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chrissturnsfav · 2 months ago

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rapper!chris being superr clingy when star comes back from recording 🙏🙏

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris being clingy

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬, since i didn't have time to work on a smut prompt tonight, here's something cute from my drafts :)

you barely make it through the front door of chris' house before you kick off your shoes and head straight upstairs. your whole body feels heavy, weighed down by hours in the studio, the same songs looping in your head, your voice worn out from take after take. you just need a shower. maybe food. then sleep.

but the second you step into chris' room, he's on you.

"'bout time, kid," he mutters, pulling you in before you can react. one arm hooks around your waist, the other slides up your back, pressing you into him like he’s trying to fuse you together. he smells like cologne and weed, his skin warm against yours.

"chris," you sigh, barely managing to drop your bag before he’s walking you backward toward the bed.

"what?" chris says, grinning, lips brushing your temple. "missed my girl."

"you saw me this morning," you mumble, voice muffled against his hoodie.

"and? still missed you, mama."

you groan, trying to push him off, but he just drops onto the bed, pulling you down with him so you land half on top of him, half tangled in the sheets.

"chris—" you groan, frowning up at him.

"nah, you ain't goin' nowhere," chris says, locking his arms around you. "you stayin' right here. stop poutin'."

you huff against his hoodie, face being pulled into his chest with one of his hands cradling the back of your head lovingly.

"you smell like the outside," he mutters, lips brushing your jaw.

"yeah, because i was outside," you mumble, starting to squirm in his grip. "chris, let me shower."

"later." his hand slides under your shirt, rubbing slow, lazy circles into your back. "too much work. jus' stay."

you exhale, sinking into him despite yourself. he’s always like this when he gets in these moods—clingy, warm, all handsy, like he needs to make sure you don’t slip through his fingers.

his fingers drag up your spine, slow and absentminded, then dip under the waistband of your leggings. not enough to start anything, hand just resting on your hip gently.

"you actin' all stiff," he murmurs, voice low. "don’t like when you come home all tense 'n stressed. gimme all that, lemme take it."

you shiver but don’t move. he's solid under you, broad and warm, and your body is already betraying you, relaxing in his grip.

"you really don't got shit to say?" he teases with a little cheeky smirk. "for once?"

you groan. "chris."

"there she go," he laughs. "i was 'boutta be real concerned if you didn't start whinin' soon."

you lift your head just to glare at him, but he just smirks, smug as ever like he always does.

"you done?" you ask.

"nah," he says, flipping you onto your back so he can stretch out on top of you instead, arms caging you in. "i'm comfortable now."

"you're so annoying," you huff, giving in with a roll of your eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"yeah, but look at you. givin' in already," he says easily with a snicker, kissing your cheek before dropping his head against your shoulder.

you roll your eyes, but you don't move. you'll admit, you love being in his arms when he gets all clingy like this. hell, he's lucky you're not babying him right now.

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @sturns-mermaid , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @dvinesturn , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101 , @malsmind , @mattsleftball , @softhyunieeee , @whore4mattsturniolo , @tezzzzzzzz , @corspebridedelrey , @softhyunieeee

@chrissturnsfav ™

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abigailovesz · 1 month ago

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𓂃 when COWGIRL!READER, JJ & the pogues all go on their first gold hunt. 𓂅

season 1 jj + the poguesˎˊ˗ & protective!jj

"alright, you guys got rope?" john b questioned from the drivers seat, you in the back beside jj, who was fiddling with his little surfboard he probably made out of the trash on the streets. Pope and kie in the very back while sarah sat in the front. "got it" pope confirmed.

"grappling hook?"

"we don't have a grappling hook, we're not batman."

pope, ever the smartass, spoke again to john b. The twinkie made a small turn into the property of ms.crane's home, crickets and the sound of the vans wheels surrounded the atmosphere, proving how dark it was outside. the van came to a halt, and jj spoke. "lets go get rich, guys"

you nodded, shifting to sit upward now that everyone was ready to get out. "yeah, hell yeah" john bs footsteps crunched against the rocks around the the vans side door, opening it with a loud slide. "lets go get that wheat in the water." pope commented, making jjs head perk up.

