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Kagari: I see, you’re not in the mood. Then do you want me to pat your head? My hands have a relaxing effect and are exclusive to you. Or do you want to pat my head? You’re more than welcome to.
Emma: …
Kagari: I see, you’re not in the mood. Then how about you lay your head on my lap? You must be exhausted from running around all morning. My lap’s only for you. It’s firm, but warm and you don’t have to wait for a good night’s rest.
Emma: …
Kagari: I see, you’re not in the mood. That’s too bad.
(I won't let you off easy this time)
On a day some time after I started staying in Kogyoku…
I stayed silent while Prince Kagari tried to cheer me up in the carriage ride to the castle.
I ignored him even when he offered the best dorayaki, head pats, lap pillows, and back hugs.
This had been going on for several hours now.
(But unsurprisingly, I’m starting to feel guilty and uncomfortable for continuing to ignore him)
(Surely Prince Kagari also—)
Kagari: Princess.
(...!)
Suddenly, a hand behind my head forced me to face Prince Kagari.
His blank expression was the same as usual.
But the aura around him said that he’d reached his limit.
Kagari: Are you in the mood for a kiss? I am.
Emma: Wai—
Kagari: I want to kiss you a lot.
Emma: Mnnn?! P-Prince Kagari…Haaa…
(Relentless…)
Fingers pried my mouth open and a tongue ravishes my mouth mercilessly.
Even if I tried to turn away in pain, I’m stopped immediately and lost strength.
It seemed like that made Kagari too excited and I immediately grabbed that hand that was under my skirt.
Emma: I won’t let you.
Kagari: Your agility’s improved.
Emma: You are training me every day.
Kagari: I see. Then I don’t have to go easy on you.
Emma: Eek…No fair. Please don’t stroke my legs so hard!
Despite my efforts to stop him, Kagari continued to leisurely stroke my legs and hooked his fingers into my underwear.
Kagari: Do you want me to stop?
Emma: Yes.
Kagari: Then swear that you won’t ignore me anymore. If you refuse, I’ll make you cry out loud enough for the coachman to hear you.
Emma: I won’t ignore you anymore, Prince Kagari. So please give me a break!
Kagari: I’ve been waiting to hear those words. A gold star for you, Princess.And by the way, don’t worry. What I said earlier was a lie. If anyone else hears your cries, there will be a bloodbath.
(Prince Kagari really would do it…)
(Ah, more importantly, I’m giving in again)
(I’m the one who’s mad at you. It’s frustrating!)
In an attempt to at least resist, I pressed my head against his broad chest.
Then, he buried his face in my neck like a playful cat, as if he enjoyed my resistance.
His somewhat stiff, fiery red hair tickled against my skin.
Kagari: I see you’re finally talking to me, Princess. Why did you run away?
(He’s asking already)
As Prince Kagari said, I rushed out of the castle this morning without telling anyone.
I thought it was emotional and childish behavior, but at the time, I couldn’t control myself.
In the end, I was caught as I was strolling through the streets to calm my mind, and my first time running away from home ended in an hour.
(Let’s discuss this properly. Otherwise we’ll both be left feeling uncertain)
I took a deep breath to prepare myself and looked at Prince Kagari.
Emma: Prince Kagari, you were injured in a recent battle, weren’t you?
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Kagari: …o_o
I didn’t miss how his gaze wavered for just a moment.
(Yep, “guilty” like I expected)
I’ve already lost count on how many times it’s happened.
Kagari: It was just a scratch and has completely healed.
Emma: Even so, that doesn’t change the fact that you got hurt. And you hid that injury from me, right? Instead of just forgetting to tell me. Didn’t I ask you before to let me know if you ever got hurt?
Kagari: Yeah, I remember.
Emma: That’s why I ran away…
Kogyoku’s a turbulent country and battles broke out everywhere.
Even if Prince Kagari’s strong, there’s no battle where you can simply come out unscathed.
(I’m sure he did that so I wouldn’t worry too much)
Even though I’m glad for his kindness, I still want to worry over him and patch him up.
