#she captivated me with her whore-like charms

[plasticsandwich]

and then stab ourselves after!!!!!

[les4elliewilliams]

❝SHE’S A MANEATER!❞ – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞. 

LOSER!ELLIE ﾒ MEAN!READER

❝OH-OH HERE SHE COMES WATCH OUT, GIRL, SHE’LL CHEW YOU UP!❞

ᝰ.ᐟ ⌞SUMMARY⌝﹕After bumping into you on her first day of college, Ellie spends the entire year captivated by you from a distance. You're everything she could never be—popular, wealthy, and effortlessly alluring, with a perfect, disgustingly rich family to match. Convinced she didn’t stand a chance, Ellie resigns herself to watching from the sidelines. But when her best friend Dina suggests they work at a public pool for the summer, Ellie agrees, hoping to save up some money. What she never expected was to find you there, commanding the space with a magnetic, dangerous charm that pulls her in. Now, Ellie’s summer is about to take a turn she never saw coming, and she’s about to find out just how close she can get to you before it all falls apart.

✶.ᐟ ⌞THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS⌝﹕ approx 10k words⨾ cursing⨾ angst⨾ cheating⨾ reader being a bitch for no reason⨾ 18+ CONTENT (porn with plot)⨾ fingering (𝑒!receiving)⨾ cum eating??⨾ pussy slapping ⨾ thigh riding (r!receiving)⨾ reader is a milf lover⨾ coworker!ellie⨾ dom!reader⨾ fem!reader⨾ player!reader x loser!ellie⨾ jealousy issues⨾ use of names (babygirl, sweetheart, baby, babe, slut/whore, etc...)⨾ lmk if i missed anything!

.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞AUTHOR´S NOTE⌝﹕ last chapter of part one, finally!! I will start working on the sequel soon (hopefully), I PROMISE there's gonna be a happy ending + an extra drabble/chapter🙄. proofread by @sapphichotmess!!

#.ᐟ ⌞TAGLIST⌝﹕@pick-me-up-im-scared @rew1nds @satellitespinner @boobdrug @ivying @elliewilliamsbelovedwife @mina-281 @hysteriawillnotsuccumb @chxrryvalxntine @bookpagecandlescent @fionaapplelover2010 @andersonslove @macaroni676 @elliesbabygirl @vampcubus @visupremacysstuff @elssaphica @kaykeryyy @nenas19 @rxreaqia @fatbootymuncher @dying-brb @euphoric-rush @intothespidersweb @d1psht

#.ᐟ ⌞CHAPTERS⌝ ↯

˗ˏˋ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ⋆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ⋆ 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 ˎˊ˗

palestine masterpost ⋆ read this ⋆ daily clicks

31st of August.

Ellie desperately tried to stay away from you, avoiding you like the plague, but her efforts never lasted long. You were too radiant to ignore, too mesmerizing not to be near, and too addictive to avoid speaking to. She was drawn back to you, just like every time she tried to walk away. It wasn’t just a simple matter of having her wrapped around your finger; she was completely captivated by you in body, mind, and soul. You had a hold on her in a way that felt like possessing a voodoo doll made of her hair and personal trinkets. She was as dependent on you as a flower is on water and the moon is on the sun, although the sun never relied on the moon to shine.

The redhead observed you as you conversed with a local customer at the pool, a middle-aged single mother with sleek black hair and icy blue eyes, the reincarnation of Megan Fox—except that Megan Fox was still alive. Her piercing gaze might have intimidated others, but not you. Instead, you smiled warmly and laughed softly as she spoke, your widest smile on full display each time she said something amusing.

Ellie didn’t think too much of it; after all, you were always overly sweet and nice to clients, everyone but her and the people who worked with you—or for you. She didn’t think too much of it until that woman scribbled something down on a napkin from the box on the counter, right beside her elbow, that comfortably rested on the black marble. The woman handed it to you, and the smile she gave you after was less polite. Was this shit even allowed in here?

Ellie wanted to come at you, yell, and fuss at you about it, but she held back. She knew you would brush her off and act like you weren’t knuckles deep inside her sopping hole last night and like she hadn’t been chanting your name like you were the fucking holy Mary herself. You’d treat her like you usually did in public: like you despised her, so she avoided that.

She stood by the deck, Jesse at her side, both enveloped in a serene silence. Unbeknownst to her, his deep chocolate eyes had been studying her attentively. His gaze followed hers, fixing on you, who appeared to be flirting with a woman twice your age.

Ever since Ellie started working here, she had been behaving strangely, a fact that didn’t escape Dina’s notice. Despite Dina’s efforts to point it out, Jesse claimed he couldn’t quite see what she was talking about. The brunette strongly believed that her best friend was keeping something from them, acting mysteriously and evasively about her whereabouts. Ellie always seemed busy whenever they wanted to hang out, and she would never fully explain where she was or what she was up to.

Jesse nonchalantly dismissed the situation, attributing Ellie’s behavior to her quirks. There was some truth to his comment—Ellie often guarded her feelings like an ancient mummy, whatever she was going through. Yet, as he observed the jealousy creeping over her face like an ominous shadow, her previously soft features hardening, he knew. Her airy scoff confirmed his suspicions, prompting him to address the issue directly, not treading lightly around the matter.

“Is it her that you’re seeing?” the Asian asked abruptly, his words filled with pure curiosity. He spoke in a hushed tone, making sure their conversation remained private. Ellie’s heart sank at his direct question, causing her to freeze as her face lost whatever color it had, turning even paler than usual. 

Her first thought was, “Is he going to tell Dina?” and then, “Dina’s gonna kill me,” though the latter was a common affirmation that popped into her mind whenever she messed up somehow. Dina often acted like an overprotective mother every second of the day, always quick to scold and lecture her. Not even Maria did that, and she was the closest thing she had to a mother figure.

As her mind raced with uncertainty, Jesse quickly interjected, seeking to soothe her fears with a reassuring tone, “Not gonna tell anyone, y’know.” he said, his voice soft but resolute, sensing her internal conflict.

She exhaled shakily and murmured a quiet, “Yes.” Her eyes darted away from his, finding solace in the chaotic beauty of the pool filled with kids and families. “But she doesn’t want anyone to know,” she added quickly, her gaze dropping to her lap as she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“Did she tell you why?”

“She’s not ready, she’s not even out yet,” the anxious girl explained with a huff, reluctantly meeting his eyes again. She could already feel his judgment, knew he’d think she was being naive, and that she should end things before it got worse.

“Is she serious about it?” he couldn’t help but retort, a hint of disbelief in his voice. He’d just seen you flirting with another woman moments ago, the memory fresh and irritating.

“It’s... we’re just hooking up,” Ellie revealed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“So it’s not.”

“No, it’s just too early to say. She said she needs time to—” Jesse’s sarcastic scoff cut her off. She gave him a puzzled look, her brows arching in confusion. “What?”

“You’re not that fucking dumb, are you?” he rhetorically asked, his voice quiet and scolding, careful to keep their conversation private.

“What—I’m not being stupid. She needs time. We talked about it last night—I can’t force her to come out when she doesn’t feel ready. It’s not fair to her.” Ellie’s tone grew defensive, a shield against his skepticism. But she knew he was right. This whole hookup thing wasn’t something she even wanted. 

“Yeah. How long has she been telling you she needs time?” Jesse shot back quickly, his words like arrows, ready to prove his point.

Ellie stayed quiet for a moment, the weight of his question hanging heavy between them. “‘S not like that,” she finally mumbled.

“What is it like then?” he challenged, not missing a beat. “Look—you do you, man. If you’re happy, I’m happy and all that shit. But she doesn’t exactly have a good reputation. She’s gonna break your heart,” he stated with a frustrating certainty.

“You don’t know that,” she snapped back, her voice laced with desperation.

“Neither do you.” A sarcastic chuckle from her friend broke the tension between them. “I really hope you don’t get hurt in the end,” he concluded, getting up and casually strolling away after a few kids who weren’t wearing their swimming caps, his trustworthy whistle in his hand.

Ellie watched him walk away, a rush of conflicting emotions flooding through her. Anger and doubt churned within her as she turned her gaze back to the pool, the cheerful laughter of the children now fading into the background. Lost in her thoughts, she was startled when you sat down on the white plastic chair beside her. “Hey, Nelly,” you said, your tone cool and composed, maintaining your mean-girl facade, especially in the presence of others. Your mask remained firmly in place, a deliberate refusal to show vulnerability. Despite your determination to be different from your parents, who prioritized outward appearances, you couldn’t help but feel like you were following in their footsteps. The apple did not fall too far from the tree.

“Hey,” Ellie greeted, her usually buoyant tone noticeably absent.

You turned to look at her, your eyebrow raising in a perfect arc as you gazed at her inquisitively. “What’s with the attitude?”

The autumn-haired girl found herself unable to shake off Jesse’s words. They reverberated through her mind, planting seeds of doubt and uncertainty. She desperately wished Jesse had misjudged you; he didn’t know you like she did. How could he possibly pass judgment without truly knowing you? Yet, a rational part of her refused to be silenced, urging her to pay heed to those nagging doubts and not to confuse overthinking with intuition.

Ellie’s words slipped out before she could stop herself, her tone accusatory and colder than she intended. “What’s with that woman who just gave you her number?”

You looked back at her in surprise, and your lips formed an “oh” before you quickly offered a plausible excuse. “Babysitting.”

“Babysitting?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she locked eyes with you, her expression oozing with skepticism. “Since when do you even babysit?”

“It’s always been something I’ve done,” you replied, unfazed by her doubt.

“Sure, like you really need the extra cash,” she quipped, still skeptical.

“I really do. I can’t keep relying on my parents for everything,” you calmly asserted. There was no hint of defensiveness in your voice; you spoke with a sense of certainty, that it made her feel stupid for questioning your commitment, but she didn’t let it show. 

“Okay,” she sighed out, her shoulders slumping as she exhaled, feeling the weight lift off her shoulders.

“Are you coming to the beach tonight? There’s going to be a campfire and free drinks,” you asked, propping your elbows on the arms of the plastic chair as you leaned back, smirking in her direction.

“Yeah, gonna see you there?” the freckled girl inquired with a touch of optimism reflected in her expression. The sun beamed down on her, highlighting her green eyes, making them appear even more vibrant and clear.

“Of course, you’re going to see me there.” your smile grew wider as you replied.

And she did see you there, locked in a passionate kiss with some nameless guy on a bench. 

Ellie’s heart splintered into thousands of fragments. It felt as if her insides plunged deeper than the Titanic, the weight of her emotions pressing them down. Despite the overwhelming urge to scream and cry, she found herself unable to produce any sound. Her eyes remained dry, failing to well up with the salty tears that typically accompanied emotional pain. The sea wind tousled her auburn hair, leaving a faint, familiar saltiness behind. Her skin was ablaze, and her stomach churned with disgust, threatening to expel its contents. 

Everyone had warned her about you, and they had been right all along.

You didn’t give a damn, you never did. Were any of the sweet words you whispered to her even true? Was she just one of many? Ellie’s mind was a whirlwind of endless questions, most of them rooted in self-doubt. She wasn’t good enough for you, she’d never been. She was never going to measure up to your standards, to your expectations. She was never enough. You were flawless, admired, it only made sense that someone like you would never genuinely desire someone like her. Why would you? She wasn’t attractive, wealthy, or widely liked. She was just an unremarkable, tangled mess of poor humor and peculiarities. You, however, were a living Greek god, cruelly playing with her mind, and shamelessly taking more and more of her, each time she gave you everything she had to offer.

It felt as if Cupid himself had conspired against her, allowing her to experience and savor something that would never belong to her. Unbeknownst to her, even something as lovely as a lily, one of the most exquisite blossoms, could conceal danger beneath its pink velvety petals. She was like a curious cat, irresistibly drawn to the intrigue and allure of the forbidden flower, unaware of its poisonous nature.

3rd of September.

The following days were plagued with ignored phone calls and messages left on read. Ellie had given you the cold shoulder; her silent treatment was supposed to be a form of punishment, but it didn’t last long. 

You explained everything, saying it was a misunderstanding, revealing that the guy named Jason had kissed you without your consent and that you had forcefully pushed him away. Ellie left hastily, missing the part where you had angrily stormed off after rejecting his advances. 

The auburnette felt a wave of reassurance, knowing that she was the only one for you, that your eyes were solely for her. She trusted you wholeheartedly.

And you were back in her life, in her house, in her bed, between her thighs. 

Your spit drenched her aching core, cascading over her engorged clit, the pink throbbing bud begging for your attention. The sight of her slick, swollen folds will never stop driving you crazy. Put on display for your eyes only, as sweet as the ripest fruit. Her pussy quivered beneath your gaze, and a sharp slap to her wet cunt echoed through the room, making her whimper, her hips stuttering and jerking, eyes flashing open to meet yours. “Look at this pussy… so fucking messy, baby,” you purred, a wicked grin curling at the corners of your lips. The look in your eyes was one of an insatiable beast, ready to take away from her once again.

“Stop fuckin’ teasing me,” Ellie whined, her hips bucking frantically against the warm palm nestled on her throbbing core. Her breath hitched as your thumb danced with her arousal, teasing her sensitive clit.  “Can’t take it anymore,” she choked out. Desperation began to etch itself into her captivating features as her fluffy, scarred brows contracted together. This subtle expression only seemed to heighten her already striking appearance, adding a sense of vulnerability that made your head spin. 

“Hm... Quit acting like a brat and hold still for me,” you spat, your gaze locked onto hers, “Beg for it, and I might just give it to you.”

Ellie’s heart hammered in her chest at your authoritative tone, her body responding instinctively to your dominance. A shiver coursed through her spine, and a flush of heat spread across her cheeks. She bit her lip, trying to hold still and control the urge to squirm under your touch, her breathing growing shallow with anticipation and need.

Her voice cracked as she begged, “Please.” One of her hands reached out, desperate to grab your free hand. But the freckled girl’s weak pleas met deaf ears; it wasn’t enough for you, she could do better. Her moss-green eyes pleaded with you as she watched your thumb trace small circles on her hip, keeping her in place.

Your lips brushed against the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, teasing her mercilessly, your touch intentionally calculated to drive her wild. You knew exactly how to play your cards right, how to play her like a finely tuned instrument, and it amused you how easy it was to reduce her to a quivering, whiny mess. But you relished in her simplicity, in how the smallest actions could ignite such a strong reaction from her.

“Please,” Ellie’s breaths came in small, shuddered gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each inhale and exhale. Her mind was filled with nothing but you and how you made her feel. “Please, please, I missed you.” Her words’ raspy, vulnerable tone was like music to your ears, pleasing your ego at the knowledge that she depended on you, that she was putty in your hands. Her vulnerability only highlighted how completely she was under your control, and the feeling was flattering and exhilarating. The auburnette submitted to you so easily, without questioning it or fighting back; it was cute, really. She let you play with her body however, whenever, and wherever you liked.

“Missed me, yeah?” You smirked at her, your voice dripping with confidence as you cooed softly. 

Ellie didn’t even need to confirm it to you. You could see how much she had missed you, how much she had craved your touch and sweet lies. The freckled girl melted in your arms the second you drove to her house after hours of begging to see you. She needed to see you, needed to feel you, kiss you, touch you. Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze met yours, your eagerness for her evident in every line and muscle of your body. She felt wanted, desired, and important whenever she was in your presence, and the feeling was addictive. Perhaps that was what she loved the most about being with you—the feeling of being so completely desired, so utterly needed. She found herself questioning if anyone had ever made her feel this way before. Certainly not her ex-girlfriends (or situationships); they paled in comparison to how you made her feel. You had the ability to make her feel like a teenager in love for the first time again, like a virgin exploring uncharted territory.

“Couldn’t get off without your help,” Ellie’s voice was soft and vulnerable as she confessed her weakness for you, the pout on her face almost making your heart lurch.  

“Such a fucking needy slut,” You chuckled dryly, your eyes focused intently on her, drinking in her every reaction as if she was the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen. She was sprawled out before you, all spread out and vulnerable, her core glistening with arousal and your spit, begging for your touch, yet not giving her what she craved the most.

“Please, I need you.” She pleaded one last time, her voice soft and desperate, her body trembling as your thumb began to tease her aching bud. A stifled moan escaped her lips as the pleasure washed over her, causing her to gasp in response. 

“You all good up there?” You taunted her, struggling to contain a small chuckle at her frustration. Her freckled face was flushed, her cheeks tinted with a blush that betrayed her embarrassment. You had barely even touched her, and yet she was already losing her shit, her body responding eagerly to your every caress. 

“Yeah, just…” The auburnette’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, trying with all her might to hold back the lewd noises that threatened to escape. 

“Just?” you prompted, your fingers continuing to move over her sensitive folds, feeling her slickness. You began to rub at her entrance, making her squirm and moan; she had been craving your touch and attention so much that it almost made her insane. “Fuck, look at you, baby girl.” you husked under your breath. “So needy for me.” It was downright lewd how drenched Ellie was for you, her pink pussy glistened with pearly precum, making your mouth water at the sight. It was like homemade chocolate chip cookies, the kind that could make anyone salivate, especially when they were still warm and the aroma of sweetness filled the air. She had the same exact effect on you. She tasted exquisite, and you just couldn't get enough, always craving more of her, just like she craved more of you.

Ellie’s breath hitched as your middle finger teased her entrance, moving painfully slow. She could tell you were doing it on purpose. You were never known for your patience, but you were taking your sweet time with her, making her feel every little movement. The sensations were overwhelming, and she knew you were doing it intentionally to drive her crazy. “M-more… nghh… fuck.” Her back arched in response, her hand gripping yours tightly as she desperately tried to push her hips further down onto your fingers.

Your eyes were glued to her starved cunt and the way your finger disappeared into her so easily, swallowing it shamelessly; her warm walls pulsated around your digit, and tiny, little puffs of breath escaped her lips as she struggled to hold herself together. Every breath she took strained with the effort to keep herself composed, her face a beautiful contradiction of desire and restraint. 

“You weren’t lying, huh? You really did miss me.” You chuckled, amused, the circles on her clit growing faster as your finger moved slowly in and out of her, maintaining a steady, teasing rhythm. 

“I wasn’t,” Ellie said breathlessly, as if a powerful force had drained all the breath away from her. 

You smirked at her confirmation; she depended on you as much as you depended on every little sound she let out for you, urging you to go on. It was what replayed in your head whenever you finger-fucked your own needy hole, clenching her name around your fingers. You had missed her so much. You missed the feeling of her cunt spasming around your fingers, the high-pitched and persistent mewls that came with her impending orgasm, the arch of her back, her abdomen tensing and contracting whenever you fucked her way too fast for her to keep up.

“What about the nudes I sent you, hm?” you questioned, your voice as soft as cotton, caressing all her senses like some melody that haunted her every dream.

Her breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a plea, a prayer for more. The sight of the freckled girl—so vulnerable, so open—stirred something primal within you. You watched how her body responded to your touch, how her skin flushed and her muscles tensed under your fingertips. The slick heat of her, the way she pulsated around your finger, was intoxicating. 

Ellie remembered the late nights, alone in her bed, your photos lighting up her screen. The way she’d trace the curves of your body with her eyes, imagining her hands in their place. The way she’d whisper your name, a litany of desire, as she plunged her fingers into her own wet heat, pretending it was you. But even then, it wasn’t enough. 

Those fantasies paled in comparison to reality. 

“Fucking slut… did you touch yourself thinking of me?” you murmured, your voice a low purr that sent shivers down her spine. “Did you imagine my fingers inside you, like this?”

Her response was a choked moan, her hips rocking against your hand, seeking more. You pressed a kiss to her thigh, your breath hot against her skin, savoring the way she writhed under your touch. 

She gasped as you added another finger, complying with her silent request for more. “Needed m- ahhh… more than—” words failed her as you began to pump them in and out of her faster, her legs twitching each time you brushed that spongy spot inside her just to make her little brain go blank. What a brainless fucking whore.

“Than what? Finish your sentence, sweetheart. What do you need from me?” Your voice was a perfect and deadly mix of sultriness and honey sweetness.

“Needed you to fuck me,” Ellie’s voice turned whiny and high-pitched, sounding like she was about to cry. She sighed complacently when you slammed your fingers deeper inside her in response. She had truly been trying to get off to your pictures, your tits out of your black lacy bra for her to see, but it wasn’t enough. All she could think about was the aching absence of your touch and how desperately she longed to lay her dirty hands on your sacred body. It hit her then that she was utterly ruined, unable to get off without your assistance anymore; you had thoroughly spoiled her and her body, and her mind had been reprogrammed to crave you for every desire, however big or small. 

“Like this, yeah?” A frenetic nod was all you got in return. Your glistening fingers continued their relentless movements, and your thumb flicked her puffy clit.

Each pump drew a curse from her. Her breaths were shallow gasps punctuated by moans that seemed to come from the depths of her soul. You could feel her inner walls contracting around your fingers, her slick heat enveloping you in a way that made your own core ache. 

“Fuck… close?” Her response was a breathless sob, freckled body arching off the bed as her orgasm built, a storm gathering strength. You could see it in the way her muscles tensed, the way her breaths came faster, more erratic.

“Please,” she begged, barely more than a breathy whisper. “Please, I need—”

“I know, baby. I know.” Your thumb circled her clit with a newfound intensity, your fingers curling inside her just right, hitting her g-spot with precision. “Come for me.”

The auburnette’s eyelids fluttered shut and her head fell back into the soft embrace of her light blue pillow. You marveled at the expression of blissful ecstasy dancing across her face, watching her lips form incoherent words that echoed through the room. With a final, shuddering cry, she came apart, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. Her inner walls pulsed around your fingers, her juices coating your hand as you worked her through it, drawing out every last bit of pleasure, making every moment last longer, leaving her wholly spent and utterly satiated.

When all her nectar coated your fingers, you gently withdrew your digits, eager to taste her. The taste was rather divine, like nothing you had ever tasted, a taste uniquely hers. Something you couldn’t quite find anywhere else. “You taste delicious,” you commented with a sly smile.

Ellie was winded and her face glistening with a sheen of sweat, dilated pupils fixing on yours as she tried to catch breath, her parted lips letting puffs of air in and out, unevenly. “Do I?”

“Hmm-hmm,” you hummed, crawling on top of her and settling into her lap. She lazily wrapped her arms around your waist, her damp, freckled back sticking against the headboard as she sat up slightly. The soft sheets rustled beneath you, adding to the moment’s intimacy.

Your eyes locked, an intense connection sparking between you. Ellie’s gaze seemed to drown in your irises, captivated by every little sparkle, every shade and discolored spot. A stupidly soft smile spread across her face, as if she were staring at the most precious thing in her life. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this shared bubble of affection.

“You’re so pretty, y’know that?” Her voice was like a gentle whisper, with a hint of raspiness as she delicately tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Her touch sent a shiver down your spine.

You hummed at her words, a playful smirk curling your lips. “Yeah, I get that quite a lot.”

The auburnette scoffed in mock disbelief, her brows arching dramatically. “Oh really? Who dared to compliment my girl, hm?” Feigning jealousy, she pulled you closer by your waist. “Gonna have to beat them up,” she muttered sarcastically under her breath, her tone light and teasing.

You couldn’t help but giggle softly, the sound mingling with the moment’s warmth. Ellie’s playful protectiveness only made your heart swell more, and you leaned in, your foreheads touching. 

She pulled you flush against her, your bare chest sticking to hers, the sweat covering her body almost acting as a glue binding you together. Her face nestled into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent as she closed her eyes, leaving a trail of soft kisses along your skin.

“Hmm… what’re you doing?” you whispered, melting into her touch.

“Tryna make you feel good—can’t I make my favorite girl feel good?” Her voice was a hushed murmur against your neck, a blend of warmth and affection. A small, breathy laugh was all you could manage in response, tilting your head slightly to give her better access. Her hands wandered up and down your sides, leaving a tingling path in their wake.

“You sure your dad won’t be home anytime soon?” you asked, a hint of nervousness lacing your voice as you tried to pull away. Each time you leaned back, she’d draw you closer, unwilling to let go.

“He won’t be until tomorrow,” she muttered between the kisses she peppered along your neck, “Relax and let me take care of you.” Her lips slowly trailed up your jaw, finally capturing yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, pouring all her feelings into it. Her hands pulled you close with a hunger that spoke of a desire to absorb you, to make you a part of her very being.

Your eyes fluttered shut, arms wrapping around her neck as you lost yourselves in the kiss.

One of your hands found its way to her little bun, fingers playing and gently tugging at it. The kiss was slow and tender, a stark contrast to the usual fervor you shared. It felt as if the world around you had shifted, the atmosphere turning more intimate, echoing the same familiar yet foreign sensation that had enveloped you that afternoon in the shower.

A moan reverberated against the freckled girl’s lips, resonating like a tender symphony, compelling her to savor its melody, to capture it and make it her own. Yet, an insatiable yearning gnawed at her core, craving something deeper, something beyond the mere physical.

When you parted, breathless and hearts pounding in synchrony, the connection between your gazes transformed the moment into an eternal tableau. 

“Will you let me take control this time?” Ellie mumbled, her voice soft as silk, her words a delicate caress that brushed against your senses like the first light of dawn. A smile played on her perfect, heart-shaped lips, a subtle curve that promised both mischief and tenderness.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re a pillow princess,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your mouth, the playful jab rolling off your tongue with ease.

Ellie’s eyes sparkled with amusement, softly gasping as if you’d just said the most outrageous thing. "I am not!" she protested, her jaw dropping in a show of mock indignation, though the laughter in her eyes gave her away.