"weed? i'm up for weed?"

you laughed, hitting jj's arm playfully. "wheat, jj. He said wheat." jj rubbed his arm where you hit it, making a faux pained face and gently hitting your arm back, like a little tap that's it. all of you made your way to the vine covered fence, sarah in the front of the makeshift line, kie behind her. "ladies first," kiara said, watching sarah lift herself up and over the fence.

"ah, nope, this one's a woman, not a lady" he pointed at you then his back hit the fence and he put his two hands together, gesturing for you to use them for help. "jj, a lady and a woman-" john b said, but trailed off when you obeyed and easily used your boots to find its place on his palm, shifting up and climbing over the fence.

you all carefully walked through the weeds, toward the house but then the lights suddenly turned on. JJ grabbed you in one swift movement, following the others behind a tall tree. "flashlights." kiara commanded, slapping the flashlight repeatedly, same as the others.

"okay, so, she has motion sensored lights." your voice, southern, rang out quietly into everyone's ears with a small pant from the sudden adrenaline. jj bounced his camo bandana off his mouth, humming under his breath while his arm stayed very close to you. "we could uh..move really slowly, maybe?" he suggested.

sarah made a face and shook her head the slightest bit. "what?" pope scoffed and looked at jj. "that's not how it works." john b then spoke, eyes wide while whispering. "Oh, shit, lets throw a rock at it."

"that's a really good idea, lettin' the old granny know were boutta break into er' basement" your sarcastic response made jj chuckle but you covered his mouth. "Throw a rock at it?" pope said in a disbelieving tone. "anybody got any better ideas?" kie asked, crouched down beside sarah.

"what about the breaker? In the circuit box on the porch. We used to play hide n seek here as kids, and if we were brave enough we'd go all the way up to the porch. I've seen it." sarah recommended, making you nod but jj gave you a disapproving look.

"crain chops people into pieces"

"yeah, but so what, she's like 85"

kiara sighed and looked at sarah. "here, i'll go with you." sarah nodded and you smiled. "oo, can i go?" jjs eyes widen, shaking his head and grabbing the loop of your jeans. "nuh-uh, i really dont want her to get chopped up," he said toward the others, tugging you closer.

"Me?chopped up? never" you said, standing up and making jj's whole arm lift up from still being looped up in your jeans. "oh, come on jj, she literally owns a shotgun, dont you?" john b looked up at you, still crouched down. " yep, yeehaw right?" you joked, grabbing jj's wrist and dropping it. "no, no- wait, promise you'll stay right next to sarah? or kie, please?" jj stood up, a finger pointed at your face.

you sighed, looping a pinky around his own. "pinky promise, dude" you let go and turned around, quickly following behind kie.

a/n: there not together yet!! but, obviously we can tell jjs crushing. (sorry its short, but you get the protectiveness, hopefully??")

#꒰ ˙ my works. ﾉ #꒰ ˙ cowgirl!reader. ﾉ #jj maybank #outer banks #jjmaybank #obx x reader #jj maybank obx #jj maybank fanfiction #jj outer banks #jj thoughts #jj maybank fic #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #obx fic #obx #jj obx #obx fanfiction

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whoskimii · 9 months ago

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cackles and requests cuddlefucking with size kink toji from my wonderful queen venus

STAWWWP you made me blush (call me that again :3)

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > toji x you. filthy filth! he has a size kink <33 also breeding kink ig??? (bonus :3) tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

if toji loved something more than gambling, it was definitely the way you seemed so small beside him. of course, anyone looked tiny next to that man. it wasn't breaking news.

he had an unhealthy obsession with the way he was literally twice your size. he loved knowing the fact that he was able to do whatever he wanted to you and you couldn't fight back. even though he didn't. but only because he loved you tolerated you. it's almost like you were inferior to him, in some way.