(Regardless of how superficial the wound is, I don’t want to be smiling with him in ignorance…)
(Ah, this is bad…)
I remembered all those times when I watched Prince Kagari leave for battle and wait in a room without its master.
It was too late to hold it back, and the fear and anxiety welled up and blurred my vision.
Kagari: …o_o
(This is terrible. I didn’t mean to cry)
(But if it’ll stop Prince Kagari from hiding his wounds from me, then I should cry until my eyes become swollen)
Emma: Wah?!
(Huh…)
By the time I could even be surprised, I had already been pushed down.
Kagari: … ¬‿¬
(Ah…this is an emergency)
Green eyes that looked completely different from before, looked down at me.
Within those eyes was a familiar sweet and fierce heart…
I didn’t have the faintest idea what to expect, but it seemed like I had awakened the spoiled shogun.
(What really triggered it…No, I need to get out of this situation)
Kagari: Princess, you don’t know when to give up.
The sweetness in his voice was so different from his usual voice, and my body jolted in reflex.
Kagari: But that makes you cute and adorable, and makes me want to pamper you to death.
Emma: Don’t…
My hips were pulled toward him, hands held together in one hand, and he slotted his body between my legs.
I tried to move away but couldn’t, and the tears that pooled in the corner of my eyes left a small stain on the seat.
Kagari: Princess, Princess. Let me see that expression more.
When I looked away, he turned my face back toward him.
Prince Kagari looked at me, captivated, and wiped my tears with his lips.
No matter how many times I saw it, the way he looked different from his usual self made my brain want to malfunction.
(Even though I understood more than before, I still didn’t know what triggered this spoiled side…)
Kagari: I do like your tears. Especially if they’re shed because of me. I get this irresistible feeling whenever I see it.
Emma: …You have a terrible personality.
Kagari: Your cat’s more spoiled and bloodthirsty than any other cat. But it’s you who brought me down to this point, twisted me and corrupted me.
The way he happily nipped at my neck over and over again was like a cat going crazy with silver vine. 
When Prince Kagari’s like this, the only choice is to wait for him to calm down.
(He really is bothersome…But so am I)
(I ran away from home, yet I’m pleased by Kagari’s words)
Prince Kagari’s been on the battlefield since he was a child, feared as the “Yaksha”.
It was like no one cared for the lives reaped around them…
Perhaps that’s why he preferred the tears I shed.
I felt my chest tighten as I thought about the past Prince Kagari.
(I can’t get angry at him when he said it so happily)
Kagari: Princess, what are you thinking about?
Emma: About you. You’re all I’ve been thinking about since this morning.
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Kagari: Me too.
(That’s the weakness from love, isn’t it)
Prince Kagari’s lips fell everywhere, on my forehead, around my eyes, cheeks, and ears.
The meager resistance of stopping his kisses with a finger was met with a tickling tongue and a sweet bite.
Emma: Prince Kagari, do you regret hiding your wound?
Kagari: I do. I can’t bear Princess running away or ignoring me. I’m sorry. I won’t hide it from you anymore. So Princess, don’t leave me. …If you’re going to abandon me, then kill me
Emma: …I won’t abandon you. And I won’t kill you.
I wrapped my arms around Prince Kagari’s neck and this time, I pried his lips open and entwined my tongue with his.
We kissed again and again, melting away each other’s passion, anxiety, and everything else.
(I’ll never abandon you)
(I’m the one who put the bell on you that you can’t take off)
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 3 months
Note
hi! is there any chance you could write a scenario for spencer with a plus sized reader? love your writing!
༉‧₊˚. 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
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― pairing: spencer reid x plus size neighbor!reader
― summary: every day you and spencer talk to each other on your balconies, but you want more, and spencer is more than happy to - albeit shyly - oblige.
― warnings: mentioned/referenced marijuana usage, the reader smokes cigarettes, reader with a potty mouth, a tad bit of emotional hurt/comfort but not really, mutual pining, polar opposites, opposites attract, black cat and golden retriever vibes, neighbors to lovers, balconies as the main plot point of this fic somehow, fluff, the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff :[
― wc: 1208
⋆ a/n: okay would you believe me if i told you that this was not only supposed to be a drabble, but was also for a whole other request entirely? 😭 i really got lost in the sauce that was this fic and i really hope you enjoy because this is probably my favorite work that i have done in a while :]
masterlist | AO3
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This has got to be a skill issue.