“Are so,” you shot back, not missing a beat.

She shook her head, a pout forming as she defended herself, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and a touch of longing. “You never let me take control,” she countered, eyebrows arching as she tried to make her point.

“As if you’ve ever tried,” you quipped, your smirk widening, knowing exactly how to push her buttons.

“I did try, you just never let me,” she insisted, her tone soft yet pointed, like she was stating an undeniable truth. “You always push me down and do whatever,” she added, her words tinged with just the right amount of accusation.

“Maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” you challenged, the playful edge in your voice unmistakable as the banter continued to flow between you, each word filled with barely contained desire.

Her brows shot up, eyes gleaming with the thrill of the challenge. “Oh, is that so?” Ellie smirked, accepting the unspoken dare. Without missing a beat, she shifted you onto her thigh, her hands firm but gentle as she guided you, ensuring that her thigh was perfectly placed between your own.

“Is that it? You want me to ride your thigh?” you chuckled, a playful glint in your eyes as the absurdity of the situation hit you, making you bite back a laugh.

“C’mon, cowgirl, show me your moves,” she teased, her tone lighthearted, yet there was an undeniable heat beneath her words. Her hands guided your hips, encouraging you to move against her, the friction deliciously teasing, her comical words pulling a soft laugh from you.

“Cowgirl?” you echoed, amusement threading through your voice as your hands found their place on her shoulders for balance. Slowly, you began to move, a back-and-forth rhythm building, her toned thigh pressing against your most sensitive spot.

“Well, I don’t have a strap yet, so…” the redhead offered with a playful shrug, her nonchalance almost comical in its delivery.

“Yet?” you repeated, your eyebrow arching as curiosity piqued, the simple word holding a world of possibilities.

“Mhm, yet,” she confirmed with a sly smile, her hands tightening on your hip bones, pressing you down onto her thigh with just the right amount of pressure. The heat of her skin against your wetness sent a shiver up your spine, her own breath hitching at the intimate contact. 

That’s why she never took control—because, as much as she wanted to, you made her weak in the knees, her heart race, and her breath catch in her throat. 

As you rocked against her, a muffled whimper escaped your lips, a sound she drank in like the sweetest melody, and for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but your breathless sighs, your shared laughter, and the electric tension between you, growing hotter with every passing second.

“Does it feel good, yeah?” Ellie whispered, her face so close to yours that your breaths mingled, a shared warmth in the small space between you.

“Yeah, you feel good,” you murmured back, her green eyes utterly captivated by the rhythm of your hips as they rolled against her. You didn’t need her to guide you, every movement was instinctual, as natural as breathing. Her breath caught in her throat, almost as if she were the one trying to get off on your thigh, mesmerized by the glistening trail you left behind. 

“Fuck, look at that,” she breathed out, her voice thick with awe and desire.

Immaculate mewls spilled from your lips as her hands tightened on your hips, urging you to move faster, her fingers digging into your skin like she never wanted to let you go. “Just like that… atta girl,” the red-brown-haired girl encouraged, her words a soothing balm that only stoked the fire burning in your belly.

You leaned into her, your breasts pressing against her chest, your face nuzzling into the crook of her neck, seeking her out like a lifeline. Ellie responded in kind, her lips finding the beauty marks on your shoulders, kissing them as if tracing an invisible constellation only she could see. Your breathy moans, warm and desperate, hit the back of her neck, sending shivers cascading down her spine, weakening her resolve with each shaky exhale.

“You feel so good,” you purred in her ear, your voice sweet yet intoxicating, like honey laced with something dangerous. Your breath tickled that sensitive spot behind her ear, goosebumps erupting on her skin as butterflies danced wildly in her stomach. Feeling your heat seep into her, feeling you so close, so alive against her—she knew she’d never get enough of you.

“So does your pussy... all wet for me,” she rasped out, pulling you even closer, as if trying to merge your bodies into one. Your ragged breathing was like music to her ears, each pant and whimper a testament to how perfectly she was taking care of you. You continued to grind against her thigh, the tension in your lower abdomen coiling tighter with each roll of your hips, your clit moving in a maddening rhythm that made you whimper against her freckled skin.

“Fuck…” you breathed out, the word slipping from your lips like a prayer. “All wet for you,” you echoed absentmindedly, the urgency in your movements growing, driven by the mounting pressure, each second pulling you closer to the edge. Your fingers tangled in her red hair, tightening as your eyes fluttered shut, your breaths growing more erratic. 

Watching you ride her like this was the hottest thing Ellie had ever seen. It made her pulse quicken and her thoughts spiral into fantasies—fantasies of you riding her strap instead, making you tremble like a leaf, scream her name in ecstasy. She wondered if your sinful moans and cries would haunt her dreams every night; it seemed like a plausible fate.

“Mine… alllll mine,” she murmured in your ear, her hands tracing your sides with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment, holding you as if you were something precious and fragile, something that could shatter at any moment. 

Your soft gasps were like a tantalizing torture, making her sage-hued eyes roll back in bliss. You were so addictive, and she was like an addict, desperate for every sound, every breath you gave her. “Hmm, yeah,” you whispered breathlessly back, your voice mindless yet so full of emotion, causing her heart to flip and twist in ways she never thought possible.

Ellie gently cupped your chin, turning your face toward hers, never once stopping the hypnotic roll of your hips. Her thumb pressed lightly against your chin, holding you there, your eyes locked onto hers, sharing a silent conversation only the two of you could understand.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” she husked, her words like a spell, and you were powerless against them. Your gaze fell to her lips, mesmerized by the way they formed each tender word. She leaned in, kissing you softly but with a passion that ignited every nerve in your body. It was strange and new, yet it felt like something that was always meant to happen. 

Her freckled arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, and your arms looped around her neck, holding her as if letting go would mean losing everything. Your hips never stopped moving, the rhythm growing more frantic, your ragged breaths mingling, creating an orchestral piece of pure, unfiltered desire.

And then, the tension inside you snapped, sending shockwaves through your body. It was an explosion, not just of pleasure, but of everything Ellie had tried to keep buried, every emotion you had stirred up in her. You pulled away from the kiss, gasping for air, both from the intensity of your climax and the kiss that had stolen your breath away. Your damp foreheads pressed together, her eyes boring into yours, one of her hands trailing over your body, touching you with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, Ellie…” Your voice cracked and trembled, a raw, visceral expression of the overwhelming pleasure that had just consumed you.

“I love you.” Three words, so simple and yet so difficult to say out loud. Ellie hadn’t realized she’d let them slip out until your movements halted, a look of confusion veiling your face. 

The sound of heavy breathing—the aftereffects of your activity—filled the room. You were still trying to recover, your body still trembling with euphoria, and the words had become lost in the maelstrom of the intense orgasm. Ellie’s heart felt like a wild animal, a gazelle on the plains of the Serengeti, drumming relentlessly against her ribcage as she waited for your response, anxiously anticipating what you would say next, the tension in the air thick like the humidity in a dense rainforest.

“What?” You asked the question in a meek, quiet voice, your breathing harsh and labored. It was as if life had drained from your face, leaving only a shell of shock and disbelief behind. 

There was absolute silence in the air, everything frozen in that moment. Ellie couldn’t even hear her heartbeat; it felt like time had come to a standstill. Everything seemed to move either unbearably slowly or excruciatingly fast, leaving her overwhelmed and out of control.

“Uh… I—” Ellie’s words stumbled and stuck in her throat as she tried to repeat the three simple words again. She could feel a palpable shift in the air around you, a barrier going up between you despite your physical closeness. 

For a brief moment, vulnerability flickered across your face, your eyes bare and exposed to her gaze, as though you had let your guard down and allowed her to see through you. But the mask quickly returned, your features hardening once more. You slowly withdrew from her thigh, sitting beside her instead, exhaling deeply, a look of disbelief etched on your face. The cinnamon-haired girl watched as your lips parted and your eyelids fluttered shut, knowing that you were trying to make sense of her confession and formulate a response. She held her breath, hoping you would tell her that you felt the same, that you longed for a serious relationship and were ready to take that next step together. But the words that slipped out of your mouth were the opposite of what she was expecting, leaving her heart sinking in her chest.

“I can’t.” Your head shook slightly, a nonverbal “no” that sent a shiver down Ellie’s spine. Her heart plummeted, as though it had leaped off the edge of a towering cliff only to smash into a million pieces upon impact. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and the air was knocked from her lungs as the reality of your rejection sank in. 

“Can’t what?” Her voice sounded hoarse and strained as she somehow managed to speak, her forest-green eyes clouded with the beginnings of tears as she fixated on your bare back, watching with trepidation as you quickly and almost frantically dressed, one piece of clothing after another being pulled on.

Your body momentarily froze as you searched your mind for the right words, an explanation to fill the terrible silence. But you came up empty, your mind consumed by a rising panic, numbing your thoughts and leaving you speechless. You spoke in a cold, sharp voice, your back still turned towards her, “Do this.” The air between you was heavy with tension and despair, your emotional state written clearly on your face, even if she couldn't see it directly.

“Wha- I... but…” Ellie struggled to articulate her thoughts, her mind grappling with conflicting emotions and confusion. Each attempt to form a coherent question or sentence ended in a frustrating tangle of words. The powerful connection that had enveloped her just moments before had vanished, leaving her bewildered and lost in its absence. How was a shift like that possible? Did you not feel it too?

“I don’t understand,” Her voice quivered and cracked as she forced the words out, her body rigid and her muscles tense as she fought to keep the tears at bay. She knew she couldn’t show any vulnerability in front of you, couldn’t let you see how much this was hurting her. Maybe it was just fear getting in the way, maybe there was still a chance for her to sway your decision by talking it out, to make you change your mind. The freckled girl couldn’t shake the feeling that she was trapped in a surreal nightmare, as if none of this was real. She had just bared her soul to you, trusted you with her innermost thoughts and feelings—things she had never shared with anyone else—and now she was consumed by a sense of violation, as if she had exposed too much of herself and in doing so, made herself vulnerable and annoying. She felt disgusted with herself, like she had crossed a line and done something wrong, leaving an acrid taste in her mouth.

“It can’t work,” Your voice was calm, detached, and filled with distance. The redhead watched as you pulled on your shirt, your gaze fixed on the wall of her room, where wrinkled space posters hung. Your composure was icy and uncaring, as if you had been waiting impatiently for the right moment to destroy the fragile bubble of illusion she had constructed with your lies. 

Her eyes roamed your face, searching desperately for a trace of the affection she had felt before, but all she saw was an emotionless mask. Her mind whirled, trying to make sense of the abrupt shift in your demeanor. Every ounce of her being longed to reach out and pull you back, to force you to see what you were throwing away. But she was paralyzed, rooted in place by the weight of your words. She had bared her soul to you, and now she was left exposed, raw, and broken.

The silence in the room thickened, growing heavy and oppressive like a massive storm cloud preparing to let loose. It was a stifling stillness, pressing down on both of you, forcing the air from your lungs and leaving each breath shallow, each word unspoken, lost in the thick atmosphere. Ellie’s forest-green, glassy eyes flicked to you, a desperate pleading in her gaze, like a sailor stranded at sea hoping to spot a flicker of a distant lighthouse, a guide through the dark waters of her impeding breakdown. But your gaze remained distant, fixed on a horizon only you could see, your movements deliberate, devoid of the tenderness that once made her believe in the magic between you.

“…Why?” Her voice was delicate and fragile, barely audible above a whisper. It trembled like a leaf in the wind, “Why can’t it work? We’re so good together. I thought—”

“Oh, please.” The venom in your voice lashed out, sharp and biting, each word dripping with contempt. “Don’t act like you don’t know. This was never supposed to be anything serious. You should have known better.” The words left your lips with a hollow ring, the warmth that the auburnette once craved in your voice now frozen over, an icy detachment that chilled her to the bone.

Tears gathered and spilled over in her eyes, creating a blurry haze that distorted the world around her and your form. The room seemed to whirl before her as her heart crumbled under the burden of your apathy. She struggled to comprehend how you could be so careless. “But-” Her voice faltered, a delicate whisper that fractured under the pressure of the painful reality she found herself grappling with. You had ensnared her like a tarantula, trapping her in an intricate web of deceit and manipulation from which there seemed to be no escape.

You sighed, the sound heavy with impatience, rolling your eyes as if the sound of her heart breaking was nothing more than an inconvenience. “God, Ellie, do you really not get it? It was just sex. Fun while it lasted, but nothing more. I can’t believe you got so attached.” Your words were sharp like swords, each one slicing through the fragile, translucent dreams she had so painstakingly woven around you, leaving deep, bleeding gashes in the delicate fabric of her hopes and illusions. She had been so stupid. “Just a summer fling, an experiment,” You added casually, your tone flat and uncaring.

Ellie’s heart crumbled further, the sharp edges of your words cutting deeper than she ever thought possible. Each syllable felt like salt combined with the strongest alcohol ever on an open wound, the reality of your apathy sinking in. “You don’t mean that,” She pleaded with you, her words carrying the weight of desperate hope, as if grasping onto a rope that could keep her from drowning in the harsh reality. “We were so good together. I felt it. I know you did, too.”

Your lips curled into a sneer, a cruel twist that mocked her naivety. “You really are naive, aren’t you? There was never anything between us, Ellie. I was just bored, and you were convenient,” you scoffed, the derision in your voice felt like a kick in her stomach, the emotional pain becoming physical. “And easy, you were so easy… and so fucking gullible.” The smirk that followed was a bitter slash across her soul, a cruel reminder of how carelessly you had toyed with her emotions. Of how carelessly you had toyed with plenty of people before her. This was a mere game to you, and you couldn’t give two fucks of all the broken pieces you always left behind. 

How could someone so incredibly beautiful and captivating exude such emptiness within? 

Salty tears streamed down her freckled cheeks, her chest tightening with a tumultuous mix of heartbreak and disbelief. The weight of your betrayal felt like a ton of bricks, crushing the hope she had clung to so desperately. You had never been any different from what the others claimed. “But I love you,” she repeated, her voice cracking under the strain of her agony. “Does that mean anything to you?”

You laughed, a sound lacking any warmth or joy, more like the cold echo of a cavernous emptiness inside you. “Honestly? No, it doesn’t. Did you think this was going to turn into some grand romance? Come on, grow up.” It shocked the auburnette how you could effortlessly shift from being warm and kind to completely cold and unsympathetic. It was like watching you switch personalities as easily as changing costumes in a theater, all to your convenience. Adapting and shapeshifting to your liking. “Love doesn’t exist. It’s just a fairytale for people who can’t handle reality.”

Ellie shook her head as if trying to shake off the unfiltered reality you were laying before her, throwing at her in such a callous manner that it left her breathless. Tears cascaded down like a relentless downpour, drenching the delicate, freckled canvas of her flushed cheeks. She held on desperately to the fading remnants of what she believed to be true, “I—I thought we had something real,” She was barely whispering, her voice fragile and on the verge of completely breaking down. Her bottom lip quivered, and that pouty expression on her face tugged at your heartstrings, making it hard to go through with this. But you knew it was something you had to do. It was necessary.

“You thought wrong,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, as if casting aside a trivial matter. “And if you had any sense, you’d have figured that out by now. Get real. I never promised you anything beyond what we had.”

Ellie stood up, her legs trembling as she tried to steady herself against the emotional hurricane tearing through her. “I trusted you. I opened up to you. And now you’re just discarding me like I’m nothing?”

You nonchalantly lifted your shoulders in a dismissive gesture, causing her stomach to clench as if the bond you once shared was now as inconsequential as a discarded piece of trash carried away by the wind. “I didn’t ask you to fall for me.”

She stared at you, her eyes desperately searching yours for any trace of the person she thought she had come to understand, but you weren’t there. “I thought you were different.”

“Well, I’m not. I never claimed to be something I’m not.” Your heartrending words landed the critical strike, causing her to lock away her pain deep within. It festered there, leaving behind deep, ugly scars. She wondered if she would ever be able to heal from the emotional wounds you inflicted. Not even when she broke up with her ex-girlfriend, Cat, did she feel this way. 

“You know what?” Ellie’s voice quivered with raw emotion, yet remained steadfast and resolute. The ache in her heart was gradually being consumed by a smoldering, intense anger, “You’re right. I should have seen this coming. But don’t you dare pretend like you didn’t play a part in this. You let me believe something that wasn’t real.” Her voice quivered with emotion, the barely contained anger struggling to hold back the flood of tears that threatened to engulf her beautiful moss-colored eyes once more. “You said you needed time, that eventually, you’d feel ready to…” She halted mid-sentence, realization sinking in. The promises she had once clung to, the words you had whispered in sweet moments of closeness and intimacy, all of it was nothing but a frail illusion you had woven around her to shield her from the bitter and ugly truth. You had never been genuine, always sidestepping, always evading her attempts at sincere connection.

“I never said that,” you stated in a chilly, detached manner, completely lacking any trace of the warmth typically associated with the girl she was infatuated with. It seemed absurd to her. After all, it was still you, but you were revealing your true self. This was the same true self that everyone had cautioned her about, the central figure in all the rumors she had heard. They weren’t falsehoods. They were all painfully real. It was a shame that she was only realizing this now, after falling for your ass.

“Don’t you dare pull that shit on me,” The auburnette growled, her finger pointed at you in an accusatory manner, and she struggled to mask the hurt that was tearing her apart piece by piece.

You averted your gaze, unwilling to meet her eyes any longer; you knew that her words held the truth. You had led her on, selfishly used her to fulfill your own needs and desires, without a care in the world for the trauma and pain you’d leave in her. But deep down, beneath the cold facade you maintained, you couldn’t deny that this moment was tearing you apart as well. Even though you tried to fool yourself, to convince yourself that you didn’t care about her at all, you knew in your heart that it was a lie. You couldn’t ignore the sharp pang of guilt and regret that tugged at your chest like a persistent child pleading for attention. Your heart clamored for acknowledgment, drowning out the rational thoughts, urging you to stay and face the situation rather than retreat like a coward. It swore that things would be different this time, that she could be trusted. But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it.

“Whatever. I’m done here.” You walked to the door, pausing for a fleeting moment. Turning back to her, your eyes seemed empty. Your voice sounded almost mechanical, having become accustomed to this repetitive cycle, trapped in an endless loop. You found someone new, they became attached, and just as you started to feel something, you would withdraw. “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. We’re done here.”

Ellie’s breath caught in her throat as your words sank in. The tears the auburnette had been holding back spilled over, but she forced herself to stand tall, her voice trembling as she struggled to keep herself composed. “Trust me, I won’t. I don’t ever want to see you again,” she promised, trying to sound firm and unaffected, but both of you knew it was far from the truth. She longed to run after you, to plead for you to stay, to not leave her, but she refused to give you the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable and in desperate need of you. You had already seen enough of her; she had already made herself look like a fool yet that didn’t stop you from stomping on her fragile heart.

“Good.”

And with that, you were gone, leaving behind only the ghost of what could have been, and the shattered pieces of her heart, leaving her alone with the echo of her own heartbreak. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound reverberating through the silence.

Ellie collapsed onto the bed, clutching a fluffy pillow to her chest, tears cascading down her face. The room seemed to chill, the absence of your presence amplifying the feeling of loneliness. She buried her face in the softness of the pillow, her tears leaving damp patches on the fabric. It was as if a part of her had been forcibly wrenched away, leaving a raw, throbbing emptiness that felt impossible to soothe. She clutched at her chest, the emotional anguish translating into a physical ache. Breathing became a struggle as her chest tightened, making it hard to draw in a full breath.

Hours passed in a haze of anguish and despair, her tears eventually tapering off, leaving her feeling empty and exhausted. She lay there, fixating on the stars plastered on her ceiling. The weight of your absence felt like the entire solar system had collapsed upon her, crushing her under the immensity of her grief and sorrow. She was pinned down, each star on her ceiling twinkling mercilessly, mocking her pain with their cheap radiant light.

She reached for her phone, her fingers quivering with a mixture of longing and pain as she typed out a message she knew she could never send: “I miss you already.”

Each keystroke felt like a betrayal of her own heart, an act of masochism as the words coalesced on the screen. The message lingered on the screen, an undelivered declaration of heartbreak, a painful confession trapped within the confines of a glowing screen.

She loathed herself for her own weakness, her own vulnerability towards you. She desperately craved a person who didn’t have the slightest care in the world for her, someone who could so easily discard her without a second thought. She could almost hear Dina’s voice in her head, scolding her for being so fucking stupid and naive, telling her to get her shit together and forget about you altogether—maybe after suggesting to burn your whole house down. But her heart ached with a yearning that couldn’t be so easily dismissed, leaving her feeling lost, pathetic, and wholly powerless. She knew deep down that if you came back she’d be welcoming you with open arms, like none of this had happened.

The words etched on the screen seemed to sneer at her, a cruel reminder of her impotence. She couldn’t change your mind and most importantly… she couldn’t change you. 

With a trembling hand, she erased the message, then tossed the phone aside, curling up into a tight ball on the bed. Exhaustion eventually took over, pulling her into a restless sleep. But even in her dreams, she was haunted by you, a phantom pain that followed her even in the realm of sleep, leaving her tormented and unable to truly escape reality.

The next morning, the sun beamed through the blinds, slicing through the room like a laser, bright and unforgiving. Ellie dragged herself upright in bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion bearing down on her like a heavy blanket. Every part of her felt burdened, as if the weariness had seeped into her bones, settling there as a constant reminder of the emptiness that had taken root in her heart. You had completely destroyed her and she wished she could bring herself to hate you for it, but she couldn’t; no matter how hard she tried.

She moved slowly, each action a deliberate fight against the numbness that threatened to overtake her. Getting dressed felt like going through the motions of a life she no longer recognized. The world outside her window seemed darker, as if the sun itself had dimmed in response to her loss. She knew she had to keep going, force herself to take one step, then another, even though every movement felt like trudging through thick, unforgiving mud.

She knew she had to erase you from her mind, from every little corner where you had once lived. The freckled girl stopped showing up to work, leaving Dina to be the one to tell you she was quitting. It was childish, she knew that, but the idea of facing you, of seeing you, was too much to bear. She knew that if she saw you, she would crumble, her resolve breaking as she begged you to come back, to love her back the way she had believed you once did. Beg you to let her hold you, in her arms, where you belonged. But you didn’t belong to her—if you had, you wouldn’t have left.

Each day that passed by, the redhead was left alone to wrestle with her heartache, a silent and insidious companion that had latched onto her like a parasite, feasting on the very essence of her being. It gnawed at her soul, leeching away her energy and joy, wrapping its cold, inky tendrils around her heart, holding her in an unbreakable ever present embrace of sorrow and despair. 

Her friends noticed the shift in her, the way her laughter had disappeared, replaced by a hollow silence. She seemed distant, as if she was there in body but absent in spirit, a ghost of the girl she used to be. 

No one knew what was going on inside her mind, no one except Jesse. He had seen the signs, had heard the unspoken words in her silence, but he kept it to himself, pretending not to know what had caused the light in her eyes to fade. Even when Dina couldn’t stop worrying about Ellie, but Jesse held his tongue, protecting the secret of her heartbreak. It was up to Ellie to talk about it to her friends—if she ever wanted to; he was certain that she eventually would, she just needed time.

Even Joel noticed the change in his daughter, the way she no longer found joy in the little things that used to make her smile. The eggs and bacon he made her in the mornings went untouched, her chair at the table often empty. She no longer filled the house with her endless chatter, no longer picked on him for his dad jokes. Instead, she withdrew into herself, isolating in her room or disappearing for hours at a time, leaving him to wonder where she was, who she was with. He had tried to find out, but all his searching had led to dead ends. His sweet girl had become a stranger, slipping away from him, slowly.

Summer, once Ellie’s favorite season, had become a cruel reminder of what she had lost. The warm breeze that used to fill her with a sense of freedom now felt like a mockery, a reminder of the momentary happiness that had slipped through her fingers like grains of sand. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to love summer again, not when it was tainted with memories of you. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever get over what happened, the way you had reduced her to nothing while your life carried on, untouched by what you left behind.

She didn’t dare message you. She wasn’t that stupid. Pride held her back, even though the urge to reach out burned like an ember inside her, refusing to die out. You had told her not to, and she had promised she wouldn’t. And so, she kept her distance, even though a part of her hoped you would break the silence. But you never did, and neither did she.

Instead, Ellie focused on erasing every trace of you from her life. She gathered everything that reminded her of you, every small item that held a piece of your memory, and stuffed them into a box. She couldn’t bring herself to throw it away, but she needed them out of sight, out of reach. They were relics of a past she needed to forget.

The auburnette collapsed onto her bed, pulling her sketchbook into her lap. The pages felt heavy in her hands, filled with drawings that now only brought her pain. With a deep breath, she began tearing them out, each rip a cathartic release of the anger that had been building up like a lego tower right beneath her apathetic surface. Sketches of you, peaceful in sleep, your face lit with a smile or lost in thought, fell around her like leaves in autumn, each one a reminder of how deeply she had loved you. How deeply she had fooled herself.

Ellie’s hands paused as she reached the last page. There, among the sketches of you, was a drawing she hadn’t made. It was of her asleep, her features soft and unguarded. She recognized your handwriting at the bottom of the page, the words you had scrawled there while she was sleeping in her bed, unaware of your restless state that night.

“You’re such a creep. But a cute one. :P P.S. your snoring sounds like a horde of angry, sleep-deprived dinos.”