he loved pointing that out, whether it's explicitly or implicitly. sometimes when you were cooking and tried to reach for something on a shelf that was way too high for you (poor baby :3), he'd magically appear behind you and place a massive hand on your hip before grabbing what you were looking for. he would lean down and whisper in your ear. "call me if y'need help, doll," he mumbled. "y'know you're way too small for that."

or some other times when you were observing yourself in the mirror, he hugged you from behind. at first glance, it seemed sweet. but he would never miss the chance to wrap his large hand around your throat and squeeze a little. not enough to hurt you but definitely enough to knock the air out of your lungs for a few seconds. he just loved reminding you how strong he was and how weak you were. he was almost taunting you. it was like reminding you of your place, in some sense.

it was a late night when you found yourself cuddling with toji. he loved moments like this— moments when all he could focus on was your size difference.

your back was pressed against his broad, warm chest. his face was tucked in your neck and you could feel his breath tickling your sensitive skin. you were holding a teddy bear, which he hated. yeah, he had literal beef with a damn plushie. he knew how ridiculous he was, especially for a man of his stature but in all honesty, he couldn't give two shits. he just hated the way you'd cuddle it and clutch it to your chest tightly.

the moonlight entered the room through the shutters, creating a cozy atmosphere. he lifted his head from your neck and clicked his tongue as he noticed the teddy bear. he grabbed it and threw it over his head before the plushy landed on the ground with a soft thud. you whined in protest. "toji..." you mumbled.

you were about to sit up but he prevented you from doing so. he held you to his chest and nuzzled his nose in your hair. "pay attention to me," he ordered quietly. "forget 'bout that damn bear. you should throw it, anyway. it's childish."

his words made you scoff. he was the one being childish. "but i like it... was a gift from my grandma..." he chuckled. "yeah ? she's dead, ain't she ? you can throw it away now." you rolled your eyes. "shut up."

he planted slow kisses in your neck, grinding his crotch into your ass. "to'..." you mumbled. "mhm ?" he hummed, his voice muffled by your skin. "m'tired..." he chuckled. "yeah ? don't worry, doll, i'm 'boutta do all the work." you suddenly felt his large hand sliding under your panties, which made you gasp quietly. you relaxed against his chest and hummed.

the tip of his middle finger began playing with your cute little clit as he continued kissing your neck, eventually dragging his lips down your shoulder. after he gathered enough wetness, he circled your needy entrance, occasionally prodding and pushing at it. "don't tease..." you muttered. he chuckled and finally slid a thick finger in your warm little cunnie. "theeeere you go. feels good, huh ? i don't think that shitty teddy bear can finger you this good."

you sighed, feeling the absence of the comfy plushie you normally held close. "toji... don't tell me you're jealous of him..." he clicked his tongue. "me ? jealous of a damn bear ? think again, sweet cheeks." yeah, he actually was. he even hated the way you'd refer to that stupid thing as he. almost as if it was a human. the pace of his finger picked up, which made you whine. "gunna come, to'..." he smirked. already ? "nuh-huh. keep that for my dick."

you sighed as he pulled his finger out and suddenly forced it between your lips. he watched you taste yourself, all the while pushing his sweatpants down. "m'gonna stuff you nice and full and you won't make a noise. 'kay ?" he mumbled lazily before pushing his tip to your sloppy little hole.

he entered you and once he was bottomed out in your soft pussy, he groaned. "shit." he cursed. he began rolling his hips against yours, thrusting in and out of you while keeping a disinterested expression. his green eyes settled on the teddy bear that was still on the ground and he kept staring at it as he fucked himself into your tight little heat, almost as if he was taunting the plushie.

he frowned as you clenched around him and pawed at his back. "toji..." you whimpered. the sound of his name falling out of your lips like that made him twitch inside you. "yeah ? y'want my cum, s'that it ? i know." the way you were pinned underneath him by his weight made him groan. "shit... y'so small, y'know that...? could fucking break you if m'not careful enough." he sighed.

the thought of making you pregnant flashed in his mind for a second. he pictured you all nice and swollen with his baby. imagining such a little human carrying his baby— the baby of such a massive man— made him shiver. the contrast between you two was obvious. "i'll give you my cum, if that's what y'want. gotta put it to good use. don't have as much as i used to, y'know ?" he smirked at the little moan that escaped your lips.