Maybe it was because of his job, but Spencer often finds himself attracted to danger – or most of the time danger finds him.
Now technically speaking, there’s nothing dangerous about you, but just one look at you and everything just screams trouble; you’re covered in tattoos, and you always seem to smell like a mixture of your perfume and whatever you bathe with along with a hint of weed and cigarettes. 
You’re sarcastic, witty, and above all else, you’re beautiful. So beautiful that sometimes Spencer feels the breath get stolen from right out of his lungs. You wouldn’t have to be doing anything, just hanging outside on your balcony shrunk into your lawn chair early in the morning, the sun hitting your sleep-ridden face, a cigarette hanging delicately between your fingers.
Your first meeting hadn’t been ideal, but it truly was an honest mistake.
You had a large gathering inside your apartment when you had first moved in, metal music and music along that genre blasted through the thin layers of the wall separating your respected spaces.
Spencer couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in his bed. He thought that maybe once it had hit later on in the night it would quiet down, but it had been just as roundy as it was in the afternoon. He had willed himself to get up, mentally preparing himself for an unpleasant conversation that would no doubt be unfriendly.
He hadn’t been expecting you to open the door with a beer dangling in your hand, perching yourself against the door frame with crossed arms.
From what Spencer could see from behind you, there was quite a crowd of people dispersed about. A wave of liquor and marijuana infused air hit his nose and tried his best to keep himself from grimacing, but you had caught it.
“Hey uh-” Spencer was strangely intimidated by you, by your dark beauty and his hands came together, fingers picking at a hangnail nervously. “I live next door and um- would you mind uh… keeping the music down?” 
A flash of guilt graced your features for a moment before you spoke. “Oh shit, sorry man, yeah totally, no problem. Sorry about that.” You gave him a once over before smirking. “What’s your name?”
And after that, the rest of your friendship was history; sometimes he’d catch you coming up the stairs as he’d leave his home to run an errand, or he’d run into you getting your mail.
It was a slow building friendship, but it was one that he was happy he was able to make, because he really really did not want to have a rivalry with a neighbor. The feelings came later though, but maybe they had always been there.
The mornings when Spencer had a day off had a different kind of air to it, one that allowed him to feel at ease, relaxed. He had been deep in thought as he stared out at the quiet, empty street below him when he heard the sliding glass door of your apartment open, and there you were, tumbling out groggily.
You had stepped out with a cup of coffee, much like him in a way; you had a severe case of bed head, your black tank top and sleep shorts did nothing to hide the curves of your body as well as the art that painted your skin like an ethereal canvas.
You were drowsy, he could see it in the bags under your eyes and the frown that you normally adorned after a long night at the diner you worked at.
Maybe it was weird that he was watching you, but there was nothing more that he enjoyed than seeing you in your natural element.
You traded your coffee for the carton of cigarettes on the small table you had outside, slipping one of them safely between your lips before attempting to light it to no avail. He could hear you struggle with the cog before huffing and tossing the lighter on the glass table with a small ‘piece of shit’.
“Maybe it’s a sign.” Spencer called out from where he stood. There was no need to shout, seeing as though there was only a couple of inches separating your patios.
You threw a look at him, a lazy smirk dancing on your lips as you tucked the stick of tobacco behind your ear.
“Oh yeah? A sign of what?” You egged on. You rested your arms on the railing that faced his left side. “A sign that you should quit.” You scoffed. “No, it’s a sign that I should stop letting my friends swap their shit out for mine and pretending I don’t notice.” 
That pulled a chuckle out of Spencer, the man lifting the coffee to take a leisure sip of before continuing. “Long day at work last night?” He inquired.
You sighed, burying your fingers in your hair before dragging your hands down your face roughly.
“You could say that. I feel like my job does shit just to fuck with me, because every table I was given had people that were total fucking assholes.” You groaned, “Plus most of them didn’t even fucking tip! It’s like God Spence, I’m just about to fucking quit and get paid minimum wage somewhere else.”