The storm of anger that had driven her to tear apart her sketchbook faded, replaced by a wave of sadness so intense it took her breath away. Her fingers traced the lines of the drawing, the tenderness in each stroke, the way you had captured her as you saw her, not as she saw herself. You have made her beautiful. You had seen something in her that she had never seen in herself. Her vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling onto the page, dampening the paper. She hadn’t even realized she was crying until a sob broke free, wracking her body with the force of her grief.

She slammed the sketchbook shut, tossing it aside as if it could rid her of the memories that clung to her like thorns. Her hands flew to her face, muffling the cries that echoed in her chest, the screams she was too broken to release. She buried her face in her palms, her body shaking with the effort of holding herself together, even as everything inside her was falling apart.

Ellie wished she would never cross paths with you again, the one who had so cruelly ripped her heart apart with the precision of a surgeon and the callousness of a butcher. You had done it without hesitation, without a second thought, leaving her to pick up the jagged pieces of what was once whole. She had begged and prayed, whispered desperate pleas to every deity that would listen, hoping beyond hope that the universe would grant her one mercy: that she would never have to see you again.

But Cupid, in all his twisted irony, had other plans.

To be continued…

[babybinko]

My second batch of venture bros genderbends are finally done! :D [first set here]

PLEASE LOOK UNDER THE CUT!!! I made all these nice drawings and doodles of them and I want people to see them without this post being super long! :') [My thoughts on the designs and doodles will be under the cut as well]

Okay NOW I'm going talk about my thought process on some of these:

Baby Rusty: I love the baby Rusty, the frilly socks and sleeves were a must. I actually drew her with the original set of genderbends but I turned off her layer and forgot about her 💀

Jonas Jr: not much to say about her, I tried to make her like Rosie the Riveter. Her little bandana has the Venture logo on it :)

Jonas Sr: I wanted her to be a hot bitch, her outfit is maybe a little scandalous for the time era they were in but I think it fits, canon Jonas is a whore. I think everybody would want her and that every celebrity, politician, and anybody with any power would chase after her so badly.

Blue Morpho: I made her so incredibly slay. I fucking love her outfit, I found the inspo for the outfit on Pinterest but I changed it up a bit. Also her gun has the bayonetta butterfly wings on it as a charm because I HAD TO.

Colonel Gentleman: Not a lot to say, I wanted to give her like horse riding esque boots and I gave her a purple flower cause she likes the ladies. I know generally WLW flowers are Violets and Lavender but I wanted to draw a rose so, Purple rose compromise <3

Dr.Boyfriend 2: With my last round Dr.Boyfriend was the only one people had complaints with. I think people wished he was more Masculine and I agree but if I switched up the design too much it wouldn't look like Dr.Girlfriend. I hope giving him armor and making him look like a knight helped him look more masc. I made the sheer wings cross over his chest to make it look like it was holding up the shoulder armor. Also his guild book is insanely high quality because I was procrastinating drawing his armor.

Goofy and Goober (Watch and Ward): I think they ended up really cute, I tried to make their hair colors close to Doc and Jacksons since I heard they are supposed to be like their "main" self inserts. With Ward I had a really specific idea for her hair, I kept thinking about this haircut from my sims and had to do it. It might be hard to see but her ponytail holders have skull charms on them. I also purposely gave them both some sort of ponytail hairstyle so they would match but be slightly different :) (They are absolutely prank calling or trolling their clients on that phone btw)

Shoreleave: OH MY GOD I LOVE SHORELEAVE. I kept turning her folder back on just to keep looking at her when I was drawing the other characters. She is so captivating to me, she looks so soft and human. I want to take a bite out of her thigh. My biggest inspo for her was Cammy from Street Fighter, I felt like her dressing a bit skimpy works for her since canon Shoreleave kinda does. The girls out for the girls.

Alchemist: I love her design so much too. I wanted her to look like some kind of nun or priestess. She looks like if a Zelda fire temple was a person. I kinda gave her like a weird little hime cut under the hood. Also I put the Triad logo on all three of their designs (+ Triana).

Jefferson: Had a lot of fun with her, I didnt change her design much from canon though so there's not much to say. I did give her more flared pants though. Drawing her hair was a really fun change of pace, I very rarely get to draw textured hair.

College Rusty and Monarch Drawing: I love this one, Monarch turned out so hot dude. You can tell what character I like more LMFAO. I made rusty very obnoxious 80s while keeping the colors of the original college rusty outfit. Monarch kind of looks like postal dude but its fine because shes slay.

Hereditary Venture Family Dinner Drawing: This was one of the first drawings I started but the second to last one I finished. I wanted to draw the family doing something together but I think I really truly just wanted to draw Dermott again. 😭 Nobody has said anything if they noticed but I did give hatred the shirt from these edits. (I believe the one on the left is from reddit and the one on the right is by SquashFold on Twitter)

Dermott piercing Dean's ears drawing: Even though its messy its in the top 3 favorites I did, It was also the last one I did. I just love the idea of Dermott giving goth Dean at home ear piercings. At first I didn't know if I wanted to make Dermott giving her piercings at the mall where she works or at home but the mall idea was too much work for a last minute sketch. Dermott is so mean older sister who shoplifts and works at the mall.

Drug bathroom drawing: Another one of my favorites, its based off a specific deleted scene from Invisible Hand of Fate where Pete and Rusty talk at the bar but Pete comes out of the bathroom sniffling at the start. I love the way I drew Pete pushing the hair out of her face and both of their expressions.

Bdsm 21 drawing: Okay first of all, The little devil Monarch was so cute I was screaming, crying, and throwing up while drawing her. I fucking love her, shes the smallest part of the image but my favorite. I also am quite fond of the bdsm 21.

Quizgirls Pete and Billy: I tried looking up Vanna White dresses to base Pete's outfit off of but I couldn't find one that Pete would actually wear so I just had to make shit up. Billy's design is really basic but the bow in her hair is actually from one of my rejected main Billy genderbends.

Me and The Bestie: I put a lot of effort into this one for no reason. Literally the moment I saw Jonas in the problem machine I thought he should be made of like blue slime. When I was working on this I kept thinking about Momopatchi's Hatsune Microbe drawing so this Jonas was definitely inspired by that. I gave Jonas makeup because she was having a party movie night on gargantua and I felt like she would still have makeup on thats like completely fucked up and deteriorating on her face after many many years. Vendata's outfit was partially based on Marguerite Chapman's from Flight to Mars, never seen it but I was looking up old sci-fi movie costumes to work with and I thought it would look good :)

[oskea93]

✶ Whiskey (2) ✶ - John “Bucky” Egan x OC - Masters of the Air fandom - Multi-chaptered story.

⚠ Warning: Rating 18+ ⚠ Chapter warning: Sexual content, period sexism, spousal belittling, cursing Words: 4353 A/N: Hello again! First off, I just want to say thank you so much for the love and support y'all have shown this story!! You guys are amazing and you have no idea how much I appreciate you guys! So, with this chapter, we get to meet Dominik and Marigold - the husband and MIL. These two will have major impacts on our OC's life and at times their treatment towards her will not be very nice. We also get to meet the most important person in our OCs life... The bright side, we will see our OC spending time with a certain Major 🥵. This story is just getting started and I promise that Mr. Egan and all the fabulous men of the 100th will come to light in the upcoming chapter. It's gonna be a wild one! If you would like to be added to the tag list, just comment your username ☺︎

“I don’t see why you need to accompany your husband to such a location – full of men waiting for their chance to die.”

Rolling my eyes, I kept my mouth shut as my mother-in-law moved around the room. She had volunteered herself to accompany Dom and I to England – stating that she needed to be here for the sake of her granddaughter.

“What’re you expected to do while he’s working? Just longue around and make eyes with all the soldiers – give them blue balls so they can go back to their barracks and dream about you?”

A smile tugged at my face, “Somebody has to get them a little excited, Marigold.”

Her brows knitting together – unsure if I was being serious of not. “That’s what those pin-up women are for – you’re a married woman, Rachel. Married to one of the top colonels in the army – you don’t need to be strutting around like some old whore.”

Sighing, I pushed myself off the chair, her eyes watching me like the hawk she is. “Are you faithful to my son?” The question causing me to stop in my tracks. “You wouldn’t think about stepping out on him, would you?”

Her dark eyes bore into my soul, their intensity like a piercing gaze from the depths of the night. With each passing moment, I felt a shiver run down my spine, as if her gaze held the power to unravel the very core of my being. In that fleeting instant, the world around me seemed to fade away, leaving only her eyes, dark and mysterious, capturing my every thought and emotion in their enigmatic depths. “No –“My tone defensive. “Why ever would you think that?”

Feeling a mixture of frustration and resignation, she shrugged her shoulders, the weight of the moment causing her lips to press tightly together in a display of silent resolve.

“What gives you the idea that I would be unfaithful to Dominik? Because of what I said – that was a joke – they’re very popular nowadays.” Her back straightening at my bitter return.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure despite Mari's biting words. Our relationship had always been strained, but her sharp remarks never failed to sting.

"I understand your concern, Mari," I replied evenly, meeting her gaze. "But I'm not going to England to flirt with soldiers. I'll be there to support Dom and assist in any way I can. It's important for us to be together during his assignment."

Mari huffed, clearly not convinced. "Just be careful, Rachel. Men in uniform can be quite charming, but they're not to be trusted. Don't forget your responsibilities as a wife and a mother."

Her words echoed in my mind, stirring up a mix of frustration and resignation. I knew Mari meant well in her own way, but her traditional views often clashed with my more independent spirit.

"Again, I appreciate your concern, Mari," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I'll always prioritize my family above all else. You can trust me on that."

In that fleeting moment of our interaction, as her captivating eyes locked onto mine, a subtle yet unmistakable expression of doubt crept into her gaze. "I hope so, Rachel. You have a good husband and a beautiful daughter. Don't take that for granted."

In the intricate web of relationships that intertwined our lives, tensions simmered just below the surface, threatening to erupt at any moment. Marigold's disapproval of me seemed to stem from a place of deep-seated insecurity and a need to control the narrative surrounding her son's marriage.

From the very beginning of Dom and I’s relationship, Marigold had made it clear that she held certain expectations for the woman who would become her daughter-in-law. My lack of pedigree, my fiery red hair, and perceived lack of refinement were all points of contention for Marigold. In her eyes, I was an outsider, unworthy of her son's prestigious lineage.

The constant barrage of criticism and belittling remarks from Marigold had taken its toll on me, chipping away at my confidence and sense of self-worth. Despite my best efforts to prove her loyalty and devotion to Dominik, I found herself caught in a never-ending cycle of scrutiny and judgment.

As Marigold insinuated doubts about my fidelity and questioned my motives, I felt a surge of indignation rise within myself. The implication that I would betray Dominik, the man I loved, cut deep, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Yet, I understood that Marigold's insecurities and fears were driving her behavior, fueling her need to assert control over the situation.

The dynamics between myself and Marigold were fraught with unspoken tensions and power struggles, each woman vying for dominance in their own way. My defiance in the face of Marigold's criticisms and barbs hinted at an underlying strength and resilience that belied my outward appearance.

She lightly cleared her throat, the sound echoing in the opulent room. "Darling," she began, her voice smooth but with an underlying tension. A faint, almost imperceptible smile played on her lips, not quite reaching her eyes. "I know you would never hurt my son in such a fashion."

With deliberate grace, she slowly rose from her seat, her elegant movements betraying the subtle power she held. Her hand smoothed down the expensive fabric of her dress, erasing any hint of imperfection. "You're a very beautiful girl - woman," she remarked, her words laced with a mixture of compliment and observation.

Turning to face me fully, she continued, her gaze piercing yet enigmatic. "Those men at Thorpe Abbots haven't seen or been around a real woman in who knows how long - only the women that are working or the local townies." Her voice trailed off momentarily, her hands coming to rest gently on my arms. "It's going to be hard for them to resist you."

I regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as she pivoted back towards the chair, as if the weight of her words had dissipated as quickly as they had been spoken. I felt the urge to respond rising within me, but something in her demeanor made me hesitate, my words left unspoken.

As she settled back into her seat, a subtle yet unmistakable smugness crept into her expression, adding a layer of complexity to her otherwise composed facade. Her eyes met mine once more, a silent challenge lingering in their depths.

"Better get packing, darling," she remarked casually, the nonchalance in her tone belying the undercurrent of tension that hung in the air…

We lay in silence, the distant sounds of the bustling streets below providing a gentle background melody that filled the room. His touch, feather-light against the curve of my ribcage, sent a shiver of electricity racing through my body.

"Someone walking over your grave?" he remarked, a playful glint in his eyes as he traced patterns on my skin with his fingertips.

Resting my chin on his chest, our gazes locked in a shared moment of intimacy. "Excuse me?" I replied, a hint of curiosity in my voice.

He chuckled softly, the sound like music in the quiet room, as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from my face. "My pops used to say that when you get a cold chill, it means someone is walking on your grave." His words carried a touch of nostalgia and folklore.

Raising my eyebrows in amusement, I shook my head. "Can't say I've heard that one before."

As my left hand trailed down his chest, I noticed the cross necklace he wore, a simple yet meaningful charm that he kept close for protection. Taking the pendant between my thumb and index finger, I studied it briefly before placing it gently in the center of his chest, my fingers lingering over the cool metal.

"My mom gave it to me before I left," he explained, his voice tinged with emotion. "I'm not really a believer, but you need something to protect you out there."

Moved by his vulnerability, I began to share a piece of my own family history. "My grandmother was a God-fearing woman," I started, the memories of her devout faith flooding back. "She would attend church on Sundays and Wednesdays, unwavering in her devotion even in the face of adversity." A pang of sorrow touched my heart as tears threatened to well up in my eyes. "But when my Grandad fell ill, her faith wavered. She prayed for miracles as he lay dying, his lungs ravaged by years spent in the mines."

The weight of past grief hung heavy in the air between us, the shared stories weaving a bond of understanding and empathy that transcended words.

John's arm tightened around my waist; his unwavering attention focused on every word I spoke.

"After he passed away, she changed," I continued, a wistful smile playing on my lips as I reminisced. "She stopped praying, stopped going to church as often, stopped believing. My grandad was her entire world, her reason for everything. She used to tell my brother and me that God had led Grandad into her life." The warmth of nostalgia colored my voice as I shared the cherished memories.

"She would say that she prayed for God to send her a hard-working farm boy - one with dark hair and skilled hands." John's chest rumbled with laughter; his amusement palpable in the air between us. "And one day, it was as if he appeared out of the heavens, right at Sampson's Feed store across the street from her daddy's farm."

As I slowly rose from the bed, the sheet draped around my waist, I pulled my legs up to my chest, lost in the recollection. "She loved that man more than anything - perhaps even more than she loved God, I think."

The bed shifted as John pressed his chest against my back, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine.

"Have you ever felt that kind of love?" His whisper tickled my ear, his words laden with a depth of emotion.

Turning my head, our lips met in a soft, tender kiss, an unspoken connection weaving between us in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

"Does right now count?" I murmured between kisses, the warmth of our closeness enveloping us.

A smile played on John's lips as he pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well," he teased, gently guiding me into a lying position on the mattress, "you were certainly calling for him earlier."

We both laughed, the shared moment of levity breaking through any lingering tension. I wrapped my arms around his neck, our gazes meeting with a mix of affection and sincerity.

"You're so beautiful," He whispered, his words carrying a depth of feeling that stirred my heart.

My fingers tangled in his brown locks, finding their place at the nape of his neck. "As are you, John Egan." I replied, the unspoken bond between us growing stronger with each passing moment.

His lips met mine in a gentle manner, each light peck carrying a world of unspoken emotions, his hand tenderly caressing my cheek with a touch that spoke volumes. We lingered in that moment of quiet intimacy, the outside world fading into insignificance as we shared a silent connection that transcended words.

After a moment, he lifted himself up from the bed, leaving the sheet behind as he made his way to the curtained window. I watched as his back muscles moved beneath his skin, a silent display of tension and contemplation as he gazed out at the streets below. The sun had hidden behind the thickening clouds, casting the room into a dim twilight as the impending rain approached.

Quietly, I crawled out of the bed, the sheet slipping off my body as I closed the distance between us.

Instinctively, my arms wrapped around his mid-section, offering a comforting embrace. "Are you okay?" I whispered, pressing my lips against his back, seeking to convey my support through the simple contact of our bodies.

He let out a deep sigh, his body relaxing into my touch as his hands found their place atop mine. "You ever wonder if all of this is really worth it?" His voice held a weight of solemn reflection as he voiced the doubts that lingered in his mind. "All this killing and bombing - innocent lives lost every day, many of them unaware until it's too late." The heaviness of his words echoed the burdens he carried, the moral complexities of his actions weighing heavily on his conscience.

Listening to his inner turmoil, I felt a surge of empathy and understanding for the struggles he faced. "You can't beat yourself up about that, John," I spoke softly, offering reassurance in the face of his inner turmoil. "The choices you've made, the actions you've taken - they may be part of a larger conflict, but you have to remember the good you're fighting for, the lives you're trying to protect."

John and I barely knew one another, but even in the brief moments we shared, it was evident that the weight of war was bearing down heavily on him. His eyes, once bright with youthful vigor, now held a weariness that seemed to go beyond mere physical exhaustion. It was a weariness of the soul, a deep-seated fatigue born from the harrowing experiences he had endured on the battlefield.

"My pal Buck says the same thing," He remarked, a faint smile edging on his face as memories of their conversations flooded back. "He always told me to just worry about getting back home to Wisconsin – making sure our country and those helping us fight those German pricks win the battle – big or small."

As the rain began to drum against the windowpanes, a sense of shared vulnerability enveloped us, binding us together in a moment of shared empathy and support amidst the storm of uncertainty and doubt.

His hands fell from mine as he turned towards me, his eyes falling on my naked frame. The slightest hint of sadness could be seen in his irises. Without hesitation, I closed the gap between us, his callused hands reaching my thighs, bending down slightly as he hoisted me onto his hips. Our lips never separating, a muffled moan purred through my body as my back hit the wall next to the window. The cooling fall air that drifted in from the draft window was no match for the heat that coursed through my body as John’s touch lit a fire in and outside my body.

As our embrace deepened, the weight of the war seemed to momentarily fade away, replaced by a sense of raw connection and passion. In that fleeting moment, there was only the two of us, lost in a dance of desire and longing.

The world outside may have been engulfed in chaos and uncertainty, but within the walls of that room, time seemed to stand still. Each touch, each kiss, spoke volumes of unspoken emotions and desires. It was a moment of respite, a brief escape from the harsh realities of the outside world.

With the leverage from the wall, his hand made quick work as it moved between our bodies, his large fingers finding my clit, my hips responding as they moved against his touch.

“John, please.” My mouth latching onto his neck, an animalistic growl releasing from his body.

His paced quickened, “Tell me what you want.” His breath hot against my ear. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

My teeth biting down harder on his neck as my walls began to clench around his touch. “Goddammit, Rachel –“His words full of lust. “Tell me what you fucking want.”

The pleasure causing tears to form in my eyes, “Fuck me, John.” Out of breath. “Please just fuck me, please!” Without warning, his cock slammed into me. His lips harshly meeting mine, stifling the gasp that fell between our kiss.

The pace was fast – hard as our hips slapped against one another. His fingers digging into my sides as my nails dragged down his back, hard enough to pull away the first layer of skin.

“Harder.” I begged. “Oh God, please go harder!”

I cried out in pain as my back repeatedly hit the wall behind me – his cock swelling inside of me as we started to reach our climax.

The warm sensation soon flooded my core, the liquid rolling down my leg as his cock stayed buried inside of me. His lips peppering kisses along my collarbone as my fingers floated through his hair as we both regained our breath.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to make it back to the base.”

“And why’s that?” His hips slowly moving again.

“Because-“The friction between our hips causing us both to groan. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”

As the soft glow of the vanity lights illuminated the room, casting a warm ambiance over the space, Dominik's footsteps echoed against the wooden floors, the sound a rhythmic accompaniment to the weight of the impending departure. His words lingered in the air, carrying with them a mixture of anticipation and melancholy.

"I spoke with Colonel Huglin over the phone today," His voice tinged with a hint of tension that belied the calm facade he tried to maintain. "It seems like everything is ready for our arrival in the morning."

I turned to face him, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. His hair, usually meticulously styled, now bore the tousled look of a man consumed by nerves and the weight of responsibility.

"My mother is going to take Charlotte back to the States once we get on the plane," Dominik continued, his words hanging between us with unspoken emotions. "I told her to stay here for a while, but she's insistent on getting out of England."

I couldn't help but inwardly roll my eyes at Marigold's insistence on whisking Charlotte away to New York. The prospect of being separated from my daughter for an unknown stretch of time tugged at my heart, the idea of her absence leaving an ache in its wake. While Dominik and Marigold argued that the military base was no place for a young girl, I couldn't shake the feeling that there were other children in the town who could keep her company.

“What time do we leave?” I asked, my voice tinged with concern.

Dominik checked his watch, furrowing his brow. “Huglin mentioned the plane will be ready at nine sharp. We need to be at the airfield no later than 8:30.”

I bit my lip, a pang of sadness washing over me. “Charlotte will still be sleeping when we leave. I can’t bear not saying goodbye to her. We don’t know how long we’ll be a part. Your mother isn’t gonna let me wake her that early.”

“Maybe it’s best we leave without saying goodbye.” Dominik suggested, his tone matter of fact.

I stood up from the vanity, feeling a surge of frustration. “You can’t be serious, Dom?”

He shrugged, his expression impassive. “You know how my mother is. She doesn’t want Charlotte upset. She’ll have to deal with a crying child when we leave.”

Dominik’s dismissal of my feelings stung. “I’ll have Mother call the base when they land in New York and you can talk to Charlotte then,” he continued, his hands moving down my arms.

Tensions crackled in the air as he towered over me. His words, though well-intentioned, felt like a cage closing in around me. “I know it’s hard to be away from the baby, but I need you with me. You’re my rock, sweetheart,” he murmured, planting a gentle kiss on my neck. “I can’t go anywhere without my special little rock.”

I felt a mix of emotions swirling inside of me – love, frustration, and a hint of resignation. Dominik’s ability to use intimacy to end arguments was both comforting and manipulative. I knew that arguing further would only lead to more tension. So, with a heavy heart, I relented, letting the moment of peace wash over us…

As I stood by Charlotte's bedside, the soft glow of the nightlight casting a warm aura over the room, memories flooded her mind. Remembering the first time I held Charlotte in her arms, the overwhelming rush of love and protectiveness that consumed my heart. It was a feeling unlike any other, a bond that transcended words and explanations.

Gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from Charlotte's face, I whispered, "Sweetheart, it's time for me to go now. But remember, mommy loves you more than anything in this world." My voice cracked with emotion as I fought back tears, hand trembling slightly as I traced the curve of her cheek.

She stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal sleepy, drowsy eyes. "Mama?" she murmured, her voice soft and filled with innocence.

My heart ached at the sight of my precious daughter looking up at me, so small and vulnerable in the dim light. "Hi, baby girl," my voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to say goodbye before I go."

She reached out a tiny hand, her fingers seeking the comfort of her mother's touch. "Don't go, Mama," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

Tears welled up in my eyes, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on Charlotte's forehead. "I have to go, darling, but I'll be back before you know it. Grandmother will take good care of you while I'm away, okay?" I reassured her, my voice filled with love and tenderness.

With a heavy heart, I tucked the covers snugly around Charlotte, tucking her in with care. Lingering for a moment, savoring the quiet peace of the room before I reluctantly turned to leave.

As I stepped out into the hallway, a familiar voice made me jump in surprise. "A little early for tears, Rachel," Mari's voice floated towards her, her figure blending into the shadows of the room.

Startled, I clutched my chest, heart racing from the unexpected encounter. "Marigold, you nearly gave me a heart attack," I gasped, trying to steady my breathing.

Mari's gaze flickered towards Charlotte's room, her expression unreadable. "Dominik told you not to wake her," she reminded in a low tone. "You know how she gets when you leave her. It wasn't a wise choice, Rachel."

Feeling a pang of guilt, I nodded silently, realizing the impact of my actions. With a heavy sigh, I prepared myself for the difficult task ahead, knowing that leaving Charlotte behind was a sacrifice I had to make for now.

I watched as she retreated into Charlotte's room, glaring daggers as she closed the door behind her, the tension between us palpable in the air. I stood there for a moment, the silence of the house buzzing in my ears like a persistent drone, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling within me. With a heavy exhale, I gathered my resolve and took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead. The faint sound of a car engine humming in the distance pulled me back to the present, prompting me to make my way towards the awaiting vehicle, each step feeling heavier than the last as I left the turbulent scene behind me.

The weather once again mimicked the mood, a common occurrence for England, with dark clouds looming overhead and a chilly wind cutting through the air. Despite the dreariness of the day, there was a certain familiarity in the gray skies and mist that enveloped the surroundings, as if nature itself was reflecting the emotional turmoil within.

My eyes met the driver's, a silent exchange of gratitude passing between us as he held the car door open, a small gesture that spoke volumes amidst the unspoken tension that lingered in the air. Dominik's body stiff beside me, his presence a palpable force in the confined space of the car.

"I told you to leave her alone, Rachel. I told you not to wake her, and of course, you never listen." Dominik's voice was low, the words carrying a weight of frustration and disappointment.

He stared out the window, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside, the rigid set of his jaw betraying his inner turmoil.

"After your little emotional moment," Dominik's voice cut through the tense silence in the car, his words laced with a hint of frustration. He paused; the weight of his gaze heavy as he turned to look at me briefly before returning his attention to the road ahead. "You better hope we're not late getting to the airfield."