"toji, m'gonna come..." you sighed. "yeah, i bet. with the way she's clenchin' around my cock, s'easy to tell." his eyes flicked to your creamy pussy, watching the way your little hole swallowed his large dick eagerly. "s'always a wonder how you can take me." you hummed, feeling how your gummy walls stretched around him. "m'coming, toji..."

he smirked. "go ahead." it only took you a few other thrusts to gush around him. "toji !" you moaned as your lower lip got caught between your teeth. "fuck— gonna cum too, doll." he frowned and came right after you, tucking his head in your neck.

after toji came down from his high, he stayed inside you and chuckled. "don't think that damn plushie can get you off that good, huh ?" you hummed breathlessly. "toji... you jealous...?" you mumbled. he sighed and kissed your forehead. "yeah."

oh.

ayo whose horse is that

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

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f1samcro · 2 months ago

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Insecurities

Masterlist

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

You and Jax had been together for years. He’d made a dumb joke when he was 15, and 14-year-old you folded. Gemma had been hesitant when you two announced your engagement four years later, and even more hesitant when she watched her 19-year-old baby boy promise you to, “Treat you as good as my leather and ride you as much as my Harley.”

She watched as you sat at the bar to finish your homework (you finished school whilst Jax chose to drop out), watched as you would look after Jax after a tough run. By the time you were 20, she was itching for grandkids. She had accepted you. Decided that you were good for Jax, brought out this soft side in him that he would’ve completely lost if you weren’t there. So when you and Jax told her when you were 21, that she would be a grandmother, she was ecstatic. But then you also told her a few weeks later that you had lost the baby. So she approached your next pregnancy, three years later, cautiously. And then you had Abel. Thomas followed two years later. You and Jax, at the ages of 28 and 29, were the king and queen of Charming. And Gemma loved you, albeit, she got frustrated with the boundaries you’d set when it came to the children and the club, but if she said anything, she would have Jax to deal with. It wasn’t like you kept the boys fully away from the club. But you rarely let them at the clubhouse, and never told them what their dad was really off doing on his work trips. But she liked you. She respected you. So, Gemma Teller-Morrow, kept her mouth shut for once.

Until now. For someone who was often confident, not taking shit from jealous crow eaters, you were awfully quiet. Ima was saying something to you, before turning, flipping her hair and storming off. You quietly walked to your car, leaving the lot without a word. So, Gemma texted Jax, worried. And he promised to talk to you later that night.

By the time he got home, the kids were asleep, and his dinner was in the oven. He ate quickly before walking through the house to find you. Maybe you hadn’t heard him coming home, because you were standing in front of the mirror, twisting and turning, prodding and poking. “Darlin’?”

You jump, turning from the mirror and dropping your hands. “Hey, baby.”

“What’re you doin’?”

“Nothin’. Was boutta shower.”

He frowns, obviously not believing a word you say, “Give me five and I’ll join you.” You stiffen for a second, before nodding and slapping a forced smile on your face. He raises an eyebrow, before crossing the bedroom and grabbing your hips. “Abel have a good day at school?”

“Yeah. Said they did painting,” you refuse to meet his eye, until one hand reaches up towards your chin.

“What’s goin’ on, baby?”

His hand moves to cup your jaw, thumb running across your cheek bone. You smile softly, “I’m just tired. Thomas was running around all day.”

You can tell he doesn’t believe it, that he really knows what’s going on. Jax leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, “I love you. I’ve loved you for 14 years, and I know when you’re lying to me. Now go shower, I’ll wait.”

“I thought you wanted to shower together?”

“You need a minute alone. It don’t matter what I want. Gotta look after my girl, even if it means I gotta let her shower alone when she’s feelin’ bad ‘bout herself. Go shower, I’ll get you some pyjamas and find a movie.”