Spencer feels a pang of sympathy in his gut. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He says with a frown. You just wave him off. “No, no. I’m sorry. It’s too early for my bitching.”
“I…” He begins with a gulp, “I don’t mind your bitching.” He adds with a sheepish grin. You laugh, and the sound is almost like bells in his ears. “You’re too sweet to me, Spence.” He gives you a noncommittal shrug, hiding his quickly reddening face behind another sip of his coffee.
“You’re off today right? What’re your plans?” You ask. You retreat for a moment before grabbing your own mug and taking a sip. There’s a slight grimace on your face, “God this tastes like shit.” You mumble beneath your breath.
“Nothing much if I’m going to be honest.” Spencer hadn’t really thought about what he wanted to do. He mostly planned on having a lazy day that was made up of tv show reruns, his new book he had bought and a nice dinner.
“There’s some grocery shopping I need to do, so you’re welcome to come with me if you want.” You say before you can stop yourself. You can feel nervous butterflies flutter around in your lower belly. You had never gone out of your way to invite the genius out anywhere, but you yearned to spend time with him.
It’s not like you guys don’t hangout, but it mostly consists of domestic conversations like these, speaking to each other from your balconies either during the morning or at night.
There’s no hiding the redness that completely overtakes Spencer’s face, his gaze falling for a moment before meeting your eyes.
“That sounds great.” Spencer says sweetly, and he really hopes his voice isn’t as breathless as it sounds.
“Cool.” You feign nonchalance by taking a hefty drink out of your mug.
“Cool.” Spencer reiterates with a small smile on his face.
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rainrot4me · 3 months
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Steam Roller | Chapter 5
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Summary: You spill your guts to Jeff, pouring your emotions until EJ and Masky pay a visit letting Jeff know plans Slender has made. This changes things, for both you and him.
Characters: Jeffrey Woods x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Fingering, nipple sucking, vaginal, mentions of death, fighting, possessiveness
Words: 4.0k
This is a continuation, chapter one is here.
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The first thing Jeffrey smelled when he stirred from sleep was coffee.
It wasn’t bad, but it was unfamiliar. And the raging headache tearing away at his head made the aroma that much better. He threw your covers off of him, slightly disappointed you weren’t there when he awoke. Begrudgingly, he shuffled to the kitchen and squinted at the bright sunlight peeking through the windows. Fuck this. But when he eventually saw you pouring the sweet smelling drink into a mug, his gaze softened ever so slightly at the domestic ways of it all.
Last night was idiotic. The past week had been idiotic. Come to think of it, Jeff couldn’t think of a time where he was in his right mind about something.
But as you turned and glanced at him, soft eyes grinning as you sipped from the steaming mug, he felt right about something for once. Even if it was going to get him in more trouble than it was worth.
Truth was, Slender didn’t like distractions. Especially things that would distract someone from doing what he needed them to. And you were a big distraction. Jeff wouldn’t say that he loved you. Fuck that, he didn’t believe in the word. What he did know is that you crept into his every thought and affected his every emotion over the course of mere days. If this is what you did to him after a week, he couldn’t imagine what would happen if you stuck around longer. He shuffled to your side, wrapping his arms around your hips and pulling you into his chest. His chin rested on your head, the warm smell of coffee cleansing his pounding head. “Mornin’.” He mumbled, rubbing a hand on your hip. “Morning.” You sighed back, laying your head on his bare chest.
Jeff’s biggest fear is that he would get you caught up in something stupid and end up with you killed. The other creeps he could handle, but the proxies, not to mention Slender? Could he protect you from them too?
“We need to talk.” Stomping on his train of thoughts, you pressed off of Jeff and started into his eyes. He noticed the stern look, uncomfortably focused. Shit. Jeff was too hungover for the talk. But as you guided him over to the couch and sat him on the opposite end from you, he knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
“First. I don’t know why you disappeared for days with no reason and I don’t really want an explanation,” You huffed, holding your mug close to your chest. “But I’m not some toy for you to just use whenever you feel ready to. I’m not your pet.” Jeff cringed, staring at the space on the couch between you so he wouldn’t have to look you in the eyes. “Second. I don’t trust you. Not at all. But I would much rather you visit me like a normal person than break into my room.”