His words stung, a stark reminder of the consequences of my actions and the impact they had on our plans. Guilt gnawed at me, knowing that my emotional outburst had potentially jeopardized Dominik's mission and the success of the operation ahead. The weight of his disapproval bore down on me, adding to the already heavy atmosphere in the car.

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to form a coherent response. The reality of the situation sank in, the urgency of our mission overshadowing any personal grievances or misunderstandings between us. With a deep breath, I nodded silently, understanding the gravity of the situation and the need to focus on the task at hand.

As the car started to move away, my thoughts were consumed by Charlotte. I had envisioned our trip to Thorpe Abbots with Dominik as a special event, a chance for us to bond and create lasting memories together. Dominik, poised to become the 2nd colonel in command, was about to embark on a crucial mission to take down the German forces, and I had hoped to support him in this pivotal moment of his career.

However, as the weight of our unspoken tensions and misunderstandings hung heavy in the air, I couldn't shake the feeling of missed opportunities and shattered expectations. What was meant to be a moment of triumph and unity now seemed clouded by discord and distance.

[lunarmoonanons]

Yandere Aemon

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

What you think about yandere Aemon and only Aegon IV noticed it and was like nope.   

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

Masterlist 

Prince Aemon has been referred to as the noblest knight who ever lived, and his skill with a sword is legendary throughout the Seven Kingdoms. He was beloved by people and his own family. 

Aegon was a hedonist, though quite a looker in his youth. 

During the reign of their uncle, Aegon the younger, the boys lived with their father Viserys in the Red Keep. When Aemon was 7 he met the object of all his desires. YN. 

YN was a Tyrell girl who had been sent to live with her aunt as a companion to Naerys Targaryen. Though she was a beauty as all Tyrell women were, the girl was often highspirited and mouthy to whomever she felt. Which was charming for the young lady. 

Naerys adored her new companion. She was outspoken and free, everything Naerys could not be. 

The boys were interested in their sister's companion and when they went to introduce themselves, Aemon found himself captivated. 

Aegon had declared boldly that YN would be fine addition to the court when she grew to be a beautiful lady, and YN promptly dismissed the idea. Declaring the court to be ugly and boring in comparison to her beautiful home at Highgarden. 

From that day if YN were to be seen out she would have a shadow of Aemon on her heels. 

As they grew older Aemon would often imagine marrying the beautiful girl who challenged him at every turn. 

Though he had his own challenger, as Aegon had also had sights for the Tyrell girl. 

During the Dornish conquest, he wrote to the girl relentlessly. Determined that they’d marry after the war. 

But YN never responded to his letters. She did not see him as a marriage prospect. He was practically a brother to her. She thought the two princes were fun enough, but really found no interest in either of them. 

Whenever Aegon would flirt, she’d roll her eyes and shoo him away. Whenever Aemon pined, she felt immensely uncomfortable with how intense he’d look at her and beg for her. 

Her duty was to Naerys, and she played her part well. 

When Baelor had become king and made peace with Dorne, Aemon believed that he would be allowed to marry YN. 

Yet, while Baelor approved of his affections to YN he did not allow the match

And thus Aemon joined the Kingsguard to be close to YN who was always at ANerys side. 

He pined intensely from the sidelines. Everyday just being close enough to breathe her scent much to the dismay of the woman. 

When his father became king, Aemon asked to be released from his position on the Kingsguard. 

He was granted his wish and granted his way to marry the girl, who protested and caused a ruckus against the idea. 

“You are a brother to me. Nothing more. I don’t want you now let me live in peace.”

But her protests were unheard. 

But then Viserys died and Aegon was king. And as king, Aegon stopped the marriage before it could even be planned. 

Aemon grew to hate his brother as he was reinstated in the kingsguard and made to watch Aegon whore hiimself and disgrace their sister. 

YN did not approve of Aegon’s behavior, but was grateful for the chance to run back to Highgarden. 

She barely out of the city when her carriage was stopped.  She barely had time to react as she heard the sound of a sword piercing the flesh of her driver. She barely spoke as the door to her box was opened and she was faced with the sight of Aemon bloody and crazed. She couldn’t fight as he grabbed her and pulled her close. 

He breathed in her scent deep and caressed her shaking face. 

“We’re going away. We’re going to Essos. You will be my wife and I will be a good husband to you.” He held the sword close to her body. “But do not try to leave me again. I will kill us both.”

Aemon was considered to be a great knight, but to YN he was the great terror.

[starkiller419]

Sanctuary & Desires - Pt 1.

pairing : Scott Barringer x F!OC Reader | wc : 4.2k | summary : Scott was sent to Horizon, and upon his arrival he met Madison, a fellow student who was chosen to show him the ropes. After a blissful night of passion shared between the two in the confines of the mountains, their lives would change forever.

warnings : 18+, implied smut, angsty, some violence (Scotty has a bit of a temper.), mentions of drugs and drugs use.

a/n : I have like 14k more words to this story but I didn't wanna go overboard on one post so I'll be making this a little series. Also there will probably be no smut because I'm in a smut writing drought rn, but it could change. Who knows 🤷‍♀️

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Birds chirping around the alpine place would have easily been enough for a normal teen to be eased, filled to the core with relaxation - yet, at Mount Horizon, it wasn't anything like that. For such incapacitated adolescents, only the sight of their most prohibited desires - or maybe the ability to forget - could have led a grin to their features.

Scott was one of them. Brought there against his will by the father and stepmother only a few hours prior, the boy's mind scattered everywhere in despair while Peter elucidated every rule about that hell of a prison. He didn't need to be an ascetic within the enclosure of the school's fences. Instead, Scott necessitated for that whore Elaine to be locked up. 

The troubled juvenile used his muffled vision to scan around the shared dorm he was assigned, eyes just as lifeless as reddened - perhaps because of the cocaine he managed to secretly sniff during the journey. Narcos was the only thing that managed to retain his brain from going insane to a complete extent.

"Understood? No sex, no violence, and most importantly no drugs." Peter firmly conveyed, his silhouette settled tall before Scott's. The teen lazed upon his allocated bed, posture disheveled and coarse. He only darted through the counselor's eyes, not erupting a word since there was nothing to say - except for insults, so it was better for his mouth to stay shut.

"I will take it as a yes. Make your bed first, then a student will be waiting outside to show you around. Just keep in mind, your dad choose Horizon over a juvie hall, the only alternative if you choose not to make it work here. It's up to you." Peter continued mere instants later, his tone being as calm yet explainable as possible. And then, Scott was left alone within the wooden walls of the empty dorm. His mind wherever his body chained in a school for freaks. He had no intention of continuing such odyssey whatsoever. Not one bit.

As Scott begrudgingly began to straighten out his rumpled sheets, he heard a soft knock on the door. With an exasperated sigh, he reluctantly made his way over and swung it open, his eyes falling upon the student who would supposedly be showing him around.

She was a young woman, her frame petite yet elegantly poised. Scott couldn't help but notice the mischievous glint in her eyes, making him hold his breath for a moment. He could already tell that she possessed a certain captivating charm.

"Hi," She greeted, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness. "You must be the new guy. Scott, right? I'm Madison, but everyone calls me Mads. I'm here to show you the ropes."

Scott remained silent for a moment, sizing her up with a skeptical gaze. "Yeah. Just lead the way. But don't expect me to be thrilled about any of this."

Mads gave a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with a touch of defiance. "No worries. I'll make sure to keep it interesting for you. The first stop is the common hall. That's where we all gather during our free time."

Scott followed Mads as she led him towards the common hall, her every step exuding an effortless grace. He couldn't help but steal glances at her as they walked, the way her hips swayed subtly, her perfectly sculpted figure showcased by the contours of her clothing. It was hard to deny the allure emanating from her.

As they entered the common area, Scott's eyes darted around, taking in the lively atmosphere. Groups of students huddled together, engaged in animated conversations, or engrossed in various activities. Mads motioned towards a table where a few students were playing a card game.

"Feel free to join, Scott. It's a good way to get to know some of the other students," Mads suggested, her voice dripping with coy suggestion. "Or if card games aren't your thing, I'm sure we can find something else to occupy our time."

Scott's eyebrows arched in intrigue as he considered her proposition. He couldn't help but wonder what other activities Mads had in mind. He decided to play along, letting a smirk tug at the corners of his lips. "Well, Mads," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of teasing. "I'm always up for a challenge. Show me what you've got, and maybe we can find a way to pass the time together."

Madison led Scott through the halls of Mount Horizon, her steps slightly ahead of him, intentionally giving him a view of her enticing figure. She seemed to glide effortlessly, commanding attention as she walked.

As they passed by the chapel, Madison glanced over her shoulder, her gaze meeting Scott's eyes before flickering down to her own body. She subtly adjusted the hem of her skirt, drawing his attention to her toned legs and the tantalizing curve of her hips.

"Scott, have you ever been inside a chapel?" Mads asked, her voice carrying a soft, melodic tone.

Scott's eyes lingered on her figure for a moment before he tore his gaze away, attempting to play it cool. "No, can't say that I have. Why, do you want to pray for my soul?"

Mads chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. "I'm not exactly the praying type. But the chapel has its hidden delights if you know where to look."

Intrigued, Scott followed her into the dimly lit chapel, its stained glass windows casting a colorful glow across the pews. They wandered towards the altar, where an intricately carved wooden screen separated the sacred space from the hidden alcove behind. Mads beckoned him closer, her voice a seductive whisper. "Care to see the secrets it holds?"

Scott's curiosity was piqued, and he stepped toward her, the allure of the unknown drawing him in. As they reached the screen, Mads leaned against it, running her fingers along the intricate carvings with tantalizing slowness. "Behind this screen," she murmured, "is a small chamber, known only to a select few. It's a place where secrets are shared, and desires are explored."

Scott's heart raced, the electrifying atmosphere between them charging the air. He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. "You've certainly caught my attention. Lead the way."

With a flourish, Mads pushed open the screen, revealing a hidden chamber bathed in soft candlelight. The room was adorned with plush cushions and velvet drapes, an atmosphere of intimacy and secrecy.

She motioned for Scott to join her inside, her eyes filled with an invitation he couldn't refuse. "Welcome to our little slice of heaven, Scott."

Scott, still fairly high on cocaine, felt euphoric. He knew it was partially due to the drugs in his system, but he couldn’t help but feel an innate connection to the woman before him. She walked ahead of him and kneeled down on a soft cushion. She smiled at him sweetly and he felt himself moving to her before he could comprehend what was happening

Scott's steps were almost automatic as if his body was being guided by some invisible force, drawn towards the alluring sight of Madison on the cushion. The drugs coursing through his veins heightened his senses, making every movement, every subtle hint of her body, feel intensified and electrifying.

As Scott neared Mads, he couldn't help but notice the way her skirt clung to her curves, the delicate dark lace of her underwear peeking through. The sight sent a wave of desire coursing through him, his mind clouded with both the effects of the cocaine and the growing hunger that burned within him.

Mads reached out a hand, her touch featherlight against Scott's arm, pulling him closer. "Come, here."

A primal instinct took over Scott's consciousness, overpowering any lingering doubts or hesitations. He sank down onto the cushion beside Mads, his gaze locked with hers, the air heavy with an undeniable tension. His fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against the soft fabric of her skirt, the desire to explore her body becoming overwhelming.

Without any hesitation, Scott leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close to Madison's, his breath mingling with hers. "You're driving me wild. I need to taste you."

Madison's eyes gleamed with a mixture of mischief and desire. Her fingers traced a tantalizing path up Scott's arm, sending shivers down his spine. And with that, the boundaries shattered, and Scott succumbed to the irresistible pull of his desires, surrendering himself to the enchanting temptations of the hidden chamber and the captivating allure of Madison, his senses consumed by the heady blend of pleasure and excitement.

Their lips collided in a fiery, desperate kiss, fueled by a heady mix of desire and intoxication. Scott's mind swirled with an intensifying haze of sensations, his body responding instinctively to the touch of Madison's hands roaming across his form.

As Mads traced his hands along her body, Scott's fingertips trailed along the delicate curve of her waist, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his touch. The taste of her lips, the warmth of her breath, sent a surge of heat coursing through his veins. A surge of confidence surged within him, emboldening him to deepen the kiss, hungry to explore the depths of her passion.

His movements became more urgent as if guided by some fervent need. Scott's hands threaded through her hair, gently tugging at the strands as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth. Their tongues danced together in a passionate rhythm, each movement igniting sparks of desire.

Madison's fingers gripped Scott's hair, their kiss growing even more desperate as their bodies pressed against each other. The intoxication of their connection heightened the sensations as if they were both intoxicated by the intensity of their desires.

With a surge of exhilaration, Scott gently pushed Mads down onto the cushion, hovering above her, his body yearning for her touch. Their eyes locked, a shared understanding passing between them, as the boundaries of their surroundings faded away.

The room was filled with the symphony of their moans and gasps, mingling with the soft music played by the crackling candles. The scent of anticipation filled the air, as their bodies entwined and gave in to the aching hunger that consumed them.

And in that moment, they drowned in each other, lost in the depths of pleasure and frenzy. The world outside ceased to exist as Scott and Mads became enveloped in the intoxicating symphony of their desires, their connection undeniably raw and primal.

In that hidden chamber, they danced a delicate dance of passion and indulgence, leaving behind the rules and restrictions of Mount Horizon, embracing the forbidden, and finding solace in their carnal desires.

After their intoxicating encounter in the confines of the chapel, the two made their way back to their respective dorms. Scott had joined Madison's group, the Cliffhangers, and over the next few days, they had gone on hikes and adventures, exploring the Pacific Northwestern wilderness. The two had managed to steal forbidden kisses and embraces whenever they could, but the confines of the reformatory school had restricted them from embracing each other fully as they did in the chapel.

The memory of what had happened between them lingered within Scott like an indelible mark on his soul. All of his traumas and frustrations had disappeared in her arms. She made him feel safe, and loved, even with a simple glance in his direction.

However, he couldn't shake the feeling of possessiveness and jealousy that gnawed at him. It was during a group activity that he noticed the lingering glances exchanged between her and another student, Ryan. Ryan's adoring gaze directed towards her ignited a flicker of rage within Scott, setting the stage for a brewing storm of emotions.

Unable to contain his jealousy any longer, Scott sought out Ryan, their heated confrontation escalating into an argument fueled by possessiveness and territorial claims. The air crackled with tension as harsh words were exchanged, both parties refusing to back down.

"Stay away from her man. She doesn't want you." Scott's voice crackled with an uncharacteristic vulnerability, his anger laced with echoes of desperation.

Ryan scoffed, a wicked smirk twisting his lips. "Why should I? She's a free spirit, Scott. She can make her own choices."

The confrontation reached its peak, an explosion of pent-up emotions that left Scott breathless and consumed by regret. He and Ryan had engaged in a physical fight over the girl, which resulted in both of them cooped up in Peter's office to receive a talking-to.

"Why was there an altercation between you two?" Peter asked while he sat across from the two young men, sitting at his desk. Scott rolled his eyes and turned his head to the side, avoiding the question. Ryan however felt the need to speak up.

"Scotty here thinks he has some sort of claim over Madison." Peter's eyes widened at this as he focused his attention on Scott.

"What does he mean by that Scott?" Scott lifted his head to face Peter, and he was sure his emotions and conflicts were showing on his face. 

"I don't know what he's talking about," Scott said as he refused to admit their encounter to the two before him. 

"I think you do Scott. You may be reckless and abashed, but you don't seem like the type of kid to hurt someone for no reason, whatever that reason may be." Peter spoke calmly as his eyes burned into Scotts'. 

"Maybe he deserved it," Scott muttered. Ryan scoffed and Scott's head whipped in his direction, 

"Oh yeah? For what? Fucking your little girlfriend?" Scott saw red as he lunged towards Ryan, the two of them fell from the chair as Scott's fists pummeled into Ryan.

"That's enough!" Peter yelled as he pulled Scott from the boy beneath him, who just lay there laughing at Scott's attempted assault. Peter brought Scott near the entrance of his office and spoke to him in a low tone, so Ryan could not hear. 

"Look, I can see you care about her, don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at her during group. I know you may think you're ready for something like this Scott, but you're not. You have too much to figure out for yourself, too much to understand about you and your past before you can be involved that way with another person. Besides, relationships between students is forbidden here. If that were the case, I would have no choice but to silence the two of you." Peter's expression was caring and understanding as he spoke to Scott, who felt his heart burst at Peter's words. 

"What do you mean silence us?" He asked quietly, 

"We would monitor the two of you and restrict contact with each other. One of you would be removed from the Cliffhangers and placed in a different group." Peter explained to Scott and he felt overly consumed by anger. 

"That's bullshit! Why would you do that to someone? That's not healing anybody, that's fucking torture!" He exclaimed and Peter placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. 

"I never said that's what's happening. As of right now, I have no reason to suspect the two of you have nothing more than a simple crush, and if it stays like that and nothing more ensues, you have nothing to worry about," too late for that Scott thought to himself, "As for now, you and Ryan will be placed on firewood together for the remainder of the week. Take it as an opportunity to overcome your short bearings." 

Scott scoffed before he turned and stormed away, his heart throbbing with conflicting emotions.

The next day Scott sauntered into the mess hall for breakfast, spotting Madison and Kat sitting together at a table eating cereal. She glanced up at him and smiled brightly, causing his heart to flip and flop around. He wanted to smile back, and more than anything he wished he could run to her and wrap her in his arms, kissing all over her body as he once did.

But after what Peter had said he knew he had to distance himself. He wouldn't want to not be able to speak to her or see her because he couldn't hide his emotions from everyone surrounding him. So instead of smiling back, or even acknowledging her, he turned and walked away from her eyesight and left the hall altogether.

One day turned to many, a bittersweet silence between Scott and Mads ensuing. Passing glances were filled with a mix of longing and frustration. The longing in Scott's eyes remained unmistakable, a silent plea for understanding and a chance at redemption. He hated himself for giving her the cold shoulder. He was more than sure that he loved this girl. He had never felt this way for anyone before. And the fact that he was cold as ice to her was torturous for him, even if it was just to reduce Peter's suspicions.

Then after weeks of torture, on a stormy night, rain poured down upon Mount Horizon with relentless intensity, mimicking the chaotic storm that raged within Scott's heart. The sound of rain against the windows echoed his turmoil, urging him to confront his true feelings. Drenched to the bone, Scott found himself unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing him towards her. Determined and resolute, he fought against the raging tempest that threatened to push him away, his heart pounding in his chest.

In front of Madison's dormitory, raindrops slid down his face, as if his tears had mingled with the rain. His breath came in uneven gasps, his mind consumed by a whirlwind of emotions. With trembling hands, he knocked on her door, waiting with bated breath for it to open. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw Scott, his face streaked with raindrops and streaks of vulnerability. The intensity in his gaze took her breath away. Her heart quickened as she stepped outside into the rain, her voice barely above a whisper. "Scott, what are you doing here?"

His voice cracked with an impassioned rawness as he spoke with unfiltered honesty. "I can't pretend anymore. The thought of you with someone else tears me apart. These past weeks without you have been unbearable. Not being able to show you how much I care for you has been torturous. I want you. Not just for now, but forever. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine."

Raindrops blended with silent tears as they cascaded down Madison's face. Her vulnerability mirrored in her eyes as she stood before him, caught between her own fears and the love that had slowly but surely blossomed within her. Her voice trembled as she met his gaze, her words laden with emotion. "Scott… I've felt the same way, but I was scared to admit it. It's not just infatuation, it's something deeper. Something I can't deny any longer."

In that moment, every worry, every doubt, every unspoken fear was washed away by the rain, leaving only the profound connection between them. Their hearts beat in sync, a testament to the intense love that had blossomed between them.

As the rain continued to pour, they sought solace in each other's arms, a blissful embrace borne from desire, heartache, and a deep understanding of one another. This stormy night became the turning point in their story--the night they let go of their fears and chose to embark on a journey that would forever change their lives.

And amidst the rain-soaked chaos, Scott and Mads found solace, connection, and love that burned brighter than any storm. As the rain continued to pour, a newfound resolve enveloped Scott and Mads, intertwining their hearts and fueling their hunger for freedom. Their lips met in a deep and passionate kiss, sealing their agreement, their love, and their desire for a life beyond the confines of Mount Horizon.

Breaking away from the kiss, Scott looked into her eyes, a mixture of determination and excitement shining within. "Let's run away. Let's escape this place and create a world where it's just you and me, where we can be free."

Her breath caught in her throat, in a mere matter of weeks and hidden moments, the boy who stood before her had managed to cascade his way into her very soul. Her response was swift and unwavering. "Okay. I want to escape with you. I want to leave this place behind and create our own path."

The two snuck from her dorms, hiding away in an empty storage shed as the rain continued to pound outside. They engaged in searing moments of desire and anticipation for what was to come, the life they would be able to live together. The two spent the night planning their daring escape, their hearts pounding with fear and excitement. Their plan was to wait until the clock struck midnight the following night, taking advantage of the cover of darkness and the exhaustion that often accompanied the late hours.

As the time drew near, their excitement grew. Scott stealthily collected the necessary supplies while Mads gathered any valuable information about the school and its security measures. They meticulously planned their route, leaving no room for error.

Finally, the moment arrived. As the rest of the school slumbered, Scott and Madison slipped out of their dormitories, their hearts pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. Their steps were cautious, ensuring they remained undetected as they made their way toward the school's perimeter.

Aided by their knowledge of the campus, they skillfully navigated through the pathways, using the cover of darkness to their advantage. Their pulses quickened as they neared the fence that symbolized the boundary between captivity and freedom.

Scott's fingers trembled as he fumbled with the fence, silently urging it to give way and grant them their long-awaited liberation. With a sigh of relief, the fence yielded, providing them with an opening just wide enough for their escape.

Hand in hand, hearts racing, they emerged into the wilderness beyond, their spirits soaring as they breathed in the air of newfound freedom. At that moment, they truly believed they had conquered Mount Horizon.

The night swallowed them whole as they pressed on, their senses heightened by the adrenaline coursing through their veins. With each step, the darkness of the night seemed to be a metaphorical embrace, wrapping their youthful rebellion in its protective cloak. They walked hand-in-hand for hours, stopping occasionally to exchange in a passionate embrace.

They embarked on an uncertain journey, captivated by the thrill of the unknown and the intoxicating allure of their shared escape. Their destination was not predetermined, their path guided by the whims of the moon and the whispers of their hearts.

As their escape unfolded, their bond only grew stronger. They relied on each other for support, their love becoming a lifeline amidst the unpredictable currents of their adventure. They discovered hidden coves, and secret hideaways, and shared countless stolen kisses under moonlit skies.

However as Scott and Madison ventured deeper into the wilderness, they soon realized that their escape was not without obstacles. The harsh realities of survival gnawed at their romanticized notions, testing their determination and resourcefulness.

They faced treacherous terrains, their clothes becoming tattered and dirty as they trudged through thick mud and dense undergrowth. Hunger gnawed at their bellies, prompting them to forage for food in the unforgiving wilderness. They relied on their wits and burgeoning survival skills, scavenging for berries and edible plants, and sometimes even daringly venturing into small towns to acquire necessary provisions.

Their escapades sparked a sense of adventure within them, reinforcing their bond as they clung to each other for support and comfort. Each hardship only served to strengthen their resolve, their love serving as a beacon of hope in the darkest of times.

In the midst of their journey, they stumbled upon a hidden waterfall, its cascading waters shimmering under the sun's gentle rays. It became a sanctuary, a place where they could wash away their struggles and bask in the purity of their love. They embraced amidst the gentle spray and let the waterfall's serenade drown out the echoes of their past.

As they continued their arduous exploration, they came across a humble cabin nestled amidst a grove of ancient oaks. It seemed untouched by the modern world, a forgotten refuge beckoning them towards its welcoming embrace. Seeing it as a sign, they decided to make it their sanctuary, their home away from home.

The cabin was worn and weathered, but livable nonetheless. They transformed the cabin into a haven, a place where their dreams could intertwine with reality. They adorned the walls with Polaroid captures of their journey, creating a tapestry of memories that whispered stories of a life lived on their own terms.

On one of their few trips to the neighboring small town, Madison had purchased a secondhand sewing machine and tailored the two new outfits, bedding, and towels. They restored the cabin together, spending their days in the blistering Oregon sun creating a home for themselves.

The two learned more and more about each other with each day that had passed. No one from Horizon or from their past had come to look for them, and they didn't care.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Plus size coaches daughter and hockey captain Curtis. He's totally smitten and wants to be with her, and just has to show her that he's not the player that she's used to seeing out of other hockey players

Curtis ‘The Hatchet’ Everett, strikes out again — you can hear it now, see it now, as its splashed over the teams fan pages.

The infamous playboy had settled down, but who has he settled down for? — the surefire tag lines and captions on the picture of Everett standing outside the arena with his hands cupped at the back of his head and his lip tucked between his lips, are clear.

Curtis Everett has been enraptured by someone and they wanted to know who it was.

You stared at the picture, the moment captured wherein his plump bottom lip was nibbled on as he stared after a vehicle that was pulling away. His hat was on backward as it usually was, and his hair was still damp with sweat from the game but it was his eyes and lips that were the most captivating.

C.E. Whore — I would literally kill for him to look at me like that

JamietheKidd — he hasn’t been seen out with another groupie in weeks. SOMEONE has his attention

You scrolled past the picture and moved onto the next one, this one being posted from the official team’s page, and found a picture of yourself standing behind the penalty box.