He gently nudges you towards the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

When you came back out, your favourite pair of winter pyjamas was on the bed, flannel with little bunnies on them, and your favourite disney movie was on the small TV in your bedroom. You change quickly, glancing at the mirror, only to see that Jax had covered it with a sheet. The door opens, “Feelin’ better?”

You nod, staring at the covered mirror, his arms wind around your middle once he makes his way to you. He was warm, always was, “You’re warm.”

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek and nudging you towards the covered mirror. He reaches out and pulls the sheet off and then wraps his arms back around you, “Look at you. Most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. My wife. Mother of my children. Ima doesn’t know what she’s talkin�� about. You’re even more beautiful than you were when you were 14. Havin’ my kids did you good.”

He holds your chin towards the mirror, so you watch as he holds you close and talks. And then he lifts you up and deposits you in the bed. You notice that he’d pulled the covers back earlier, as he pulls them back over you. And then the mirror is covered back up, and he’s next to you, pulling you into his chest and playing the movie. You still partly felt horrible about yourself, but he’d helped. A little. So, you curl up into him, “Thank you.”

He looks down, brushing hair behind your ear, “You’re welcome, darlin’, now shh, the movie’s playin’.”

#jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #jax teller imagines #soa #samcro #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy x reader

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s-4pphics · 1 year ago

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click! 1 (e.w.)

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

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes

two. three. four.

A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall

“W-What do you mean you’re moving?”

Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest.

“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”

Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder.

“I got that internship— “

All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek.

“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie.

Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.”

Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought.

“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?”

“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “

“Maya.”

“Hm?”

“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed.

You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person.

People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you.

Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers.

It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming…

“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.”

Oh God. “What?”

She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “

The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.

“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!”

Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick.

“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.”

“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.”

“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”

When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom.

DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization.

DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one.

DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl.

It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work.

DENY REQUEST.

…

DENY REQUEST.

…

DENY REQUEST.

You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed.

Why are people… so odd?

The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?!

Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!

All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one.

Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty.

They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away.

You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name.

ELLIE WILLIAMS.

Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement.

temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval.

… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.

At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you.

She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it.

But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note.

You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.

“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.”

Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend.

Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.”

A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out.

“Sorry, stink. Not happening.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.”

You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “

“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.”

“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.”

Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.”

“You’re so fucking extra— “

DING!

Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face.

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.”

Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”

“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup.

You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.”

“The wettest. Go.”

You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers.

You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear.

“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely.

“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected.

Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.”

“Alright.”

More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads.

“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?”

“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.”

More silence. Fuck, this is awkward.

“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.”

She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder.

“What’d I say!”

“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Oh yeah what.”

“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?”

A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles.

Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish.

Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper.

… Cute.

You’re going to fail statistics over a random.

Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here.

She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable.

Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking.

Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil.

The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention.

Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before.

“Hey. Can we switch the time?”

“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare.

She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?”

You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?”

Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.”

“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?”

A slight wince from her. “… Yup.”

She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge.

“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.”

Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you.

“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.”

Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them.

“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.”

The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face.

“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly.

“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.”

“Sike.”

You scoff in disbelief, “What?”

“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “

You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”

“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “

Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.”

Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.”

“Right.”

“I do, what the he— “

“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.”

“Hm?”

“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “

Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat.

“Wait— “

“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.”

Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee.

Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself.

Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie.

When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word.

You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant.

At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn.

“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.”

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.”

“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs.

She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.”

Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.”

“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.”

“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.”

She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?”

“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff.

“Damn… My fault.”

“I’m chilling. I just need head.”

“Go out! Find somebody!”

You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “

“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!”

You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.

“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.”

Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone.

“Hey, Siri… call Abby.”

“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “

Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment.

You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged.

It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night.

Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it.

Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes.

Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be.

You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure.

Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely.

When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing.

Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you.

The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open.

A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—

“I’m here,” She states plainly.

“… Why?” You croak.

Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious.

“To move in.”

“… Why?”

Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen.

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that?

“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?”

“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “

“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.”

Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.”

She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?

Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder.

“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.”

Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”

Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit.

…

What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...

For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case.

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