Jeff stifled a laugh, glancing up to meet your stern face. He smiled, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. “Oh come on. Don’t act like you don’t love it.” You gritted your teeth, looking away before rolling your eyes. “Besides the point. I want to feel safe in my own home. And I’m afraid I can’t do that if I have a serial killer messing around in it.” The words were rough. Your stern tone nailing every command as Jeff listened closely but refused to look at you. He wanted you to be able to trust him, but who the hell was going to trust a killer? You had, apparently. At least you were trying to. It was so odd. Like every warning switch in your brain was flipped and told you that dangerous men were safe. You had no conscience about him, but that was why he liked you.
You embraced the dark. Not only in him, but in the way you lived too. In the woods, far apart from society. In the way you decorated your home, rustic and gloomy. Even the way you dressed screamed unnatural. You accepted the weird and uncanny, you accepted him. Not accepted, more like challenged. You didn’t let these things scare you, you let it surround you when others would cower. The first time you met, for example. You didn’t cry and run. You faced him head on, terror and all. It was far more admirable to Jeff than you realized. If Slender and the others couldn’t see that, he’d make them.
However, when you back an animal into a corner, they bite. “Jeff!” You huffed, catching his attention back. You were angry, brows knitted at the fact he hadn’t been listening the entire time. “Sorry. What?” He groaned, rubbing his head as the headache began to spread to his neck. You leaned back into the couch, circling your finger on the rim of the mug as you collected your words again. “I said I don’t forgive you for what you did that night.” Jeff was stuck, staring at your downtrodden face as you refused to meet his. Killing was nothing for Jeffrey, a contractual obligation he had to fill. His purpose. A way to let off steam and get a bit of enjoyment. He sometimes forgot the way it affected others afterwards. “It’s not like I had a choice…” He mumbled, glancing out the bright windows to the maze of trees. He wanted to give you the truth, but he knew that wasn’t going to be enough. It never was for humans. “And you expect me to just move on like it didn’t happen? There’s only so many times we can fuck before I eventually stir their spirits to curse me or something.” You gritted your teeth, browns knotted. Jeff growled back, rolling his eyes.
“I can fuck you however many times I want, fuck your dead friends.”
It struck a chord and he knew it. Your face dropped, staring at him like he had just cursed you. It felt weird to see your face upset. He usually found pain funny, laughing at the tears and screams he caused others. But when he caused tears to spill down your cheeks, it just made him uneasy and mad. And a little turned on. Sick fuck he was. You had the spunk and strength of a beast, stronger than most he knew. So when he scooted closer and wiped the tears from your cheeks, you felt weak. You felt like you were betraying your friends, dishonoring them. “How am I ever supposed to forgive you?” You mumbled, leaning into his hand.
Jeff watched your eyes, searching for some answer in each other's gazes that you’d never find. “Don’t. Just accept that you can’t change it.” He sighed, rubbing your flushed cheeks in his hands. “I’m not some boyfriend that needs your forgiveness. The stuff I gotta do isn’t worth dwelling on.” Jeff’s hands slid to your chest, slipping the mug out of your hands and placing it on the table adjacent to the couch. He pressed you back, laying your head on the armrest and moving to mouth kisses on your neck. You slid your arms around his neck, shutting your eyes as you sighed your approval of the little hips he gave your shoulder. “I can’t forgive you, Jeffrey… But- ahh. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try.” You gasped into the air, rubbing your hands on his back as he slid his cold hands up your shirt, massaging your tits.
There has to be something wrong with you.
But as Jeff pulled up your shirt to your shoulders and began to suck on your nipples, the reasons why slipped your mind. He had seeked you out when no one else wanted to. Granted, he was a serial killer, but that didn’t make him any less of a potential. You craved tension and struggle, and that’s exactly what Jeffrey was so willing to give you. A build up and a release. Where he messed with your head and pushed you to your limits, he was there again to calm those desperations and appeal to your every want. Call it stockholm syndrome or whatever the fuck people wanted to label it, but to you this was as real as it got. Two people who complimented each other in the just fucked up ways. You wrapped your fingers in his messy hair, pressing his face down harder against your nipple as he bit at the nub.