You were wearing the team jacket, your hair haphazardly and messily pulled out of your face. You rather liked the picture until you had caught a glimmer of silver beneath the jacket, and a familiar charm on the necklace you wore.

“Oh shit…” you hissed and cursed yourself out, momentarily panic that had lit a kind of fire under your ass, making you nearly immediately bolt from the bed. “Oh no, oh no, oh no-“

“Baby, hey….baby what’s wrong?” The door opened and out he stepped from the shower, bare chested with water droplets rolling down his abdomen to the towel around his waist.

“This is not good, Everett!” You turned to face him, pausing to study the sculpted chest and abdomen that was glistening with water and the playful smirk on his face.

“What’s not good, baby? Hmm?” He walked toward you and cupped your chin, tilting your head up so he could look deep into your eyes. “Because from where I’m standing, things look just damn fine.”

“Horn-dog,” you giggled and smacked his chest lightly, forgetting for a moment your freak out, “you always think of sex?”

“With you? Sweetheart have you looked at yourself? If I were you, I’d jump my own bones.” He grinned again, and snaked a hand down your back to grab a handful of your ass, pulling you even further to his chest.

“Curtis,” you slowly pulled yourself out of the haze and lifted your phone to his face, “look.”

“I see my gorgeous girlfriend. Look at you, babe-“

“Curtis!” You whined, both from the feeling of his hands caressing your generous curves, and from annoyance. “You can see your chain, your charm.”

“Can you?” He took a second look, a better look, and then grinned crookedly. “You look good with that on.”

“People will recognize it, they’ll find out. My dad-“

“Come on baby.” Curtis gently led you to the bed and sat you down. “Take a breath, sweetie. Everything will be fine.”

“Fine? Curtis people will find out and you have fans, you have crazed fans.”

“I’m not scared of my crazed fans and you shouldn’t be either. They won’t do anything.”

“Oh? And who are you afraid of?” You leaned in and rest your cheek against his shoulder.

“Your dad. Fuck, your dads gonna kick my ass.” Curtis cursed and then laughed when you had, finding the same amusement as you did.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “I think he would.”

[kweenhazbin]

marquie pls i am dying to know about huskerpose lore 🥺 how did they meet? what is their relationship like? who falls first and who falls harder? i want to know everything about them, if you’re willing to share! <3

Dusaaaaaaaa Hiiiiiiii. sorry im late to this one too. omg i Havent indulged in Huskerpose in a while but reeeeeee.

Ok so Ms Mariposa is in hell because she killed herself after losing her only family her mama. Upon first look ms ma'am does NOT look like she should be in Hell what with the lovely butterfly wings and how fucking timid she is.

She arrives in hell and is terrified but doesn't show that for fear of looking weak. anyway Val finds her and he wants her BAD. He's a little jealous of her since she's a butterfly and he's a moth but he's also like "She belongs with me. We belong together." and he's good at smooth talk so of course she goes to work for him.She does NOT sell her soul to him though. Anyway Val keeps her in entertainment. she's a singer and sometimes used as a "delicacy" for anyone who cna pay the outrageous amount to sleep with her.

Apparently innocent looking whores are the best money makers. Anywhoo she works for Val for about three years before she's hired to sing in one of Overlord Husk's casinos and that's where they meet! he sees her singing on stage and he is captivated and of course because he's an overlord he's like "I want her."

They talk after she's done performing(which is what the com is🥺) and they talk all night, Husk woos her with magic tricks and suave words, and a charm he only shows people behind closed door.

Val gets jealous when he sees her and Husk chatting, he grabs her, takes her away, abuses her a bit (careful not to hurt her face though).

Husk shows up and rescues her, he tells her to give him her soul and he will be able to get her out of there and she does! She sells her soul to Husk and she stays with him in the casinos until he loses his soul to Alastor and in turn loses her soul too so they both become contracted to Al.

She and Sir Pentious are both one of the souls everyone thinks really could be redeemed and welcomed into heaven. Husk tries to push her away despite being stupid in love with her because he's ashamed of losing her soul to Al.

So right now they are in this "i love you but i can't say it" phase🥺 But husk is also secretly looking for a way to get her out of Al's contract instead of trying to release himself 🥺

Posie fell first, Husk fell harder.

Thank you for asking baby!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU!

[revehae]

since it’s implied in indulgence that johnny has other victims scattered between the 4 main ones, what would some of the other circumstances be that he just hasn’t gotten caught for yet 🫣

the first thing i thought about was his first victims! in 1998, he had 11 victims including martina mortes. this is his highest kill count in a single year because his first kills were one-offs and he was still learning what he liked and perfecting his M.O.

this also makes them the most interesting, at least to me, because this was before he settled into routine and he was a youngin and all the things yadayadayada.

for the most part those kills looked like this: he found a girl on a night out, wooed and charmed her for a couple of hours, convinced her to go alone with him for obvious reasons, and then boom the poor thing had fallen into his trap. they were dead that same night. i’m certain it didn’t take long for him to get the grand idea to incorporate sex into the kills Lol like by the 2nd/3rd victim he was probably choking them out mid-intercourse vs just straight up strangling them and being done

his victims also age with him like they’re not super young unless he’s super young. for the most part. i imagine indulgence!mc was quite a bit younger than him and although she’s not necessarily a victim he was definitely into her 😭 otherwise she wouldn’t have gotten half that info out of him. maybe late twenties. dylidl!mc was also a decade younger but this one isn’t so bad to me considering shes like early 30s and hes 43.

i said all of that to time skip to his marriage with christine… we’re not going to talk about her lol we’re just going to talk about one of the victims he had during the 3 years that they were married. now at this time he was like 30-33 himself and his victim pool would have been around the same age so he would’ve probably gone for some lady with a REAL job that was also stressed out from it… so like dylidl!mc he was probably just casually blowing her back out until he was like okay time to hide you in my basement for 3 months… which he didnt get to do with her the professor and we all know why. this is funny bc he did all that and his wife just never knew what was happening underneath her house 😭😭😭😭😭

like contrary to johnny 25 years ago, he really goes the whole nine yards. so you can imagine he was flirting and wooing these women for months prior to the kidnappings. because - and i want to explain this in a way that makes sense - he’s not particularly faithful himself. not to his long-term partners (sabrina, christine, probably martina but to a smaller extent), and especially not to his shorter term victims. if he was holding one girl captive in the basement, you can best believe he was already working on the next one to make sure he could keep up with his schedule ☝️ swapping them is really important to this guy lol 1) he gets bored after a while and 2) the urge to kill them gets uncontrollable after a while, 3 months it seems

this is all funny considering he calls women cheating whores and he’s the cheating whore in question like ok sir.

[laequiem]

kiss you off my lips - folktober day 5

Jurdannet Folktober 2021- Day 05. She who pulls the strings @jurdannet @jurdannetrevels

Fandom: The Folk of the Air

Pairing: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar but seen through Nicasia/Cardan Greenbriar? lol

Rating: mature

Word count: 2,532

The Puppet King, my subjects call me. Allegedly, the Living Council pulls the strings, controlling me from behind the scenes. They think themselves subtle, but I hear their whispers. Their words, however, slide off my armor like rain. After all, I have heard them countless times, from other’s lips or from my own mind. I was my mother’s puppet, then Balekin, and now I am Jude’s.

read on ao3

Masterlist • She kills my self-control masterpost

The Puppet King, my subjects call me. Allegedly, the Living Council pulls the strings, controlling me from behind the scenes. They think themselves subtle, but I hear their whispers. Their words, however, slide off my armor like rain. After all, I have heard them countless times, from other’s lips or from my own mind. I was my mother’s puppet, then Balekin, and now I am Jude’s.

Most days—more than a King, more than a marionette—I feel like a courtesan. Dabbling in steamy displays with courtiers I am barely interested in, all to keep the façade of the immoral king. I pretend at power, desperate for a nod of approval from my seneschal, while she does all the work. Of course, she had never asked me to whore myself out.

Until today.

I do not know who started our tumbling. Maybe I did, my anger blinding me to the foolishness of what we were about to do, in that small room behind the dais. Forgetting that touching Jude again would remind me of everything I have tried to forget since that day she rode me in her rooms. When I kissed her, that anger melted away, replaced immediately with the desire I have been helplessly fighting against for years.

Or maybe this was Jude’s plan all along. She is more faerie than she seems, at least in the way she schemes and bargains. I will charm Nicasia and get her the info she wants. In exchange, she gave me what I want: her.

Her tart taste lingers in my mouth. I did not kneel for her this time, but licking her taste off my fingers made me regret not indulging that particular thirst.

I find Nicasia easily, splendid in a pearl white gown, talking to Randalin. The small sprite does not stand a chance against her. His goat eyes shift towards me, then he bows deeply. Nicasia turns to me, unable to hide her surprise and delight that I have come to her.

“Cardan,” she croons.

Randalin chokes on nothing, animal eyes going wide. I raise a brow at Nicasia and cross my arms.

“Your Majesty,” she corrects herself, a purplish tint blossoming on her cheeks. I will never tire of this.

“Princess Nicasia.” I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. “Would you accompany me on a walk? For old time’s sake.”

“It would be my pleasure,” she beams up at me.

We make boring small talk as we walk, her arm looped around my elbow. The path leads us away from the Palace, towards the beach separating the Shifting Isles. Jude seemed to think Nicasia still liked me, and I suppose I can see it. She looks up at me with clear interest, though the conversation is as weary as can be. I work my charm up even more. A small hibiscus shrub blossoms as we walk past and I pluck a flower, tucking it in her hair with a calculated graze of my knuckles against her cheek.

The sea does not rise to greet us as we set foot on the sand.

“The sea is unnaturally calm,” I say.

I chuck off my shoes and Nicasia’s eyes dart straight to my bare feet. I hope Jude does not ask me if she was right that Nicasia still holds feelings for me, I fear I would not be able to lie.

“It is,” she says, turning back towards the sea.

I slowly uncuff my shirt for the second time today. I chase away the memories of Jude’s curious fingers on me. The way she explored and grabbed at me like she needed to figure me out, to plan out how to efficiently unravel me next time.

Next time.

I hope there is a next time.

“I must admit I am surprised,” I tell her nonchalantly, "I thought the Undersea always made true on their threats.”

I will the nearest tree to stretch out a branch towards me. I unbutton my shirt and remove it, then hang it on the branch.

“What do you mean?” Nicasia asks.

She turns to me. The way she devours me with her eyes takes me back to a time of shared wickedness and complicity. A time when it was us against the world, a time when she chose me over my siblings.

Until she chose Locke over me.

Now do you believe me that she wants you? Jude had asked. I suppose I do.

At one point, this look on Nicasia’s face would have set all my nerves on fire. Now, I feel the same as when strangers ogle me.

“Cleave together lest you face the rising tide,” I singsong, reciting the words from Queen Orlagh’s minion at the Hunter’s Moon revel in the same melody they used. “Yet the sea stays quiet. I take it your kind has another plan.”

I reach for the lace holding together my breeches and pull at the knot. Nicasia looks down at her hands, suddenly captivated by her nails.

“Perhaps,” she says too quickly. “Or perhaps we hope you will come to your senses.”

“We all hope so.”

Including me. Just not about this particular issue. My issue is of the mortal kind, the kind who deals in secrets and knives.

I hang my pants next to my shirt. Nicasia is still fully dressed, standing with her back straight and her lips tightly shut. I stop in front of her and trail a finger up her arm before slipping it under one of the straps of her dress.

“Will you not join me, Princess?”

My tail brushes up her spine and she arches towards me. I don’t wait for her to answer, though. I run into the sea.

The water is cold, unwelcoming. Before becoming High King, the salt water would not have bothered me as much. With only minor magic, only ingesting salt would have hurt me. Now, it grates at my skin like sandpaper, as if eating away my skin to get to the magic within. My magic recoils from any part of me in contact with the water. It’s heinous. I would rather take a dip in the Lake of Masks.

On the shore, Nicasia strips off her dress, hose, heels, tiara, everything. Then, she runs towards the water in a wave of blue-tinged skin and blue hair. She dives under, agile and more in her element than I could ever be.

She resurfaces next to me, a smile on her painted lips.

“Like old times,” she says.

“Like old times, but so much more complicated.” I sigh, then cast my line. “It used to be so easy.”

She takes a step towards me, biting the bait. “What was?”

And I reel it in.

“Everything,” I say with a frown. I take a step towards her, and put my hand on her cheek. “Us.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” she says softly.

“It does.” I sigh again. “Do you realize how hard it is to please everyone? The Living Council is always on my case. And my seneschal—”

She groans. “Why do you even keep her around?”

Because she commands me. Because she is the true ruler of Elfhame. Because I love her.

“I have to.”

Nicasia puts her hand over mine. Her fingers are webbed now, I notice. No gills, however. I suppose she knows I have no desire to ever follow her under again. Now that I am High King, I don’t have to—unlike when I was no more than the lover of the Future Queen of the Undersea.

I wonder if Nicasia notices the way I look at Jude. I wonder if I used to look at her like that, or if it was something else. I did love Nicasia, once, but it was never as labyrinthine.

I try to emulate that look just now, I try to look at her like I used to. Nicasia is still the same beautiful creature she always was: a perfectly symmetrical face composed of sharp angles and large, deep eyes. She is beautiful in the way a painting is, a piece of art to be admired. Just like art, she can make you feel things—but it’s nothing as primordial as what I feel for Jude. Like she is the beating heart I am tethered to.

“There are things I can choose for myself.”

I stroke her cheek with my thumb. She leans into my touch, angling her head towards my hand.

“… things?” Nicasia asks.

“Lovers. Consorts.” I lean in towards her ear and whisper, “A Queen.”

The words sound so wrong, they claw at my throat as they come out. I am surprised I can even say them, but they are not lies. I simply have no desire to make Nicasia any of these things.

“Ca—Your Majesty,” she gasps.

“We’re in private. Cardan is fine.”

I kiss the soft spot under her ear, then pull at the lobe with my teeth. Her skin tastes salty. Like seawater, of course, not the salty tang of sweat drying on skin after an exhausting training session. The point of her ear is unsettling, sharp like a blade.

“Cardan.” She slides a hand behind my neck, toying with my hair the way she knows I like. “Why refuse me so often then?”

I pull back to look at her, my hands roaming down to settle on her small waist.

“My subjects think me… young. Foolish.” I look towards the Palace, the grassy hill looming over the trees. “They already say I am a puppet.”

“They are the fools,” she spits.

I shake my head. “I am a fool. Regardless, if I were to marry so early after being crowned, they would think you the mother of puppets. The one who pulls my strings.”

“Especially given my mother’s insistence,” she says and I nod.

I pull her to me, her hips pressing against mine. Bone against bone. Wildly different from the soft but strong body I was exploring hours earlier.

“Politics, you know.” I sigh. “Tedious.”

I think I am overdoing it on the sighs, but what can I say? I am quite dramatic, even when I am not acting.

“Still,” I lean in, barely a hair’s breadth away from her face, “I have a say in whom I woo.”

Our lips crash together like waves on rocks. Hers are cold, which is fitting seeing how unaffected I am by this. It’s the kind of lustful kiss I give my partners, no feelings other than desire. My body is not fooled, however—kissing Nicasia has about the same effect on me as listening to Fala’s ramblings. I tip her head backward and she complies, malleable and utterly bewitched. My other hand slides from her hip to her buttox. I squeeze a barely-there cheek and she giggles against my mouth.

One of her hands is tangled in my hair while the other one slips from my shoulder down my back. As she has always done, she avoids my scars like they are made of iron. When we were together, I thought it was for my own sake that she never acknowledged them. That she was being kind, in her own way. When I had fresh wounds and I refused to take off my clothes, she understood. But when I ended it and my mind stormed to figure out what went wrong and led her astray, it started to feel more intentional. Like she sees my scars as weakness and she fears that touching them would contaminate her.

“I miss us,” she whispers against my lips.

I only hum an agreement, pulling away to kiss at her throat. Her hand continues its careful trek down my back, until she gets at the base on my spine. A dreadful shiver goes up my spine as I anticipate what she is about to do. Sure enough, her fingers circle the base of my tail. She strokes it, letting it slip between her fingers for the whole length of it. I jerk away, take a step back. As if to spite me, the sea places a slimy rock right under my foot and I slip, falling backwards into the water with the grace of a drunken redcap.

I spit out no less than a gallon of water as I resurface, choking on the salt that is sure to take days to leave my system. Nicasia’s mouth is twisted up in remnants of a smile, her eyes glinting with amusement.

“What happened?” she asks as I stand.

“Something… touched me,” I grumble, a faerie truth if nothing else.

She reaches out, moving a wet strand of hair away from my face. “The High King is afraid of a little fishie?”

I scowl, then splash her with water. “I am not afraid.”

Nicasia chuckles. I shrug her off, starting towards the beach.

“Leaving already?” she teases.

“My guards will start looking for me soon enough, if my seneschal isn’t already on her way.”

Nicasia grunts, probably rolling her eyes dramatically as she follows behind me. “That mortal has too much power.”

I stop in front of the branch I left my clothes on. I still feel the salt on my skin, drying there as the water drips away. I grab my tail and wring water from the tuft at the end of it.

“Does she?” I ask, bored.

“Yes!” Nicasia steps around and puts herself between me and the branch. “What will our world become if mortals do not learn their place? As their power grows, we ought to unite. The Land. The Sea.”

“Nicasia—” I start, but she interrupts me.

“The sea is growing impatient, Cardan,” Nicasia continues, a hint of irritation hidden under the usually pleasant lilt of her voice. “My mother thinks the Land is weak, she might act any moment.”

I inspect my nails, picking a grain of salt from under one of them. “If the Crown is so weak, why try to unite with us at all?”

“I want us to be united,” she spreads her hands, palm up.

“And I want to bathe. Your regnal birthright is quite cold.”

I step around her and start dressing up. Behind me, I hear her stop, then the rustling of fabric.

“Do not jest,” she scolds. “What she’s planning—you should take it seriously.”

“I do. And I will think it over, once I am warmed up.” I finish cuffing my shirt, then hold my arm out for her. “Will you accompany me?”

Arm in arm, we return to the Palace. Even without their High King, the Folk still partake in their traditional merriment. Unheeding of my vague promises and empty words, Nicasia spends the rest of the night at my side. We trade kisses and caresses for everyone to see. Later, we move to the rooms assigned to her to do more of the same, to bathe and exchange soft whispers. When I leave Nicasia’s chambers, she hands me notes regarding her mother’s plans to attack during Taryn Duarte’s wedding.

As I collapse on my bed, finally alone, I curse Jude’s name for being right. Still, her name is the last thing on my mind as I drift asleep.

-

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[cellophanejpeg]

people throw rocks at things that shine

***gif is not a visual representation of the reader***

Pairing: Ezra x female!reader

Summary: During a ball your parents were throwing, you meet a charming gentleman and discover new feelings you thought it didn’t exist.

a/n: Requested by anynomous! i tried to make this as vague as possible and tried to focus only on Ezra and you. 😬😬, this is uuuuuh something… i tried. also, my brain isn’t capable of writing perfect regency dialogue, so please bear with me.

warnings: REGENCY ERA INACCURACIES!!!!! (don’t read it if you're going to be offended by the lack of accuracy, istg, this is just fanfiction, i’m just having fun pls don’t come at me). slut shaming from a side character, period drama shenanigans, age gap (reader is of age), i gave Ezra a last name sorry! use of the word “flustered”

word count: 9.2k (told you it was long)

masterlist

The room is full of people and it’s hard to breathe with the stuffy air. The smell of sweat lingers in the room, but you’ve grown used to it. People dance to the ballad and talk over the music and over each other, making your ears ring with the sound. You fan yourself, trying to find some relief in the hot room. It’s a way to distract yourself from the fact no gentleman has invited you to dance yet. And it’s almost the middle of the night.

Balls aren’t really your thing anyway. You prefer quiet nights under the moonlight as you watch the stars, or read in the candlelight. Your favorite nights are the ones that rain and you have to stay inside, all wrapped up in blankets by the fireplace to warm yourself. Not hot summer nights, inside other people’s ballrooms, watching everyone being bewitched by your sister.

You’re not jealous of her, no, you’re not. You love her with your heart and soul, she’s your best friend. But she’s the prettiest. The most beautiful. Your parents are so proud of her and the suitors who seek to marry her. She’s not of age yet, though, not like you. No, you’re past your twenties and, in society’s eyes, you’re already a lost cause. No husband, no suitor, no nothing.

You almost roll your eyes at the thought. All of them are so old-fashioned. But you’d be lying if you say you don’t care. Deep down, you wouldn’t mind if one gentleman asked you to dance.

“She’s captivating, isn’t she? The most beautiful girl in the room.” A voice with a different accent interrupts your thoughts and you almost jump, startled by it.

A man stands beside you, golden skin, dark hair – save by a blonde patch, a birthmark, you assume – and brown eyes. His eyes never leave the crowd of people dancing and laughing, not even when you stare at him. When you return your eyes to the people, you see your sister, laughing and dancing and your heart sinks. Of course, he’s talking about your sister.

“Yes,” you respond when you notice you didn’t give him an answer. Your mother always told you it’s impolite to leave people talking by themselves, “Yes, she–”

“So, you agree?” He turns to face you, his eyes piercing your soul, “You agree you’re the most beautiful girl in this ball?”

Your eyes widen and you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Looking away quickly, you swallow hard, trying to think of something to say. He still stares at you as the silence stretches for a moment until you clear your throat and gather the courage to look back at him.

“Forgive me,” you say with a trembling voice, “I thought you were speaking about–”

“Your sister?” He interrupts again with a smirk and a wink, “No, she’s too young. Too young and too naive, isn’t she? Not like you.”

The last statement catches you by surprise and you feel your face burning again. He laughs softly and bows slightly at you as a soft melody starts to be played by the musicians hired by your parents. Your name falls from his lips and you wonder how he knows it. Because you’ve never seen him in your life.

“Perhaps, you will do me the honor.” He offers his hand, still slightly curving his body.

“Of course.” Without thinking, you take his hand and let him guide you to the middle of the ballroom, where the other people are dancing to a soft waltz.

Contrary to his words, the man is polite while he dances with you, keeping his distance and never letting his hands wander on you. You can still feel your cheeks burning and even more when you realize everyone in the room is looking at you. You keep your eyes to the floor, watching as his feet lead yours through the room.

“You’re shy for someone from your family, little bird,” he murmurs, “Keep your eyes on mine. Forget about anyone else.”

And so you do. Somehow, his piercing brown eyes catch yours and you’re unable to look away. Suddenly, it feels like you and he are the only ones in the ballroom, dancing to a secret melody.

“You seem to know everything about my family, Mister,” you say when you finally find your voice again, “But I know nothing about you.”

He smiles then, his eyes dancing between yours, “What do you wish to know, precious gem?”

“Well, to start, I’d love to know your name.” You smile at last when he spins you, then catches you in his arms again.

“Ezra,” he whispers so low, you almost don’t hear it.

“Mister Ezra,” you repeat, tasting the name in your tongue, “How do you know so much about my family?”

“Everyone knows about your family.” He laughs, flickering his eyes to your lips for a second.

“I suppose.” Your voice sounds sad for a moment, but it is true.

Your family is one of the wealthiest in the town, which is why your parents always insisted on giving balls and private parties, to keep relevance in the small society. This is also why most men tried to court you before you rejected all of them. They were all gentlemen, nice men, not all of them were bad people, but… You couldn’t help but notice they were only doing it because they were supposed to. None of these men actually liked you, you knew that. And you aren’t a bad person for rejecting them.

You just want someone who actually likes you.

“Everyone also knows you’ve rejected every suitor in this room,” he says as if he’s reading your mind. Ezra smiles at your discomfort as he spins you around once more, “There’s only so many gentlemen you can dismiss, birdie.”

“I understand now,” you tell him, avoiding his eyes and becoming aware of everyone in the room again, “The motive of your request to dance with me.” You don’t see as the smile falls from his face, “So you can mock me.”

“Little bird, that was not my intention at all.” He tries to explain himself, “I–”

“Then why say such a thing?” You don’t let him speak further as the song fades to an end, “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Ezra, but– I think I’m done for the night.”

Without looking at him, you turn your back and walk away, towards your mother who’s been staring at you from across the room since you started to dance with Ezra. Your intention was to go outside to clear your head, but she stops you before you can head out.

“You need to stay away from that man, child.” She warns you, “If he’s the only one who wants to court you, then our lineage is doomed.”

You pull your eyebrows together, confused, “Whatever you mean, mother?”

“Ezra Waley is no gentleman. He takes innocent girls like you and makes them into desperate dishonored whores.”

I’m not innocent, you fight the urge to tell her, but stay quiet and just nod in obedience.

“May I be an excuse for a breath of fresh air, mother?” you ask, avoiding her eyes.

“You may.” She doesn’t look at you either as she speaks.

With a sigh, you finally leave the room, heading to the private gardens. Your favorite place is actually the maze, where you know the way like the back of your hand. You go there when you’re feeling suffocated by your family, but right now, knowing there are guests all over the place, you choose the most private place you can go.

You take a seat on a stone bench and start to remove your silk gloves, sighing with the relief of the cold breeze that blows on your cheeks. The music from the party is muffled but the thick walls of the mansion you live at, but it’s better than the loud noise from the inside. Leaning back, you bask in the moonlight and close your eyes, longing for a sense of peace.

“May I take a seat?” Ezra’s voice interrupts your moment.

“These are private gardens,” you say harshly, as you look up at him, “and if you came here to ridicule me once more, please spare your time and leave.”