The crash against your front door made the both of you jump up, hands quick to tug your shirt down as you saw the two large figures enter through your swinging door. Masky and EJ. But compared to the last time you saw them, EJ was the one lighting Jeff up rather than Masky.
“My truck?! I’m gonna gut you.” He snarled, circling the couch and tugging Jeff up by his hair, holding his face close to his dark blue mask. You glanced between the three, Jeff already pumping his fists against EJ, but the larger man refused to budge. Masky watched from behind your couch, crossing his arms as he watched the two until he glanced at you. He scooted over and perched his elbows against the back of the couch, bringing his mask close to your face. “Nice house.” You nodded awkwardly, glancing nervously to Jeffrey as EJ shoved him to the floor. “How did you find it?” You mumbled, eyeing back to Masky. “Ben snitched. You don’t know him.” You glanced back to the fight. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to intervene but the thought of expressing EJ’s wrath onto you made you rethink. You turned back to Masky.
“I don’t want Jeff to leave.” You mumbled, fiddling your fingers nervously. It felt weird to express your thoughts to some stranger, but Masky seemed the one in charge of whatever this little group was, so it seemed fit. “Whoever Slender is, tell him Jeff’s done.” Masky laughed hoarsely, coughing in between the bits he could catch his breath. He thought it was hysterical, but you kept your face serious. When he lifted his head back, he realized this. “Sorry sweetheart. Not how it works.” He leaned up, glancing out the windows and searching for something in the trees that seemed to capture the attention of every creep that stepped in here. Like something was watching. “Slender doesn’t work like that, you see. Jeffrey’s indebted to him, saving his life and stuff. He works for him until Slender decides he doesn’t need him anymore. Even Jeff knows that won’t change.” You huffed, glancing back to the two as EJ slapped the back of Jeff’s head before plopping onto your couch.
It didn’t make sense, but you guessed it wasn’t meant to be to someone like you. You understood that none of the men who stood in your living room were completely human, but it didn’t scare you. If anything it intrigued you.
Jeff pushed himself off the floor with a grunt, holding his head as he plopped himself onto the spot next to you. EJ and Masky watched closely, glancing at each other through their masks. “You can take the truck, but I’m not goin’.” Jeff huffed, laying his head on your shoulder and collapsing his weight against you. Masky stepped around to the front of the couch and crouched on the coffee table in the center of the room. “That’s why I’m here. Slender wanted to make a deal.”
Jeff sat up, staring at Masky with so much intensity it seemed like he could fish out the bullshit if he looked hard enough. “And?” Jeff huffed, slinking his hand to grip your knee tightly. EJ sat up, watching the interaction closely, almost like he was studying.
“He’s willing to let you keep the girl. But only if you keep her at this house. She’s not allowed to live at the mansion.” Jeff sat there, studying through the words as his fingers flexed against your knee. You slid your hands up, cupping his hand in your own and staring at his hardened expression. “Why?” He huffed. Masky leaned back, looking out the window again. “Too much for the others. You really think Jack’s going to hold up well with a good smelling girl running around?” When you glanced at EJ, you suddenly noticed he wasn’t staring at Jeff at all. He was staring straight at you, the mask barely obscuring your visibility of his direction. Jeff wrapped his arm around your thighs, scooping you closer to him. You slinked closer to Jeff, the weight of him comforting you as you forced yourself to glance back at Masky. “And because he’s willing to let the girl be a good breather for you. But he needs you focused when you’re being given a mission, not worrying about when you can get your dick in her next.” He groaned. Jeff smirked his lip ever so slightly, side-eyeing you before letting out a long breath.
“Well shit. Slender’s gone soft, huh?” He chuckled, furrowing his brow as he glanced out the window as well. You followed the two men’s gaze, trying your hardest to see what was continually grabbing their attention. That was, until you saw it. He hid behind the trees so well. Black swirled tentacles traced along the dense tree line to mimic branches, his long stalky form blending in perfectly to dark wood towering over your house. You couldn’t look away, even as you saw his face and the lack of features, you could tear your eyes from him. It was like he was pulling you in, his form beckoning you.