Ezra laughs softly, but doesn't move, “I came to apologize,” he says, tugging at the lapels of his tailcoat, “Sometimes my mouth moves quicker than my head can process. I had no intention to insult you, my lady. I offer you my most sincere apologies.”

It's the first time he treats you with the respect a guest should to a hostess of a party. It catches you by surprise and you look back at the bush of flowers in front of you.

“You may take a seat,” you finally respond to his question, but don't look at him when he sits beside you, keeping his distance as he did when dancing to you. You don’t speak and neither does he for a moment. Then, you both speak at the same time, over each other.

“Do you know–”

“Do you–”

The both of you pause and then laugh for a moment. Ezra’s laugh is beautiful, you notice. Suddenly, it’s like the dance all over again. As soon as you look into his eyes, it’s like everything disappears and it’s just the two of you in the entire world.

“Forgive me,” he says, motioning with his hand to you, “Ladies first.”

You smile softly at him but hesitate to speak.

“The gentlemen I’ve rejected,” you start, unsure he’ll understand you, “they never really... It-it always felt… insincere.”

“Insincere?”

“Yes.” You can feel your eyes watering as you look away, “None of them were found of me. You told me that… I’m not naive like my sister, but perhaps I am. I wish to marry for love, true love. Not just convenience.”

Your fingers play with the hem of your gloves, tracing the delicate stitches.

“Why would that be naive, little bird?”

A silence falls on the both of you as you let the tears roll down your cheeks, your eyes set on the big bright moon.

“There’s no such thing as true love.”

Ezra pauses and furrows his eyebrows, “What makes you think that?”

It’s your turn to pause as you hadn’t thought about it. You’ve never experienced it and you’ve never seen it between your parents. For you, true love is something that happens in books, in the stories you read when you’re bored. While you don’t respond to Ezra’s question, he understands. As he said, everyone in this town knows your family, everyone knows your parents’ marriage happened for mere convenience.

“I advise you not to lose hope, little bird,” Ezra says, all of a sudden. In a bold move, he places his hand on top of yours, “There is true love. You just have to look closely.”

“Have you found it?” You ask, looking at him with teary eyes. He smiles at you.

“No, not yet.”

The two of you share a knowing look and it’s like you’ve known him for years. It’s like this isn’t the first time you met, like he’s an old friend. The connection you make with him is remarkable and, as he tells you about himself and his life, you can’t help but wish you’d known him in a different way.

The night goes by as Ezra tells you he’s planning on expanding his business here with a famous jewelry company. When you ask what his business does, he tells you about the time where he used to explore new lands and found a large number of precious gems that he plans on transforming into jewelry for women. You smile at that, although you don’t really know why.

It’s only when the sun is starting to rise that you realize how long you’ve spent by his side, listening to his stories and laughing at his jokes. The best part is that you don’t have a drop of alcohol in your bloodstream. It’s easy to talk to him, you noticed. You don’t need champagne or wine to listen to him, in fact, he could talk for days and you’d still listen to his beautiful voice every second of it.

“I want to show you something,” you tell him, standing up from your place at the bench. The idea rushes into you like a sea breeze and you can’t let it go.

“What is it, little bird?” Ezra stands up to follow you as you enter a secret passage between two pillars of grass.

It’s a narrow trail and he has to walk faster to keep up with you, the branches and leaves getting in his way. The passage ends right at the maze. In the light of dawn, there are only a few people left, and most of them are leaving the place, tired and drunk from the fun night they had.

“Do you know your way to the middle?” Ezra asks as you start walking towards it.

“Yes. It’s my favorite place outdoors. I go there often.”

You stop at the entrance of the grass labyrinth and look back at him.

“Here.” Your voice is soft as you offer your hand to him, “Take my hand so you won’t go astray.”

Ezra allows himself to be pulled by you as you guide him through the maze. Your soft hands send tingles through his skin and it makes his heart warm with the touch. He watches you, not paying attention to the way or where you’re taking him. You glance at him over your shoulder once, through hooded eyes and a soft smile on your lips.

Eventually, you get to the middle of the maze, where a statue of a beautiful woman is. Your hand is still holding his and you don’t say a word as you bring him to the middle, releasing his hand as soon as you realize you’re still holding it.

“Her name is Aphrodite,” you tell him, voice soft, “She’s the–”

“Goddess of love.” He completes the sentence for you. A beautiful smile spreads your features and you nod, leaning your head towards him and whispering conspiratorially, 

“When I was a child, I used to think she would grant wishes. I would come here every day for a wish.”

Ezra laughs softly and looks at you. Your eyes shine in the dawn light, and he fights the urge to lean in and press his lips against yours. How delightful it would be to feel your soft lips on his. To feel your hand on his face, his arms around you. To hug you close to him and never let go.

“Did she grant you your wish?” He asks, instead.

You pause for a moment and look back at the statue, “Perhaps. I don’t know yet.”

He smiles at you, a familiar feeling setting on his gut. His heart told him he knew exactly what you were talking about.

…

“Stupid, insolent child!” Your mother’s voice echoes in the dining room, "The only man I tell you to stay away from! And do you do? Disobey me! Should I really be surprised?!"

Her voice booms in the room, but you're not listening. Shortly after you brought Ezra to the maze, he had to leave, claiming it was past his bedtime. You laughed at his joke and thought about touching him. You thought about holding his hand, cupping his cheek, and kissing him. And you haven't stopped thinking about it, even now. Even after retreating home and changing your garments. Even after having breakfast and even now, as your mother screams at you.

“We just talked,” you say when you realized your mom asked you a question. You weren't listening, “Nothing happened, mother.”

“People saw you taking his hand!”

“So he wouldn't get lost in the maze!” You hide a smile by taking a bite of your toast.

“Do you know what people say about him?” Goodness, she won't drop the subject, “They say bad things about the women who cross his path–”

“That's enough.” Your father saves the day, interrupting your mother, “We all understand your worries, my dear, but Ezra is not that bad of a character after all.”

At that, your ears perk and your attention is turned to your father.

“He might be… A bit unorthodox,” he continues, “but he is a good man. From what I heard.”

“‘From what you heard’?” Your mother has a skeptical look on her face, “This is not about rumors! This is about our daughter’s reputation!”

“And what can be worse than the one she already has?”

The statement should upset you, but it doesn’t. Instead, you bite down a smile and hold your laughter, carefully taking a sip from your hot tea. The tension in the room is visible, you can see in the way your mother’s eyes twitch as she looks intensely at your father.

You clear your throat, setting the teacup down and interrupting the silence, “Well, this is a lovely conversation, but I’m afraid I must retire. I am feeling worn out from the party, so I’ll try to rest before starting my day.”

Your parents don’t look at you as you stand up and leave the room. You weren’t lying, you are feeling a bit drained from standing in a room full of people you don’t like most of the night. But when you lay your back on the soft mattress, in your bedroom, you can’t stop thinking about him.

The back of your right hand still tingles from the hairs on his mustache when he kissed your skin. You feel an unfamiliar sensation inside your stomach, something you don’t quite recognize. Something you don’t want to recognize, out of fear it might not be real.

The next few days go by painfully slowly, as you stay up late most nights, reminiscing the night you met Ezra. Going over what you said and what he said over and over again, wishing you could see him again.

Then, one morning, as you retreat to the library to find a book you still haven't read, your wish becomes reality. As you take the book from a high shelf, it slips from your hand and it falls to the floor. But before you can bend over to take it, a hand is faster than yours and grabs the book.

“You ought to be more careful, little bird,” the familiar voice echoes in the library and your heart skips a beat. When you turn around, Ezra is there, handing you the book. You can’t ignore the way your breath hitches when your fingertips brush on his. It’s like you’re back at the maze, with his hand in yours, guiding him through the walls of grass.

“And you ought to be quieter in a library,” you say softly. Ezra smiles, a beautiful smile spreading his features. You try to bite down a smile, but you can’t. Not when he’s right here again, not when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. To hide your face, you start a slow walk parallel to the bookshelf and you can hear him behind you, “What brings you back here, Mr. Waley?”

“A friend of mine told me the manor was open to visitors,” he says, following you close, “He wanted to see it. I’m just accompanying him.”

You pause for a moment, looking over your shoulder. And in a bold move, that leaves your heart pounding inside your chest, you say,

“So you’re not here to see me?”

It brings a wide smile to Ezra’s lips as he looks away from you, laughing softly. Then, he leans in, caging you with his body.

“You’re such a naive little bird,” he tells you, voice low and raspy, “Why else do you think I would come back here?”

A moment of silence hangs between you two, a moment where you lean back on the bookshelf, the hardwood digging on your back. He looks at you through eyelashes and the sight makes your heart palpitate as you lean towards him, slowly closing the distance between you two. Ezra leans in too, his breath fanning on your face and his nose touching yours. Your lips barely brush against his when a voice interrupts the both of you.

The governess speaks, telling Ezra the library is closed to visitors. She completely ignores the way you and he jump, taking a step away from each other. You feel your cheeks grow warm and look away from him as he nods to the governess.

“My apologies.” He clears his throat, then bows his head to you, “If you’ll excuse me, miss.”

You want to tell him to stay, but no sound comes out of your mouth when you open it; your heart still beats strongly inside your ribcage as you watch him leave, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips.

…

But it seems like your Aphrodite started granting wishes after all. For a fortnight after you saw Ezra for a second time, he shows up at the manor with a friend once more. You find him as you walk into the family room, a complaint about your sister dying on your lips when you see him; Ezra immediately stands up and greets you, mumbling your name and bowing before you. The gentleman with him does the same but your eyes never leave Ezra.

“My dear daughter,” your father says when you burst the door open, “I suppose you know Mr. Waley.” He gestures to the men before you. You feel your cheeks burn and you look down, nodding and giving them a small curtsey, “And this is Mr. Lawrence. They’re in town for business and they’ll join us for dinner this evening.” Your father ignores the way your eyes keep returning their gaze to Ezra, “Would you fetch your sister for me? I want her to have a proper introduction to Mr. Lawrence.”

With a curt nod and no words, you leave the room quickly, but not before sparing a glance at Ezra once more. Your heart beats so heavily inside your chest that you have to pause at your sister’s room’s door and take a deep breath. Swallowing your laugh and biting down the smile that tugs your lips, you knock on the door.

“Come in.” The young innocent voice of your sister echoes inside the room and you open the door to see her painting on a canvas, red and blue paint smeared on her cheek as she looks at the bowl of fruits on a small table in front of her. Your sister is a girl with many talents and painting is just one of them. Sometimes you get jealous of her abilities, even when you’re not supposed to.

“Father wants to see you in the family room,” you tell her with a weak, trembling voice. She looks at you with a frown between her brows and immediately puts her art supplies down. 

“What’s happened?” She asks, reaching behind her to untie the apron on her body.

“Nothing’s happened,” you lie, your brows softly furrowed.

“I’ve never seen you so agitated,” she comments as she walks past you, “Has mother been yelling at you again?”

Unfortunately, one of your sister’s talents is knowing you too well. While you both aren’t best friends, you still are sisters and, sometimes, she would surprise you with how observant she was. Your stomach twists as you walk with her back to the family room, the mere sight of Ezra has made you all flustered and you don’t like it at all.

“Wait.” You grab her arm and turn her towards you as you both stop at the door of the room where your father and the other gentlemen are. You lick your thumb, then presses on her cheek, cleaning the paint smudge from her skin. Ignoring as she grimaces, you huff softly, “You can’t appear in front of Mr. Waley and Mr. Lawrence with a dirty face.”

“Mr. Waley?” She smiles, giving you a knowing look, “The man you danced with at the ball, you mean?”

Freezing your movements, you look sternly at her, “Not a word about it.”

She just laughs as you knock on the door and opens it again, meeting the same men you met before. As your father introduces your sister, your eyes are glued on Ezra again. Does he remember the almost kiss in your library? Does he regret it? Does he want more?

The questions keep hammering in your head the entire evening, even when you sit across him at the dinner table, quietly slurping your soup. The tension in the air is palpable, even with your mother’s glares and your father’s soothing voice as he tries to entertain the guests. You find out that Ezra is staying in town for another month or two, depending on how he’ll close the deal with the new company. Ezra is not paying attention to one word as he’s immersed in the sight of you. You had changed your clothing to your dinner gown and he didn’t think you’d look more beautiful than you already are. But you keep surprising him each time. He hasn’t spoken a word directed to you yet, only stolen shy smiles from you, but it is you who speaks with him first, surprising everyone in the table, including yourself.

“Did you have a good tour of the manor, Mr. Waley?”

Ezra is taken aback for a moment but then clears his throat and nods, flashing a bright smile at you.

“Yes, I did.” He fights the urge to call you little bird in front of your family, something he never thought would make him physically squirm on his seat. All you do is nod at him and smile shyly again and no other word is spoken between you two during dinner.

…

The condensation of your breath is a contrast in the darkness of the night as you make your way towards the middle of the maze, the walls of grass looking taller than they are in daylight. You hold the skirts of your thin nightgown, trembling with the cold and cursing at yourself for forgetting to bring a coat with you. The excitement of dining with Ezra is still running in your veins.

When the dinner was over and Ezra and his friends were getting ready to leave, you excused yourself for a moment, only to return out of breath, just in time to have Ezra kiss the back of your hand. What he wasn’t expecting was the small piece of paper you had dropped in his hand while he held yours and the message written on it.

Meet me at the center of the maze when the moon is high.

The message was an invitation, a plea for him to come. It was a bold move, but the fear of your mother finding out was clouded by the desire of seeing him again soon. You certainly didn’t want to spend another day without seeing him.

You breathe hard when you reach Aphrodite, the statue looking more intimidating in the light of the moon, and so the fear of rejection starts to overrun your heart. What if you read him wrongly? What if he didn’t want to come? What if your mother was right about him?

The thoughts in your head are interrupted when a twig snaps loudly in the dark of night and you whip your head, trying to find the source of the sound. For a second, your heart thumps inside your chest. Would it be him? Or maybe someone found out about your little plan and is coming to drag you back home… 

But when Ezra’s figure emerges from the darkness, a sigh escapes from your lips, relief flooding your body. He takes long steps towards you and smiles as he cups your cheeks with both hands.

“Little bird,” he whispers in the dark, “I cannot express my happiness when I read your message. I had been holding myself the entire evening– The entire week I wished to see you...”

“Ezra.” His name falls from your lips as you melt in his touch, “I could not stop thinking about you.” You confess, “When I saw you in the family room, I– I felt as if my heart would explode and I don’t know why, I don’t– I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

Ezra smiles as you hesitantly reach for him and touch his face with delicate fingers, “I have been the same, sweet bird. Your face never leaves my mind, especially when I sleep. I dreamed of you countless times since we first met.”

His words warm your chest and you feel your stomach churn with happiness; Ezra feels himself leaning his face towards you and gently pressing his lips on yours. The touch is so light weighted as if he’s testing the waters with you, giving you space to pull back if you wanted. But you don’t. As soon as he pulls back, you lean in and kiss him again. His thumbs brush on your cheeks as your fingertips travel through his facial hair.

The feeling is almost overwhelming. It takes over your entire body and it makes your legs shake a bit, but you don’t mind. All you care about is the feeling of being in Ezra’s arms, his lips on yours, the warmth of his body on yours…

Ezra whispers your name when he pulls away again, and you beam at him, your delicate fingers gently holding his wrists. When he lets go of your face, you feel the chill of the night air.

“My mother will not like this.” You laugh softly, still not believing you're here with him.

He furrows his brows and looks around, as if he's searching for something.

“I don't see her around,” he tells you, playfully shrugging. The laugh you let out is a little louder this time and you quickly quiet yourself, bringing a hand to your mouth. Ezra gently pulls your hand away and brushes a thumb on your lower lip. An unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your core, making your head spin and your heart beat furiously.

Ezra kisses your lips one more time and the word is on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite tell what it is.

… 

The next three weeks are summed up with clandestine meetings, stolen kisses, and quiet laughter. You feel like you know Ezra more than anyone else, which is something new to you. You've never felt like this about anyone ever and it excites you and scares you at the same time.

Then, one night, the sun hasn’t risen yet as you return to the manor, after your time in the maze with him, you run into one of the maids on your way to your room.

"Forgive me, Miss,” she says, offering you a curtsey, “I didn't think you'd be awake.”

“It's alright,” you assure her with a soft smile, and nodding at her as you walk away.

“Miss?” The maid's voice makes you stop your tracks and look back at her. Her pale cheeks were red and her hands fidget with the hem of her apron. You frown, approaching her, ready to ask her what was wrong when she speaks again, “You should be more careful with that man.”

You feel your heart skip a beat and your hands tremble. How does she know? Have you not been careful?

"I-I– You–” You stutter, feeling heat creeping on her face, “W-what man?"

“Mr. Waley. He's not a good suitor, from what I heard.”

“Mr. Wal–” You swallow hard, feeling like a young child who was caught disobeying the governess orders, “I wasn't– I was at the library,” you quickly lie, “I haven't been able to sleep lately, so…”

That's when the pink shade of her cheeks turns to red, “Miss… The gardens are not that private as they seem.”

Your breath gets caught on your throat, you feel like your face is on fire, “Please don't tell anyone…”

“I won't. But I have to warn you… The majority of the staff already know. Gossip runs fast here.” She laughs awkwardly, a sympathetic look on her face. You bring a hand to your face and widen your eyes. You don't blame the staff for gossiping, it’s only natural that they talk about the people they work for, “Miss, I may not be in the position to tell you this, but… As soon as word gets to the governess, she'll…”

She didn't have to finish the sentence, because you know. You know what will happen if the governess learns about you and Ezra. She'll tell your mother.

“Yes,” you say, straightening your back and giving her an assuring look, “Thank you for telling me. Now, please get some sleep, it is too early to start the day.”

“Thank you, miss.”

You know you still have some hours to sleep before you have to get up to do your duties, but you can’t sleep after what the maid told you. Somehow, you’ve always known your furtive meetings with Ezra wouldn’t last long. The past week has been like paradise, his nocturnal affirmations only fueled the feeling inside you and the more you spent time with him, the more you wanted to spend time with him.

And you’ve never wanted to spend time with anyone. The certainty that being alone was what you liked the most is slowly being dissolved by Ezra, like sugar in a cup of water.

But now, you have a weird feeling knowing that your mother might find out about it. It’s not like she’ll forbid you to see him, but you’ll never hear the end of it. And keeping the secrecy of your relationship with him has been so calm and quiet. You’re not sure you’re ready to let that go.

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn on your bed one more time, closing your eyes and trying to get some sleep.

…

That same night, you meet Ezra in the middle of the maze again, trying not to think about what the staff will think. You don’t mind. You’re certain you care about Ezra, those few encounters you had with him felt magical. As long as you’re with him, nothing else matters. Let them talk.

The look on Ezra’s face is different when he finds you, but he beams when he looks at you.

“My sweet little bird,” he murmurs, taking your hand and pressing his lips on the back of it, “You are balm for my soul.”

“Ezra,” you whisper, forcing a smile. You try to keep appearances, but you’ve never been a good actress. Besides, Ezra already knows you enough to distinguish your emotions, even if you try to fake it.

“Something’s happened.” It isn’t a question, he already knows something is up.

You remain in silence as you take his hand and guide him out of the maze, through the other way out. Ezra has a confused look on his face, but he complies as you take him to another of your private gardens, where you hope no one would see the both of you. 

“All of them know about us,” you tell him when you’re certain you’re alone with him.

“All of them?” Ezra brushes his knuckles on your cheek gently, trying to soothe your nerves.

“All of the staff,” you explain, “We can’t meet at the maze anymore.”

He looks at you in silence for a moment and you think something is wrong, but the question has been on your mind all day long and when you see it, you’re already speaking before he could say anything.

“A maiden advised me to stay away from you.” You barely recognize your voice, “She’s not the first one to do so.”

Ezra looks away and releases the grip on your face, taking a step back. His semblance looks defeated as if you touched on a sensitive topic.

“I have done many things I regret in the past,” he says, eyes still on the ground, “I believe what they say about me is true. Back then, I was filled with rage and greed and– All I can tell you is that I’m a changed man now. And I– I can only wish you, in such grace, will still have me, little bird.”

A beat of silence hangs in the air. You look at him and feel the urge to touch him, to comfort him.

“My father says you’re a good man, though.”

At that, Ezra looks up at you, eyes gleaming with hope.

“And I chose to believe him. Ezra, I do not care what you’ve done in the past. Who we were does not matter anymore. And I–”

You stop yourself, unsure of the feeling you want to express. It’s unfamiliar but pleasant and it makes you feel light on your feet, wishing you could see him every day of your life. Then, the penny drops and by the time you realize you’re in love with him, Ezra approaches you quickly and crashes his lips on yours and an urgent feeling takes over you. 

Suddenly, all you want to do is touch him, kiss him, be with him in every way possible. Your head spins as Ezra backs you up to the nearest tree, pressing you against the bark and trailing kisses on your jawline and neck. You feel a strange sensation growing in your lower belly, making your core pulse with need and desire. The hands seem to have a life on their own as they make their way to the back of his neck, your delicate fingers tangling on his dark locks.

“Ezra!” You gasp, the air leaving your lungs when his teeth make contact with your skin.

Then, Ezra stops and touches his forehead on yours, letting out a quiet sigh as you both catch your breaths, chests rising and falling as they touch.

“Forgive me, little bird,” he whispers, eyes closed as if he’s holding himself back.

“What for?” Worry is explicit in your expression, your hand touching a cheek of his.

He hesitates for a moment, opening his eyes and looking right into yours. His hand covers yours, the one touching his face, and he brings your knuckles to his lips before pressing it against his chest. When he speaks, you feel his chest rumbling with his voice.

“I’m leaving in three days.”

The statement takes the breath out of your lungs. You open your mouth to say something, but your head is still processing the news. It’s as if something broke inside you and it hurts, making your stomach twist in a strange pain.

“So soon?” Your voice is the tiniest whisper ever. Although you’ve spent weeks meeting each other, it still feels like the time spent together was a mere day.

“I was in town in business. And business is done,” he says as you look away, tears already watering your eyes.

“Oh.”

For a second, you’re tempted to think your mother and everyone else were right. The heartbreak of his departure blinds you from the man you claim to know so well, but you choose to not let it affect you. Ezra is a good man, you don’t care what other people say. They don’t know him as you do.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Ezra gently places something on the palm of your hand. It’s a simple chain, with a small green rock in a pendant.

“This is an emerald,” he says, voice soft as you look at the necklace through tears, “It is known as a symbol of truth and love and it’s said to be the gemstone of the goddess–”

“Aphrodite,” you whisper quietly, eyes still on the beautiful green gemstone.

“Yes.” Ezra takes the necklace from your hands and helps you put it on. Your eyes don’t leave his as he clasps the piece of jewelry behind your neck, his large hands brushing the skin there.

“It’s beautiful,” you say when you remember to thank him for the gift. But the tears are still there, threatening to fall from your eyes, “Ezra… Please, don’t go.”

The request leaves your lips softly, a pleading look on your face makes Ezra’s smile fall from his face. Holding your hands tightly in his, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment.

“Little bird, I need to ask you a question that might be unfair to you, but it has been distressing my mind since I’ve learned of my departure.”

Suddenly, your heart starts hammering inside your chest with the suspense Ezra creates between you too. You squeeze his hands, silently encouraging him to keep talking.

“Before I do, however, I want you to think before giving me an answer. Please, don’t say anything you might regret later.”

“Ezra.” You choke out, “Why are you being so cryptic? Say what you mean already.”

A ghost of a smile tugs at Ezra’s lips before he says it.

“Come with me. I know it might be too soon but…”

Your eyes light up instantly at the proposal. You want to say yes immediately, you don’t have to think twice to give him an answer. You’d go with him in a heartbeat. Still, you bite down a smile which gets impossible at his next words.

“I-I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m rapidly falling in love with you. There’s not a day where I don’t think about you, about us and I– I know this feeling all too well.”

A pause hangs between you two as you process again what he said. Ezra is full of surprises tonight, and he doesn’t expect you to accept his love or his proposal, but when you lunge yourself forwards, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his lips, he knows your feelings are reciprocated.

“I-I feel the same, Ezra, I–” A breath escaped your lips, “I have been trying to put a name on it, but for some reason, I could not… But now I know.”

The smile that brightens his face makes you smile too and, for a moment, there’s nothing in the world you care about besides this moment. You and him, in each other’s arms, forgetting about the world around you for just one night. If it were up to you, you’d leave with him right now, in the middle of the night, barefoot in your nightgown. You’d go anywhere, as long as he’s with you.

“Will you think about my proposition?” He asks once you’ve both pulled away.

You smile at him, “I already know the answer. I would go anywhere with you, Ezra.”

Ezra was quiet for a moment, holding back his excitement from you, “Would you leave your family, and everything you have here, just to be with me?”

Standing on the tip of your toes, you press a light kiss on his lips, then another on his cheek.

“I have nothing here,” you whisper in his ear and brush your lips on his earlobe, “Not without you.”

“Little bird.” He shudders under your touch, the breath he exhales comes out shaky and nervous, but he puts his hands on your shoulders and looks right into your eyes, “You have your family here. Your home. You can not just give everything up for me. Did you forget about what people say about me?”

A silent pause hangs between the two of you as you think about what he said. You know he wants you to go with him, but he also has his insecurities and the lack of faith in himself makes you want him even more.

“Do you want to know what I wished Aphrodite when I was little?” You say, breaking the excruciating silence. Ezra looks up at you, waiting for your answer, “Someone who loved me. For who I am, not– Not for my name or not for my parents or the money they have. I wished for someone who truly loved me.” You can see Ezra’s misty eyes in the moonlight as you speak, “I know it’s stupid and childish, but I–” You shake your head, then smile, cupping his cheeks with your hands, “But then I met you and, although you did not make the best first impression, I still fell for you. Ezra, I love you.”

Ezra exhales softly, closing his eyes and leaning to your touch.

“I love you too, little bird.”

“Then, let’s run away.” You smile at him, brushing your thumbs on your cheeks. Ezra smiles back and suddenly hugs your waist and brings you close to him, wrapping you in a tight hug that makes the air in your lungs escape.

“Let’s run away, little bird.”

…

The plan was simple. By midnight of the next day, you’d dress up and meet Ezra in the back of the house, where a carriage would be waiting. He instructed you not to bring much with you, only the essentials, so you pulled an old, smaller chest that you used to use when traveling as a little kid from the closet and chose some clothing you’ll need for the trip. Ezra told you he’d buy you a thousand dresses when you get home.

Home. The thought of having a home with Ezra warms your heart and it makes your stomach bubble with excitement.

You spend the entire day trembling with anxiety, trying to hide your secret as best as you can, and abstaining to socialize with your family. Maybe it is insensitive, you realize at lunch, to avoid them when you’re leaving to probably never see them again, but keeping secrets is not one of your talents.

In the afternoon, you write a letter to your sister, explaining why you’d leave and that you’d write whenever you can. You hope she understands. Despite what people might think, you are not enemies with her, she’s your sister after all and you love her dearly.

When the time comes, you bid goodnight to your parents, taking a moment to look at them one last time. Your mother, mad about something your father told her, dismisses you easily, but your father gives you a smile and nods. Tears water your eyes as you walk away from them, straight to your bedroom.

Before going to your room to play the waiting game, however, you give a pouch of coins to two guards to help you carry the chest outside when it's time to go and an extra pouch to keep their mouth shut. After that, you go to your room and sit on your bed, waiting.

There’s something about leaving a place that you’ve lived your entire life that makes your heart clench with homesickness – and you haven’t even left yet. Things like your room and your belongings you plan on leaving behind make your heart clench.

With a sigh, you close your eyes and let yourself fall on the mattress of your bed for one last night before leaving for good.

When the time comes, you hear a soft knock on your door from the two guards you paid to carry your things. You let them in, to take the chest, but before you leave, you give them instructions, saying you have something to do first. Clutching the letter in your hand, you walk to your sister’s room and shove the envelope under the door, pressing a palm on the wooden material and exhaling softly.

You wish you could knock on the door and kiss her goodbye. But you don’t have time. For now, a letter will do. You’ll write to her once you’re settled in your new home.

When you turn around to leave, you collide with someone, though. Your father.

Oh, no.

“Father–” You mumble, hands trembling, “I–”

“Save your lies, girl.” He interrupts you with a stern voice that makes you tremble, “My office. Now.”

You don’t have time for this, you have to meet Ezra in the back gardens soon. But you obey your father, following him to his office, the place where you’re sure he’ll give you a lecture and stop you from running with Ezra. You wonder how he found out. Maybe the money wasn’t enough to buy the guards’ silence.

But you’re taken off guard when you see Ezra standing in the room. Your eyes widen and your breath gets caught in your throat. Did your father find him in the gardens? Did someone tell him he was waiting for you?

“Little bird,” he mumbles quietly as you enter the room with a confused look. You can see that he wants to say more, but your father starts speaking.

“I was ready for a perfect night of sleep, after a long day in the offices, after all, it’s all a working man wishes, but imagine my luck when none other than Mr. Ezra Waley showed up at the manor telling me about a plan to elope with my eldest daughter.”

Your eyes widen and your gaze turns to Ezra, a confused look in your eyes. It couldn’t be. Ezra wouldn’t betray you like this, he couldn’t. But as the guilty look falls on his face you realize it’s true. Ezra told you off. Your heart clenches at the thought of it.

What changed? He told you he loved you… Was it a lie or he simply just changed his mind? Maybe your mother was right after all.

“Tell me, daughter, is this true?” Your father asks and it takes a minute for you to return your gaze to him, eyes filled with tears.

“Yes.” A weak sound you don’t recognize as your voice leaves your lips, “Yes, it is.”

A silence hangs in the room as your father leans back on his chair, watching your eyes glimmering with tears. He knows you well, he knows you have things to say, so he’ll sit and wait until you say what’s in your mind. Ezra risks taking a look at you, pain written across his face as he sees the tears rolling down your face.

“Little bi–”

“Shut your mouth.” The words drip like venom from your lips, “How could you?” Your voice trembles, but you still refuse to look at him, “How could you lead me to believe you reciprocated my feelings and then betray me like this?! Break my heart into a million little pieces and stand here as nothing has happened?!”

When you finally look at him, you see the hurt in his expression. The face you adore so much scrunched in pain, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“I–” He hesitates, aware of the authority in the room, your father, “I couldn’t let you come with me, little bird, not if it’d bring dishonor to your family.”

You feel your face fall and a frown resurges between your brows, a confused look taking over.

“While I was waiting for you at the carriage, a feeling took over me.” Ezra continues, “I couldn’t snatch from your house, from your family, not without a warning. I am true to my feelings, though. I know I love you like I’ve never loved anyone, but I must do the right thing. So I came to ask your father for his blessing. To beg for it.”

The confession makes your heart warm and a feeling of shame takes over you. You shouldn’t have doubted him or his love, you shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Your face feels warm as you look away and meet your father’s gaze once more. The look he gives you is one you know.

In the end, it wasn’t your mother who was right. It was your father.

“Ezra…” You whisper softly.

“I would never betray you, my love.” He approaches you, reluctantly taking your hands in his, “Still, if your feeling towards me had changed in the last few minutes, I’ll understand. I’ll leave and you’ll never hear of me again.”

You feel his grip on your hands loosen and you grab them tightly, holding them in place, “No. No, Ezra, they haven’t.”

Then, you look at your father again, eyes begging in your silence, knowing he’ll understand it. The older man sighs, leaning over his wooden desk with his elbows.

“Are you sure you love him, my dear?” He asks in a soft voice, the voice he used to read you bedtime stories when you were little.

“Yes, father. As sure as I’m standing here.”

He sighs again, leaning back on the chair and lacing his hands over his stomach, “Your mother will never approve of this.”

With a pout, you make a show of looking around the room, “Well, I don’t see her around.”

Ezra’s eyes widen before he laughs softly at the stolen comeback. Even your father smiles as you say it, bold and confident. A few seconds of tension pass in silence as the oldest man in the room eyes you two, but takes a little longer staring at Ezra. It’s like they have a silent conversation with just one look before your father speaks.

“Then go.”

Your heart bursts with happiness as you show him the brightest smile you’ve ever smiled. Throwing yourself over the table, you give him a quick hug, along with a thank you and a promise that you’ll write. Ezra gives him a nod in gratitude before you grab his hand and leave the room, running and leaving your life behind.

…

The cold breeze from the night gives you shivers on your skin as you sit down on the porch stairs to appreciate the night sky. The lanterns from the wooden porch are the only source of light in the backyard of Ezra’s house – your home. You close the cloak around you tightly, trying to stop the gelid breeze to infiltrate the fabric of your clothes. Not long after you sit down, you hear footsteps behind you and, soon enough, a warm chest touching your back, long legs on the side of yours, and strong arms snaking around you.

Ezra leans his chin on your shoulder as he speaks, “And what is my lovely wife doing out here in the cold, all by herself?”

It brings a smile to your face as you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, “Just appreciating the darkness. It was a night just like this when we met.”

“Was it, now? I wouldn’t remember. Someone kept my eyes busy that night.” He teases, fingers squeezing the sides of your torso. You squeal lightly and giggle, biting your bottom lip as you look at his warm brown eyes.

“It’s been a year already,” you whisper, touching his face. The scruff on his skin tickles the palm of your hand as usual.

“Yeah?”

You nod in silence, taking in every detail of his face. A year since you met the love of your life. And several months since you ran away with him. You couldn’t be happier to wake beside the best man in the world every morning. To get to see him every day, not only in the dark, hidden from everyone. You’re truly living the dream.

“I love you, Ezra,” you tell him, sighing and closing your eyes. You clutch the little green emerald on the chain around your neck, smiling as he responds.

“I love you too, little bird.”

And you thank Aphrodite for finally granting your wish.

............

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[sexen-sven]

Lucius malfoy

Warning this contains: smut, multiple orgasm, spanking, harsh words, knife play

Things you should know before you read:

(s/c) - skin colour

(h/c) - hair colour

(Y/n) - your name

(l/n) - last name ( your)

Somewhere below the Malfoy manor in a deep red room that was heavily enchanted with no escape laid a girl with beautiful (s/c) skin on the beautiful deep red silk sheets already pooled in her own cum and blood, chained by each extending limb to a post of the bed, blindfolded, and two thick silicon vibrating dildos from the Muggle word ranging from the sizes of 6-8 inches deeply shoved in her soaked cunt.

While the rest of her body was littered in either blue and purple bruises/hickeys, dried up blood, or wounds that were still slightly bleeding out.

In this very room all you could hear were the screaming and moans that erupted from this girls mouth as she tried to stop the dildos to continue letting her over stimulate yet again, none the less it was proven difficult with her legs being spread apart so nicely giving anyone who walked in a clear view of her throbbing pussy as she pulled against the chains on her arms

This girl was an order member and known as the black cat around the Wizarding word she was: y/n l/n

~ㅅ~

At the top of the Malfoy manor

It was quiet nothing but the quill being used to write by the head of the house hold; Lucius Malfoy. As the manor was nearly empty except for the few house elf's and their master, as his wife was out of town and his son far away at Hogwarts.

Stress and fed up with his work Lucius sighs as he runs a hand through his long, silky platinum blond hair.

"Bloody fudge...laying out all this work for me" Lucius mutter to him self but then thought back to his little slut, play toy, his mere pet being tortured by him to get more answers to the dark lord in a room beneath his office.

Smirking to himself he decided to go pay his little whore a visit. Tossing his papers aside he powerfully waved his hand over the floor right under his seat making the ground ever so slightly shaking a portion of it sliding off aside revealing a stair case to a darkly lit passage way.

A wave of his hand was all it took for the powerful dark wizard to open a securely, heavily guarded door charmed and casted with many spell.

Making his way down Lucius started to unbuckle his belt, loosen his robes, all while running his hand through his hair getting comfortable and ready to strip.

Reaching the final step Lucius look around seeing the familiar corridor lined up with candles alone each wall going in a liner path, a space for each door.

Each door had a different purpose but the one door with heavy metal plating and a secure surrounding was the one that Lucius had visited quite often.

As it's purpose was: his personal sex torture room

Lucius took long strides power defining every step he took and when he finally reached the room he waved his hand yet again and the door open.

~ㅅ~

with a swift movement and a thud of something heavy opening you gathered all your remaining energy and lifted your head to see if it was the the usual house elf to change your sheets or the one who was keeping you captive here.

With exhausted eyes Lucius came into your view,

"Ma-Master !" was what came out of the (h/c) girl mouth with a huff as it took some strength to even talk when there was so much pleasure pulsing through your veins.

Lucius just looked down towards where you laid and just smirks and stares at you and says nothing as he strips into his boxers.

You watch him walk over to you with his wand and he mumbles something under his breath that you couldn't quite catch but you knew what it was as you felt a rush pleasure forming a quick knot in you and near to breaking

He had just increased the speed of the dildos

"Ahhhh...mmm...I'm gonna cum" you scream out as you release your high

"Who said you could cum in my presence" Lucius asked you, no more like demanded for an answer

You cowered in fear and looked to the other side as you tried to avoid his terrifying gaze, but shivers still were sent down ur spine as you heard a louder voice, Lucius's louder voice thundering across the room asserting his dominance

"I asked you who let you cum in my bloody presence, do not make me repeat myself y/n" he demanded again

".... no one" you quietly mumbled out

He peered down at you "what" he question in disbelief while harshly grabbing your jaw turning it as he slowly caressed your lips

u looked anywhere but his eyes and then finally tried to yell out "no one master....I'm sorry master"

Smirking he looked at you "hmm...that's better you little cumslut" he harshly spat you

you whimpered as you felt his cold hand brutally

Rub your bud and soon enough slide both the dildos out and shoved two digits in instead and started thrusting in such a fast pace you just accepted it pushing ur hips forward moaning along the way

Every few moments he would rub his thumb over the open slit of your carven and trace around your pussy in a such a way teasing you further

Slowing adding another finger you we're going to have another orgasm

"Mmm...ahhh!! Let me cum!...please master!" You kept begging Lucius and you didn't want to repeat the same mistake

"Hold it" Lucius told you in a stern voice

Thick hot tears where streaking your cheeks as you tried to continue hold your high in for some more time

"I can't...ahhh...master" and you finally released after a lengthy moan

Lucius look at you with fury "didn't I say to hold it in you stupid whore"

With a rough force he grabbed each chain and broke it, then flipping you with your arse over his lap

"You deserve a punishment..*scoff* cumming twice in my presence without permission" Lucius said to you in a sly tone while he started caressing your ass, following with his rough hand then coming in contact with your ass turning it a bright shade red, a hand print taking form on one cheek

"Please Lucius I'm sorry...ahhh" you tried to beg but another slap was struck making ur butt slightly shake

"Ahhh...but that's not my name, and I thought I told you to count my little whore" he spat in a teasing but dominant manor

Once again spanking you

"mmm...th-..thre-" not even getting to finish, but Lucius already has stuck his hand harshly against your soft (s/c) skin

"FOUR eeep" you said through pain but pleasure was also laced through your voice

~ㅅ~

"haaa...haaa thir...thirty...ni- nine" you said breathlessly

With another spank already on your arse now looking blue and purple due to bruising in some area but still bright red covering most of it he caressed your ass one again like he had the few time through giving you, your punishment before slapping ur cheeks again

"For- forty...nghhh" you said with a dry mouth, tears running down your ass, but most of all you enjoyed every. last. S p a n k.

A amused hum escaped Lucius' lips as he caressed your ass yet again in a slow motion "have you learned our lesson hmmm y/n? " he questioned

"Mmm mhmm " you said muffled as you nodded with your head buried deep

"Mmmm let's reward you shall we" he told you with a grinned plastered on his gorgeous face as he walked over to a drawer (cabinet) and he skimmed his eye across the drawer and pick up a small sleek black and red butterfly knife and made his way back towards you.

In a fashionable manner he opened the knife and ran his hand over the under ur breast and gave you a slight squeeze on your right breast and he then started to crave in 'cum slut' in capital letters that made that area slightly bleed out.

As he carved that in your skin you felt a slight sting rush through your vein and you tried to get out of his hold but he places a firm hand on you

"Stop squirming y/n" He told you as he continues to crave into you

When finished he pushed you roughly with you ass sitting up in the air and in a swift movement he took his boxers off and without any warnings shives his thick lengthy cock into you and started to thrust without letting you catch your breath or adjust to his size.

Groaning while giving you no stop as he continues to pound into you while grabbing a hold of your waist with one arm and hold back both your arms with his other hand as you were screaming and moaning while he constantly hit your g spot over and over again, and you just couldn’t get enough, while you buried your head in deep into the deep red sheets as your eyes felt as if they were rolling into the back of your head and you’re toes curling and squeezed as your stomach churned in pleasure

~ㅅ~

After some time you felt him twitch and get sloppy and he just kept on going

While moaning you yelled out “ahhh...mmmm please master pleasee”

While continuing with a steady voice he asks “please what my toy, what do you want from your master, come on don’t be shy” he toyed with you

“mhmmm pleas cum on me master....fill me up with all your cum...ahhh ha” you said shamelessly not thinking about anything else but wanting him to release his thick hot seed all in you

He starts slowly but sloppily making his way up your body leaving wet hickeys behind earning very lewd moans from you as he then starts groaning in your ear while he cums in you

With a last thrust he pulls out and let’s go of your body and watches you collapse on to the bed having no support to hold you up and your legs shaking in bliss satisfaction

Lucius with a quick wave of his wand changes the sheets new and has the house elf clean you up while he watches your chest rise and fall as you sleep with a peaceful look his gets dressed, takes a seat right beside where you sleep, while gently brushing your hair aside, covering your body up but is shaken when he sees your body move and your arm wrap around him with a smile ghosting upon your lips as you continue to sleep

He decided he would stay there a bit longer until the house elf abruptly came into the room and announced with his head slightly bowing to his owners back “mistress has returned home master”

——————————————————————————

(not edited)

A/N: I hope you enjoyed that if you have any more requests I will try my best to write them I hope that you can give me feedback since I am a new writer please don’t be afraid to request

[salty-fang]

Twisted fate: Sugar edition

Chapter 2-

Marinette thought she was getting better. She really did. After all, she had adjusted to Gotham’s dark atmosphere and had only cried about losing Adrien twice. Per day. For a month. She was puzzled as to how she had ended up snarfing down Rocky road ice cream whilst bookmarking photos of Adrien. Upon noticing his toothy grin, captivating eyes and playful demeanour, a wan smile fixed itself on her face.

“No. Bad Marinette!” She remembered how quick he dropped her for Gabriel’s wishes and felt the cold, clammy hands of betrayal lace themselves around her throat.

‘Tight. Too. Tight.’ Her chest constricted as she let out a choked gasp. Her hands reached to shut her desktop down. Memories, terrible memories, flashed in her eyes. She had recognised those olive-green eyes. Those eyes clouded by greed, thirst and hunger. Hunger to trample the hopes of any opposition. Hunger to humiliate her. Hunger to seize every last important thing from her.

In a flurry, photos of her and Adrien came raining down. The mirth and adoration in her eyes evaporated, replaced by pain and bloodlust. Her bluebell eyes radiated a frigid coolness as her eyes fell upon the picture of Adrien and her third anniversary. Traitor. Her doe eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a thin line. Anger rolled off of her with each picture she ripped. She had read the attacks, the taunts and jabs at her for being a ‘whore, gold-digger’ and ‘attention seeker’. She had seen Adrien’s unresponsiveness to the situation, leaving her for the hounds to devour. Coward. She’d seen pictures of Adrien and that witch frolicking as she was left to pick up the broken pieces of her heart.

An unquenchable flame raged in her heart. With every memory, the flame burned brighter until the ache for love became unbearable. She hadn’t asked to be broken. She hadn’t asked to not be good enough. She hadn’t asked to lose control of her heart like she did but it still happened.

‘We could never be satisfied,’ she thought. The dull thrum of her heart rang in her ears as silence hung in the air. She knew she was anything special but, damn it, she thought she could be enough.

“Why wasn’t I enough?” Her shoulders shook with the effort of holding onto her sanity. A war waged in her mind as she searched blindly for anything, anything to ground her. She shouldn’t cry. He wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of breaking her. She wouldn’t -. A sound that could only be described as pure grief ripped through her throat, slashing the air. She rocked herself hoping, wishing and praying for his return to her.

She fondly whispered “He’ll come back. He always has, the idiot.” A glint of resignation shone in her eyes before she slept, her back against the wall by the door.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Damian loved Gina. He really did. He loved her composure in the face of danger and her frankly reckless attitude. But if one more person breathed her name, he would throttle them. So, when Todd teased Alfred for his fresh attire for Gina, he silently thanked the heavens for the opportunity to release some energy. He pounced, lunging for Todd’s throat wrapping his hands loosely. Nah, who was he kidding, his hands coiled tightly around his neck.

“Demon spawn, the hell?” Jason managed to choke out. Damian relished the pink hue that had crept up Jason’s face.

“Tim-no. Richard- ack, not you either,” Bruce started, voice hesitant. “Uh Duke?” he tried fumbling about for glasses and his coffee. “Ja-"

“Don’t even think about it old man, it’s Damian, you dolt,” Jason winced as he felt the nails dig into his neck.

"Ah yes, Damian, let go of him this instant. It is Damian, right? Right?" He heard the thud of someone's body hitting the floor.

Damian knew he hadn’t lost his touch. Assassin’s blood would forever run in his blood. His family were moronic buffoons, that he knew. But, if they thought he was turning ‘soft’ then they weren’t doing much to challenge the status quo and prove him wrong. They were simpletons through and through. And though he would never admit it, he loved them for it. As Jason warned him to watch his back, he couldn’t deny the thrill, the rush of adrenaline that ran through his body. Man, he loved this family.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Marinette felt weird. She knew something was wrong. The lingering feeling had teased her subconscious for a while, now. And if the urge to constantly pee, excessive vomiting and constant fatigue was anything to go on... she was pretty certain she had an inkling as to what was happening.

All it took was that test and she had her suspicions confirmed. The two lines that appeared filled her with dread and excitement. Choosing to focus on the latter for now, she squealed, shaking and shimmying the best that she could with her heavy feet. She was PREGNANT.

Crap, she was pregnant. They hadn’t talked about children. They hadn’t talked about raising a child. Their apartment wouldn’t have enough space for all of them. They didn’t have a name. They knew nothing about childbirth. They simply weren’t ready. Worst case scenarios ran through her head. What if she wasn’t a good mom? What if Adrien left her? What if he hated their baby? Or worse, what if she hated her baby?

'Wait... they used p-p-protection. So how?’ The notion cut off her train of thoughts, turning her into a blushing mess. She could feel the heat sear through her cheeks and she could see the contrast of her freckles against her flushed face.

‘Oh no. She couldn’t tell Adrien; she couldn’t burden him like that. Not when he already had so much on his plate. She wouldn’t tell him but maybe she could hint at it. Yes, that would be the ideal course of action.’

Adrien really was the most oblivious human alive. Marinette had forgotten about that factor. Two months later and Adrien still hadn’t gotten a clue. She refused to believe he was that blissfully ignorant. She stroked her developing stomach, contemplating whether she would just tell him or surprise him with a kid. She was opting for the second option as Adrien had looked more stressed than ever, running errands for Gabriel more frequently. God, she hated that man. He constantly critiqued her for ‘not being good enough for his son. After all, she was a Baker’s daughter.’

Marinette could still remember the times when Gabriel had tried to persuade her to leave Adrien without an explanation. He’d threaten her, try to win her over with money; anything to let his son be rid of her. Marinette knew the pain of being left in the lurch. She knew the pain of wondering if it was her fault. She knew the pain of wondering where it went wrong. She wouldn’t do it to him. Not like that.

And then, he’d broken up with her. She had regretted nothing. She’d left him whole. Maybe a little damaged but not scarred. And that was most important to her. She’d regret nothing. It was the least she could do to salvage what was left of her chipped heart.

Marinette had awoken to tender kisses placed on her forehead. Her Nonna looked like a mess. She looked frazzled yet she focused her energy into calming a frantic Marinette.

“Netta, my fairy, I’m,” Marinette whimpered. She could hear the shakiness in her Gigi’s voice. She was a bad luck charm. She always caused pain for everyone. Slowly, she peered up at Gina expecting disappointment to be etched on her face. Yet her face shone with love and her eyes were filled with pity, no, guilt. “I’m so sorry. I broke our pact. I’m no better than them.”

She curled in on herself, head bowed, breaths shallow.

“I’ve hurt you Marinette, I’m a failure.” A short sharp ‘enough’ cut her off. Leaving no room for deliberation, Marinette said

“Nonna, please, if anyone’s a failure, it’s me. I mean who would want a single, unemployed pregnant woman?” Gina sat with wild eyes, jaw slack as she processed what Marinette had just said.

“Hold up, you’re PREGNANT?”

“Have been for the last three months but you know.” She shrugged. She’d processed this already but Gina hadn’t. Gina had switched from pained to bubbly in the span of a few seconds. She screamed before peppering Marinette with questions. Marinette had answered most of her questions and told her killing Agreste- which one she had been referring to was a mystery- was off the table. She’d crush him and make him beg for mercy in her own time. She told her how ‘Adrien hadn’t known’ and by the time they’d finished, it was past midnight. Gina pulled her into a bone-crushing hug before tucking her into bed.

Marinette woke up with a sore back, throbbing headache and bloodshot eyes. She noticed Gina had crashed on the floor beside her sofa. The events of what had occurred last night replayed in her mind. She really fell asleep with his picture beside her for comfort. She’d called his girlfriend a witch. How was she supposed to look him in the eyes after that? She couldn’t even look herself in the eyes. She really wasn’t looking forward to their ‘date’ today. She rose, albeit reluctantly, and stretched. With a steady hand, she applied her mascara onto her lashes. Clad in a baby blue sundress and floppy hat, she set out in a bid to meet Adrien.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Marinette had arrived late but she had not expected this. Adrien and her had been enjoying their date and she had loved her triangle sandwiches. So, when Lila sashayed over, hips swinging , her mood soured and she groaned. Loudly. Apparently, that fuelled Lila's desire as she launched into an awkward kiss, teeth clashing against Adrien’s. Adrien remained motionless as she kissed him once. Twice. He felt her bite down hard on his bottom lip. He felt tears gather in the corner of his eyes. He tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. He felt her tongue slip into his mouth, demanding satisfaction.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ he wondered. ‘I should be enjoying this. So, why does it feel so wrong?’

He responded on instinct, battling her tongue with his own, with an intensity he had saved for Marinette. When they pulled apart, saliva intertwined and breaths heavy, he noticed the hungry look in Lila's eyes. She seemed to forget Marinette’s presence as she moved to straddle his hips. An over exaggerated cough had Lila leaping from his lap, yelping before her eyes settled on the culprit. Marinette. Lila chose to sit beside Adrien, wrapping an arm around his tense shoulders.