A rough hand wrapped around your jaw and pulled you back to face your living room, snapping you out of your weird trance. You met Jeff’s face, his hand brushing the hair from your face as he furrowed his brows. “And because she’s not used to him yet.” Masky chuckled, leaning forward onto his knees. They knew he was out there. How long had he been there? Was he going to leave? You forced yourself to keep looking straight, but you could still feel his gaze in your peripheral. If that was the thing running the stupid mansion, you were perfectly fine not stepping inside there. EJ had turned away from you, crossing one leg over the other as he stared out the window and basically stared right at Slender.
Jeff and Masky continued to talk about the terms of Slender’s little deal, scraping over any loopholes or problems that might arise but seeming to come to an agreement. “You can tell the guy he’s got a deal. But stop the stupid headache bullshit.” Jeff groaned, kneading your thigh in his hand. Masky nodded, standing as EJ shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed his truck keys, cursing at Jeff before siding out the door. Masky nodded to you. You smiled back, unsure of him but worrying not as he slid the door closed. You heard the truck start in your driveway before peeling out and onto the dirt road.
You glanced back out the window, realizing the tall slim figure was gone as well, a wave of relief rushing you. Jeff leaned into you, cupping your cheek in his cold hand as he stared at you, until his soft glance turned darker. “You’re all mine now, babe.” He grinned, leaning over you to press your back down onto the couch, climbing on top of you. “Now to get back to those nice little tits.” He hissed, peeling your shirt off your body and tossing it to the floor. He took your right nipple into his mouth quickly, circling the nub with his tongue until you were whining and squirming. He popped off of it, pinching the opposite nipple as he gazed into your eyes. “My tits. All mine. Everything.” He sighed, breathing heavily. He stuck his tongue out, the gashes on each side of his mouth pulling wide to make his mouth look huge. He licked a streak up your cheek, kissing the skin tenderly down to your lips before enveloping them as well.
Jeff never really obsessed over anything minuscule. He got excited, blood pumping and adrenaline rising, but he never continuously went back to something that wasn’t vital. But you, you were his problem. He mentally labeled you as his. And now that Slender has given him the all clear, only God himself could stop the pale killer from never letting you go. His breath still stunk of alcohol from the night before as he pressed his tongue into your mouth. But you still had more to say, so you pressed your hands against his cheeks and pushed his head back. Jeff looked distraught, like a dog being held back from his food bowl, he strained against your hands trying to taste your lips again.
“So we’re doing this. Whatever… this is.” You croaked, rubbing your thumbs against his gashed cheeks. Jeff started into your eyes, confusion guiding them. “I’ve never been a big fan of labels,” He sighed, letting the weight of his head rest against your hands as he spoke. “But I know I’m willing to do whatever for… this.” He smiled, kissing your palm before pulling your wrists back. He dove back into your neck, pressing light kisses against the skin. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re mine.”
You laid back, letting Jeff lick and probe at your neck until he made his way down to your tits again, back arching as his rough tongue slid over your nipples. Mine, mine, mine. Jeff chanted it to you with every kiss he laid, gripping your skin so tight you could feel the bruises blossoming. You had never had anyone relish you the way Jeff did. But you weren’t afraid, because if a serial killer could find you beautiful and worth keeping, then you would give yourself to him. However he wanted.
Jeff had you flipped onto your stomach before you could react. His hands gripped at your shorts and tugged them down, hands gripping at the arm of the couch to keep you stable. “Jeff-“ You groaned as he straddled the back of your thighs and began to knead your ass in his hands. He reached father, spreading your lips apart and groaning at the wetness as he licked his own fingers. He rubbed at your entrance, wetting the area before sliding a digit in, then another, stretching you open slowly. You could barely move your hips against his fingers as he sunk them in and curled into your warmth. He was chuckling above you, sliding his fingers deeper the louder you whined. “Love how you just fall apart on my fingers, babe…” He groaned, unzipping his jeans and tugging out his throbbing cock, stroking it slowly.