“Still disgustingly fake as ever Lie-la,” she drawled. “No personality but I see you have paid for implants.”

“I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you again but I’d be lying. And I don’t lie,” she blinked innocently. “Now scram before things get a little steamy for your virgin eyes.” Her obnoxious voice grated on her nerves. She bit back a comeback as the urge to puke bubbled in her throat. She couldn’t stop herself as she vomited. Heavily. On Lila. At least Adrien had the sense to bound away before he got hit.

Lila was pissed. Marinette had wrecked her outfit with her sick. She couldn’t twist the situation maliciously as anyone with eyes could see Marinette was pregnant. So, in blind rage, she punched Marinette in the face.

“You deserve more, bitch.” Lila spat at Marinette. Lila had intended to punch her in the stomach when she felt a hand wrap around her fist. Marinette had growled at her and she actually felt scared. For the first time in her life, she backed down. She stalked away towards ‘her Adriboo’, who was having a hard time stifling his laughter. She pouted as she realised that her pride bruised.

“That will teach you to mess with me Lila.” Marinette levelled a glare at her before she bolted.

'Run.

Run! Don’t look back!

Just run!'

She didn’t stop until she was safely on her balcony and so, she missed Adrien intervening, Lila screaming and the stranger slinking in the shadows. She just felt so dizzy. Her insides swirled and she slumped against the balcony ledge. The hand she clamped over her mouth made the sensation worse. She threw up and from the sounds of it, she had hit someone.

‘I have to stop puking on people,’ she thought as she heard the cry of indignation from below. ‘Poor sap.’ Slowly, she retreated back into the hotel room to get some rest before she met the people who made her grandma so happy.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Damian was having a horrible day. First, Grayson had chosen him as the latest victim of his matchmaking attempts. Sitting in a cat themed coffee shop, he had listened to an attention seeking gold digger ramble on about herself for an hour and a half. Did she not get tired of her own voice? He knew he had, for certain. He was ready to curse Grayson’s awful choice in people again when something piqued his interest. A harlot was engaged in battle with an angel. And from the look of discomfort on the harpy’s face, the blue-eyed beauty was winning.

He knew he shouldn’t have followed her when she left but he felt a strong pull towards her. He knew she felt sick but he hadn’t expected her to puke on him. Granted, he was hiding and the balcony was pretty low... but still. He screeched in disgust as his suit and hair were covered in what looked like bird shit. It smelt like it too. So yeah, pretty horrible day. At the very least, he could look forward to Gina coming to the mansion later today. She’d cheer him up. He just knew it.

Damian was annoyed. Gina was late. Very late. And he’d been waiting for hours for her to arrive. When was she going to get here? A soft rap on the door sent him flying out of his seat as he scrambled to unlock the door. He’d expected Gina but on their doorstep was that angel from earlier.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Go check out the salt version @loveswifi

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[prioritysope]

Cheating

Reader: Female

Character: Oikawa Tooru

Rating: Explicit

Chapter: 20/24

A week has passed since Gaby's sleepover with her new friends. Now she was in her boyfriend's apartment. Tooru was playing video games non-stop, and from the way he spoke into the microphone, she assumed he was playing with Matsukawa and Hanamaki. Gaby was in her boyfriend's room, where she practically heard Tooru's every insult every time someone killed him. Besides insulting the boys.

She was looking at things on her phone when an idea crossed her mind. She put the phone on the bed, then getting out of bed to go open the door and head to the living room slowly. Oikawa was with his back on the couch and his legs spread. She was going to go straight to do what she had planned, but she preferred to rail him up little by little.

"Makki, how can you not..." He stopped what he was about to say when he saw his girlfriend walk towards him and ask to sit on his lap, which he allowed. Gaby's legs landed on either side of him, straddling Tooru's lap. She rested her head on his shoulder, him going to play again. "Is something wrong, love? Issei, shut up I'm talking to my princess."

She shook her head.

As time passed, from time to time, she would move in circles above him. Hearing him swallow hard, she knew everything was starting to work. She knew how to have Oikawa where she wanted. The only problem will be to edge him a lot, because he would go wild and that would be taking the dominant side of him to the fullest. Although she wouldn't complain much; although, with his dominant persona, he is more talkative and with the situation they were in, it was not viable.

"Babe, stop." Tooru commanded, his voice deeper than usual. But you ignored it, just following your movements on now his hard cock. Gaby watched as Oikawa clenched his jaw and bit her lower lip, trying to suppress any sound, but failed. Being close to him, it gave her the opportunity to hear murmurs through his headphones, causing her to giggle softly knowing that the boys heard that. "It was that Gaby hit me and it hurt, morons."

Eventually, she got off her boyfriend's lap, kneeling between his legs. Not even she could bear the despair of having her boyfriend's cock in her mouth. Just thinking about it made her mouth water. She carefully brought her hands to the Volleyball shorts that Oikawa was wearing. She could see his hard, throbbing cock, begging to be released from captivity.

On the other hand, Oikawa turned off the microphone, excusing himself to his friends that he should go to the bathroom, when he saw the intentions of his little girlfriend.

"You are a naughty whore, huh." Tooru murmured, thanks to the excitement of the moment, his voice turned deep and husky, causing Gaby's legs to look like jelly. She could feel her core throbbing in anticipation of what was about to happen. "You couldn't wait for me to finish to do your thing."

Oikawa out the controller in the sofa. A soft whimper falls past his lips as his fingers take a hold of her hair and pull her pretty face closer to his aching cock. The loud moan he lets out when she finally wrap her lips around his angry tip is unusually loud and throaty. Gaby look up at him as she take more of his length into her mouth and the sight above her just keeps getting better. Tooru is handsome and charming, his visuals undeniable but when he gets lost in pleasure, he's absolutely breathtaking.

Gaby start sucking him off with a little more rushed movements, definitely not wanting to keep the boys waiting in the game. And when she start moaning around his length, fingers firmly wrapped around the base as Gaby looked up at him only to meet his pleasure filled gaze, she knows he's close.

"Do it, baby" Gaby whispered against his dick, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his tip, "fuck my throat, come on, I can take it", she encouraged him to take control and of course Oikawa doesn't miss a beat before he straightens himself and gives her a silent nod. He holds her head in place as he starts thrusting his cock into the warmth of her mouth, making sure to hit the back of her throat with every movement and the more he moves, the sloppier he gets.

Kei cums with a loud moan of her name and a painful tug on her hair before his hands reach for something to hold onto as the aftermaths of his orgasm take over. He pulled her onto her knees after Gaby pushed his shorts back up, making sure they sit right on his hips before she placed a soft kiss on his thigh and then come back to stand in front of him with wide eyes and swollen lips.

"I love you so much, fuck" Oikawa whisperrd before he pulls Gaby into a kiss and even though he would never admit it, Gaby knows he loved the way he can taste himself on her tongue.

[suckerforsmylex]

Ripe Peach - Pt. 8

Joker POV

She stood there in my blazer, looking delicious with the makeshift Harley outfit on. An insatiable thirst for her coursed through my veins, making me clench my fists violently. Her body was a beautiful paradox.  There was a profound softness and pureness to it, like the flesh of virgin fruit on my carnivorous mouth. Yet, underneath her sweet candor, I picked up the scent of a more…carnal inclination. The thought of possessing her thrilled me immeasurably and I had to run my fingers through my hair to reclaim my thoughts from the dark place they had settled into.

You’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you sweetheart?

Yes, she was a precarious creation and my favorite kind of challenge. Her voluptuous curves spilled out lustfully and brazenly on display.  The diligence she put into hiding behind fabric was undone by the very quiver of her breasts as she sauntered toward me. There was an alluring plumpness to her lips whenever she looked at me, whether in a moment of poutiness or pleasure. I was addicted to the flush of her face, taking great pleasure in inflicting her with doses of humiliation.  Seeing her cheeks warm and redden whenever my desire simmered over into an intense stare became an addiction that required almost hourly satiation.  My eyes would pierce her, chipping away at her chastity, until she would pinken with a pretty blush.  She unfurled for me at only a glint of my metal grin.  

That’s it.  Melt for Daddy, my little peach. I want to see some cherry in those cheeks.

My old flame had caused a conflict within my battered brain.  My mind had trouble processing Harley’s unannounced, grabby little fingers all over my luscious peach.  Yet, I was captivated by how she flushed at Harley’s desperate advances.  It was uncontrolled and her confusion at her own arousal was scintillating.  I relished the heat of her surprise and shame as it coursed through her, with her wrists restrained by me.  It emanated through her and onto me, from their spontaneous synthesis.  Chemical reactions appeal to the mad chemist in me. The forming and breaking of bonds, the unstable elements, they have a certain undeniable charm.  Still, I always feel the dominating urge to exert my power and neutralize these reactions. I marked her as MY property, biting her ravenously and growling as Harley came forward, but it was to no end. Harley is insatiable. She doesn’t understand what boundaries are. Her ultimate mistake was to grab the delicate treasure that is my Peach’s ankle.  I hadn’t even been able to kiss there yet.  I cocked the gun and aimed at Harley in a manic, angry bloodlust.  She should be dead, but the feeling of holding the gun with Harley at my feet and Peaches against me having her scorching awakening, rendered me so hard that I couldn’t concentrate.  I gave her the option and she chose to spare Harl.  She asked so nicely that I couldn’t kill her.  My bloodlust vanished, replaced by a serious, intense longing to be inside of her.

That’s it, beg Daddy to stop – such a good girl.    

I wanted to rip her panties off with my teeth and destroy her.  Her utter ignorance of my compulsion with The Bat only distracted me for a moment and I reluctantly suppressed the urge to reach out and choke her soft, vulnerable neck.  I let the twitch in my jaw soften and gave her a stern warning.   “Don’t bring up The Bat.  I’m still cooking up some ways to kill him, but right now, I’m more interested in murdering you in bed.” She bit her lip and I could tell without even examining her that she was dripping for me.  I led her, gripping her at the nape of the neck, into my black, 4-door and threw her onto the back seat.  Her eyes called for me to impale her right there but I had better plans.   “Lay down,” I commanded, stifling the urge to release myself.

That’s it. Get on your back.  Daddy’s gonna’ make you squirm first.

She surrendered beautifully to me and I slammed the door shut, jumped into the driver’s seat, locked all the doors and turned on the car.  I hit the gas and accelerated to 90mph and I could hear her moan softly. She likes me crazy and wild and I decided to give her a little test.  “Are you Daddy’s good girl or Daddy’s bad girl?”  She was so thoughtful, always wanting to please me. I felt her struggle with her answer before landing on saying, “I’m whatever you say I should be Daddy.” This is what I mean about her being dangerous.  She’s a literal split between so very good, and so very naughty. I purred uncontrollably and grabbed the clutch, shifting gears abruptly.  “That’s a perfect answer. Daddy wants to you be a bad girl right now.  Take off your clothes, but leave your panties and heels on.”

Put on a show for Daddy.  I can taste you on my tongue already.

She was eager to please me, ripping off the blazer, jacket and shirt with reckless abandon. I closed my eyes for a moment while weaving in and out of the traffic, thinking of how her bare skin felt against the leather of the back seat.  I opened my eyes and had to look up to get a glimpse of her in the rear-view mirror.  

Fuck.  

It took all my strength to avoid slamming into the back of the charter bus in front of us.  I barely missed the collision as I jerked the car to the left, laughing hysterically. “Mmmmm. Now spread your legs and touch yourself until we get home and don’t you dare cum.  Say yes, Daddy J.”  She spread her legs, parting them slowly with her left on the seat and her right onto the car floor and began touching herself aggressively.  

Say it, say it, say it, say it…

“Nggg…Yes Daddy J.” She said my name as I got onto the expressway and I nearly flipped us off the side rail of the onramp.  I gripped my left hand onto the wheel and pinched as much of the side of her ass as I could, hard and fast.  I wanted to hear her squeal, and squeal she did.  The sound made me think of all the times I had ever plunged into her, thrusting hard into her tight center.  I was in pain, constricted and bulging against the fly of my pants.  I quickly unzipped and released myself, sliding my hand down my shaft and rubbing the dribble of liquid from my tip into my palm.  “Look at what you’ve done to me. You’re such a naughty, naughty girl. I am going to have to spank you. Shall we use the cane when we get home?”

Daddy’s cane awaits, my juicy peach.

“Yes Daddy.  You’re the boss Daddy. You should use the cane.” I looked at her again through the rear view and she was breathing heavily, slipping into her folds and rubbing all over.  She was beginning to place a finger underneath her panties and into herself when I decided to stop her.  I braked hard and pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned the engine off. “Did I say…to put your fingers inside of yourself?”  Her eyebrows raised and her eyes widened and she knew she was in trouble.  I began to laugh uncontrollably and then I lunged into the back seat, gripping her with both hands at the throat.  Her eyes were wide and frightened and welling with tears. “Youuuu, are just too naughty for your own good, aren’t you?  You don’t put your fingers inside unless I tell you to.  Take off your panties.”  She removed them and I quickly shoved them into her mouth.  I pat her between her legs, making sure to graze her clit.  She was a sopping, slippery mess.  “Tell Daddy you understand.  Touch it and say ‘Daddy, I don’t put fingers in my pussy unless you tell me to’.”  I still held her in the choke hold and only loosened so that she could speak as much as she could, with the panties still in her mouth.  Her speech was garbled but she repeated the edict.  “Daddy, I don’t put fingers in my pussy unless you tell me to.” She reached down to touch herself as I had instructed and I released the grip, stroking her face with my lips, kissing her and biting her ear. “Spit the panties out baby.”

That’s right, repeat after Daddy, my sweet whore.

I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out of the car and onto the open highway.  “Okay, Peaches, you want to be Daddy’s bad girl?  Then I’ll fuck you like a bad girl.”  She started to protest but I put my tattooed hand over her mouth and started to cackle.  Her body glistened against the backdrop of the night sky as the cars whizzed by, blinding us with their lights.  I slammed her onto the hood of the car and held her there with my forearm as I bent down to nuzzle into her nakedness.  “I want a taste of you right here and right now.”  She writhed underneath me as I slowly extended my tongue and stabbed into her swollen pussy.  Her dampness bubbled onto my tongue and her cries became louder as I lapped at her relentlessly.  She tasted sweet and was endlessly slick as I darted my tongue in and out. “Always so juicy for me.”  When I could feel her release building, I stopped and jerked her back again by the hair. I took my other hand and grabbed her crotch, dipping a long finger inside. “You come when I tell you to.  Do you understand?”  But it was too late for my little peach to stop herself.  She was already bucking onto my hand and crying out as she orgasmed.  It was an intense orgasm that she couldn’t will herself to stop and I made sure to pour it on thick as I looked at her with strict disapproval.

You’re in trouble now, Peaches.

After the last aftershock of her orgasm subsided, I pulled the long finger out of her slowly, never breaking the intense glare I was giving her.  I looked at my glistening finger and shoved it directly into her mouth, feeling for the back of her throat.  “Taste your failure, you dirty slut.”  She choked on my fingers and tried to utter an apology. “I’m sorry Da…”  

*SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!*

I backhanded her across the face and gripped her chin and to my surprise, she looked up at me smiling and giddy, and panting.  I reached into the back of the car and grabbed my golden cane and then back down to grab myself and stroke my thick length.  The little cock tease was killing me.  I leaned in close, pressed my cheek to hers and spoke directly into her ear.  “What did I just say?” I kissed her earlobe and she breathed into my ear and started to moan.  I gripped her by the throat again, shouting loudly.  “WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST SAY?”  Her doe eyes looked watery again as her apology came tumbling forth from her mouth. “I’m sorry, Daddy! I’m so sorry, I know I wasn’t supposed to come.”  I released her and slammed her back onto the hood of the car.  “That’s right.  You weren’t supposed to.  I guess we’re going to have to continue treating you like the whore that you are.” I grabbed the cane and smacked her across the thighs and watched her body jump.  The sight of it made me throw my head back and laugh.  “Ok Peaches, you ready for Daddy to murder that pussy?” She nodded profusely.  Of course, she was ready.  

They are going to draw chalk lines on the pavement, after I’m done with you peaches.

I held the cane across the base of her neck so that it choked her tightly.  “Spread your legs wide.”  I placed the tip of my cock at the base of her entrance and when I felt she couldn’t take my teasing anymore, I forced myself inside with one thick thrust. “Ahhh!”  She screamed at the feeling of me filling her.  “That’s right doll face, I’m going to destroy you.”  I thrust into her in a frenzy, disregarding her screams and purred into her ear with each thrust. “Fuck Daddy, it hurts!”  I looked down at the tears rolling down her face and it only served to spur me on.  I spoke to her with mock sympathy.  “Oh no, it hurts, sweetheart?  Is Daddy too big for you?  Too fucking bad.  Turn over so I can finish stretching you out from behind.”  She started moving slowly, but I couldn’t wait any longer and I yanked her by the arms and pushed her down onto the hood, kicking her feet apart roughly with my shoe.  

Are you crying baby girl?  I’ll give you something to cry about.

She was spread open in front of me and I couldn’t stop my wicked idea from coming to fruition. “You know, we never christened this cane.” I grabbed ornamental cane by its decorative knob and began to push the straight end of it into her, knowing that any minute she would realize and protest. “No Daddy, please!” She turned back over her shoulder with a desperate look in her eyes.  I gave her a grin, my words coming out of my mouth like silk. “Now Peaches, you know when you’re bad that you deserve to be punished. Isn’t that right?  Now, push back and fuck Daddy’s cane.”  She agreed reluctantly and began to push back with hesitation, her tightness sliding onto the metal of it, drenching it with her juices. “Yes, that’s right.  Let’s see a more spirited performance for.”

Again, she obeyed my command until I could see that she was starting to enjoy it, moving back and forth onto it with more fervor until her voice broke through the nasty, lewd sound of her cunt being impaled.  “Daddy, Daddy, fuck, please, please, please let me come!”  I pulled the cane from her swiftly and stabbed into her again with my cock.  “Come now! Come all over my cock.  Give Daddy all of it!  Give it to me!  Give it to me!  Give it to me! Fuck yes!”  She came all over me, bucking into my crotch and triggering my own release.  I felt it gushing into her, hot and satisfying as she slumped onto the hood unable to move until I carried her into the passenger seat and wrapped my blazer around her and buckled her in, kissing her sweetly. “How can one peach be so deliciously sweet, yet so horribly rotten at the same time?”  She smiled up at me in a daze and I began driving us towards my home base.    

[nano--raptor]

The Game

Pairing: Vampire! Bucky x Female Reader

Word count: 1,500

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol mention/consumption, smut, smutty ending, implied smut, Bucky's fangs

A/N: Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ for the Second Chance Drabble Challenge! Based on the prompt below and featuring my love, Vampire!Bucky! Thanks for reading!

“No fair that’s cheating!” “No, I improvised. There’s a difference.”

-----

You and Bucky had a game. A game that you’d play when you were out in public, with friends, or out for dinner, and it was simple. Try to turn the other person on. The first one to initiate physical contact (general displays of affection aside) would lose. It wasn’t all bad, as you usually both ended up winning in the end, but it was fun, and added excitement to your nights out.

Tonight you were going to your friend Steve’s for drinks on the patio, and of course Bucky looked fucking incredible. Perfectly broken-in, dark wash jeans, and a black button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone. As soon as he walked out of the bedroom you wanted to get your hands on him. He winked as he walked by, and you stalked into the room, choosing a fitted pair of cropped jeans and a cozy, open-back sweater. Usually you’d wear a cute lace bra underneath, but tonight you chose to ditch the bra, hoping Bucky would enjoy the view of your naked back. You strapped on a pair of heels, and after double checking your reflection, were ready to head out.

-----

The drinks and conversation both were flowing at Steve’s, everyone was enjoying the evening. You’d naturally separated into guy and girl groups, Steve's friends Sam and Clint were there too, but it had been so wonderful to catch up with your girlfriends Nat and Wanda. Every now and then you could hear Bucky’s laughter float over towards you, the sound always sending warmth through your veins.You sat on the patio sofa with your back to him, giving him a nice view of your figure, with your legs crossed, lifting your wine glass to your glossed lips. Every now and then you’d make eye contact, and he’d wink or you’d bite your lip. You could see the spark in his eyes and you loved it, loved having his gaze on you from across the space.

Bucky sat looking absolutely relaxed and comfortable in his skin, which is one thing you loved about him. It was sexy as hell, and his charm never failed to captivate you just like it had the first time you met him. He seemed to notice every glance you stole at him, his eyes flicking to meet yours every time. It felt like he had the upper hand, even though nothing had really happened yet. You did brush his arm as he walked past to refill his drink earlier, and he dropped a kiss on the top of your head on his way back, but other than that, it had been a pretty tame evening.

You still felt like you were burning up though.

“You’re staring again!” Nat’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you tried to hide your blush at being called out by taking another sip of your wine. “You two are so ridiculous,” she teased.

“Why, what do you mean?”

“You’re practically eye fucking each other! I would tell you to get a room, but I wouldn’t put it past you guys to just go inside Steve’s place and start going at it somewhere.” You blushed again, but Nat’s smile was warm and knowing. She always bugged you and Bucky about how in love you were, but she didn’t mean anything mean by it.

“Oh come on, I like to think we have a little more class than that!” You paused, and then smirked back at her. “Although, if Steve happened to have an empty sofa somewhere…” Your voice trailed off and Steve piped up from somewhere behind you.

“Oh hell no. No one does the dirty on my couch except me!” Bucky’s laugh rang out again and you were pretty sure you got goosebumps this time. You risked sneaking a glance over your shoulder again, and you nearly dropped your glass when you saw him.

His fucking fangs were out. 

Bucky laughed full out, head thrown back, hand to his chest and suddenly your heart was pounding in your ears and you couldn’t look away. He rarely had them out just for the hell of it, it usually only happened when he was feeling extreme emotions. Or when he was trying to make a point, which was clearly what was going on here.

He damn well knew what he was doing, and you were definitely going to lose this game tonight.

You swallowed thickly, barely registering Nat’s voice as she tried to get your attention. Bucky caught your eye for a brief moment, and then slowly, teasingly, traced his tongue over his teeth, feigning interest in whatever Steve was now talking about. You drew in a shuddering breath and blinked, tearing your eyes away from him. Shit.

“She’s gone,” Wanda mused, her and Nat smirking and giggling over your obvious lust. You cleared your throat and turned back to them, clearly flustered, your face heated in a blush.

“He’s doing it on purpose!” You tried to keep the whine out of your voice, but Nat laughed and flashed you a knowing grin.

“Looks like someone’s getting lucky tonight!” She winked and sipped her wine, while you sighed in defeat, finishing yours off with a single sip.

-----

Once you arrived home, you followed Bucky into the kitchen, dropping your bag on the counter and stalking over to him. You wrapped your hand around his wrist and when he turned to look, you grabbed his shirt collar, yanking him close and crushing your mouth to his. He smirked against your lips and his hands flew to your hips, pulling your body against his own. You licked into his mouth, nibbled his lip, dragged your tongue over his teeth, and Bucky swallowed your every moan as it quickly grew heated.

"You lose," he rumbled between kisses, amusement lacing his voice. You whined in response.

“No fair, you cheated!” Bucky barked out a laugh and pulled away, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“No, I improvised, there’s a difference.” You pouted and yanked your chin from his grasp, but leaned into him, smoothing your hands over his chest and underneath his collar, over his shoulders and back of his neck.

“Hardly… you know when you show me those fangs it’s game over.” Your voice had dropped to a whisper and you trailed your fingers along his jaw now, and over his bottom lip. It quirked into a lopsided grin, flashing those goddamn points at you again.

“I know. But showing so much of that gorgeous skin is cheating too, sweetheart.” With that, Bucky’s hands wandered over your skin, smoothing up your back and pulling the sweater down over your shoulders with a growl. You gasped as he exposed your breasts to the cool air and reached for him, wanting to pull him close. He lifted you up by your hips to sit you on the counter and trailed his mouth down your neck, licking and sucking your exposed nipples into his mouth one at a time. “I was thinking about this all night, do you know how badly I wanted to rip this damn sweater off your shoulders? I almost couldn't stop myself."

Your fingers flew into his hair, lightly scratching his scalp as his attention to your nipples pulled breathy whines from your throat. Each swipe and nibble of his tongue and teeth on your sensitive tips sent a spark straight to your core, you were aching for him already, getting wetter by the second.

“Bucky,” you breathed, needing more of him. He broke away and found your lips again, kissing you hard, grasping the back of your neck and leaning you back. You could feel his hard length pressing into the side of your thigh and you moaned into his mouth, your body clenching in anticipation. You both moved to undo each other’s pants at the same time, hands clashing and fumbling until you were finally successful. Bucky kept one hand clenched in your hair while his other grasped your hip, his mouth still on yours. You squirmed and maneuvered impatiently until his cock was prodding your entrance and he was pushing into you with a groan. A shudder rippled through you from finally having him inside. Bucky rolled his hips and nibbled your throat, his breath fanning across your skin with every thrust.

“Are you sure that I lost, baby? Because this feels like a win to me.” Bucky kissed your mouth again and pulled back enough that you could see his equally blown eyes and kiss-swollen grin.

"Let's call it a draw, we both win." You held his gaze for a beat, feeling your lust melt into pure affection for him for just a moment before he jerked his hips and pounded against that sweet spot deep inside. You cried out and captured his lips desperately, clutching onto him for dear life, enjoying every delicious part of him, before finally breaking away, panting.

"Hell yeah baby."

-----

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