You were pressing your hips back against his fingers, begging for more than just shallow pumps and stretched flesh. You needed to be full. You needed his cock. It struck you suddenly how whipped he had you. The days he was gone, it was hard for you to come on your own fingers without imagining his voice guiding you through it. It was embarrassing, but now that he was back, you had no fear if you’d finish or not.
“Please…” You whined, gripping the arm of the couch so he tight your knuckles turned white. He smiled, the little shit eating grin making you whine. “Please what, babe.” He sunk his fingers inside of your cunt all the way to the knuckle and held them there, unmoving. You ground your hips, breathing in deeply. “Jeffrey. I swear to God.” You growled, reaching back to grip his hair, pulling him down to meet the side of your face. “Fuck me already.” The force made his cock twitch, a large grin decorating his pale cheeks as he tugged his fingers out and lined the head of his cock up with your entrance. “My baby wants me sooo bad, doesn’t she?” He laughed, sliding his hands under your hips and tugging your ass up with a forceful grip. “Then that’s what you’re gonna get.”
He nudged the head of his cock in, the stretch making you moan loudly into the couch. But as soon as his head popped past your entrance, he slammed the rest of his cock into your cunt. The sudden fullness shot the air from your lungs, making your eyes roll back. “Basically made for me, huh?” Jeff started at a quick pace, his hips slapping into yours as every inch of his cock stuffed you full. He continuously mumbled to himself about how good you felt, how well you were taking him. But you could barely hear over your own arousal screaming in your ears. Every slam of his cock against your walls making moans and gasps fall from your lips. “All yours.” You gasped, arching back into the rough pace. Jeff’s hands gripped tighter on your hips, his knees digging into the couch as he fucked down into you quickly.
You were still tired from last night, but you didn’t understand how Jeff was still so horny with a hangover. It was like nothing could keep him off of you, no matter what ailed him. You didn’t have time to think about it as you felt your orgasm blossoming in your core, Jeff’s cock sinking deeply and riding you out. He was quick to follow, his quick pace deterring as he finally bottomed out and released deep into your cunt. As you caught your breath, Jeff slipped out of you and pulled you up into his lap, cradling you.
“I could come in you everyday, but I still don’t think it would be enough.” He laughed, stroking your hair lazily as he watched the woods outside. Jeff felt calm for once. He wasn’t checking the woods to make sure Slender wasn’t there, he was just looking to admire the beauty. He knew sooner or later he’d have to leave your arms, but at this moment he wanted to enjoy his new prize. His. All his.
-
Jeff was eventually called back to the mansion, the hangover headache becoming more intense, leading to him giving you a quick kiss before he left you on the couch.
You knew, deep down, that this was wrong. But as you lounged in his hoodie, curled up in his scent, you couldn’t convince yourself to act on it. People find each other for a reason, and you knew that Jeff had seeked you out because he wanted to. He had to kill people, whether for missions or for personal release, but he didn’t have to find you. He didn’t have to seek you out and relish in your sadness, accepting your every emotion and likewise with his. Weird finds weird, you guessed.
You couldn’t forgive him for what he had done to your friends, but it helped to know that he hadn’t done it on his own will. However fucked up it was, you wanted to forget it, start on a new page with the killer you now called a lover.
Hours later when Jeff returned, you were already in bed, wrapped in his scent. He pulled himself under the sheets next to you, cuddling into your back. He smelled sickly sweet, like dirt and grime. You realized it was the smell of dried blood mixed with his own scent. It was alarming, making you turn to face him, but he was already snoring into the pillow. When you realized it wasn’t his, you relaxed again. Through the nasty smell, it was still his scent surrounding you, comforting you. You nuzzled into his neck, breathing deeply as you drifted yourself.
You’d take Jeff, killer or not. Monster or not. He was a sick fuck but he was your sick fuck, unfortunately. He was there to protect you from the people who wanted to hurt you, but he was also there to comfort you in any way you needed. There really wasn’t more you could ask for.
Slender be damned. Logic be damned. You had left your morality when you let him fuck you on that stump. You let him break down your aggressive barriers and place himself inside, creating a home in your head.
As you slipped into sleep, you couldn’t help but smile.
Chapter 6 is here!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
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