#╰ ♡ ✧ 「 🎀 」 — ❪ ic ❫

[princessantisocial]

☆･ﾟ+｡⭐️*ﾟ･ · スイカ · 🍉 · 🍊 ·.+ 𓇼⠀Ｆａｎｔａ⠀◌⠀◯𓇼⠀⭐️ ⠀◌⠀◯

[lecialucille]

₊°ʚ ₊°✧𝖒𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎 𝖎𝖈𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 ﾟ₊°ʚ ₊°

[callmevenus]

[choa-hyuna]

∧＿∧

　 (｡･ω･｡)つ━☆・*。 ⊂/　 /　 ・゜ 　しーＪ　　　 °。+ * 。　 　　　　　 .・゜ 　　　　　 ゜｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ。 　　　　 　ﾟ。　 　｡ﾟ 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

[sugarcandydoll]

had a bad dream so i skipped school today ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

[rosylamb]

Today’s blessings: I got a pretty new lace skirt and a beret today! ♡

Plus my sister bought me some ice cream, and it’s my favorite flavor :D

(*One* of them that is .. it’s so hard to choose !! I like strawberry, vanilla, cookie dough and birthday cake, but I will try most any flavor just cus ice cream is the best!)

My puppies Selah and Nutmeg went to go visit my dad as well, since he can’t move they just sleep next to him and I get to read to him — My mom was having a tough day as well, so I think seeing us helped her, too ♡

🎀 . ˚ * . ʚ 🤍 ɞ

[seattlesellie]

idk i’ve personally taken “man hating fem lesbian” stereotype seriously 😭 i don’t even mean to be scary or wtv but apparently i have a really bad RBF and make a face whenever a man comes near me… but it’s worked bc now i’m dating a super hot butch 🤭

oh for sure this isn’t a joke like 😭 ur butch is lucky to have u as her femme ����💕

[flaggedred]

For @jackokinnies

Well  !  This  Freddy's  location  is  .  .  .  scary.  Something  about  it  feels  off  but  she  can  not  place  what  .  .  .  welp.  Time  to  be  brave  for  business.  ❝  Excuse  me,  are  you  the  manager  ?  ❞

[princessbrunette]

Reader visiting pogue!rafe and wearing the tiniest sundress to thank him for taking such a good care of her and for coming to midsummer. She would give him the sloppiest nastiest blowjob because she is so grateful

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

it was one of those really hot days. the type where your clothes stick to you, even the hot breeze serves as no relief and you just wish to be left alone.

it was rafe’s day off from the building site, which he’s grateful for — as he’s not sure he’d be able to manage under such harsh conditions. the pogue lounges on his beat up couch infront of his shitty tv with a beer, legs spread — the rickety oscillating fan by his side offering no solace from the thick muggy air. just as he starts to find the energy to be irritated with this, there’s a knock at his door. the last thing he needs.

“jesus—what, i can’t have one god-damn day…” he mutters away to himself like a grumpy old man as he storms to the door, swinging it open. lo and behold, there you are in the tiniest, flimsiest sundress holding a crate of beer, looking a little clammy but excited to see him nonetheless.

“hi rafe!” you chime, totally unaffected.

“the hell are you doin’ all the way out here, s’not a nice part of the island, alright—”

“i come bearing gifts. may i come inside?” you ask so sweet and politely, leaving rafe only able to blink at you for a moment before you’re shuffling past him anyway without an answer, humming to yourself. “i know these ones are your favourite. they’re probably a little luke warm by now ‘cos i had to carry them here but if i stick them in the fridge they’ll probably be good to go in another ten minutes or so.” you chat away happily, walking right through to the small fridge on the ground in his kitchen, absentmindedly bending all the way over to shove the crate inside, giving rafe a real show of the delicate panties beneath your dress.

“really you — you walked all the way here for some beers, alright— okay.” he shakes his head in exasperation, turning and flopping back down onto the couch, closing his eyes for a moment at the unbearable heat. suddenly, you were right there.

“not just that.” your voice is softer now, closer. he can feel your breath on his face and it’s cold somehow— like you’d been sucking on an ice pop before coming in. the feeling isn’t unwelcome. his eyes flutter open, and it’s like someone had turned a switch inside of you because suddenly you’re all hungry eyes, wet mouth, hands that fidget for him.

“…no?” he drawls lazily, barely making an effort to shove an eyebrow up in questioning.

“wanted to thank you specially. for looking after me so well after midsummers. you’re a really good guy, rafe.” you’re so sweet it’s sickly and rafe shakes his head, averting his gaze with a lick of the lips and an eye roll.

“look i was just doing what anyone would have done alright — no need to make it a whole thing—”

“please… can i just show you how grateful i am? i’ve been practicing.” you practically groan, hands clenching into the fabric of his shirt.

rafe is starting to realise he has a real problem with saying no and standing by that— because soon he’s got you between his legs, drool leaking down onto his couch from the sloppy way you mouth at his cock, making out with the tip and taking breaks to ease him into your throat until there are tears on your cheeks. you seem as happy as anyone could be, little pleased moans and mewls leaving you periodically.

“the hell did you mean you’ve been practicing?” rafe asks between winces, a sharp pain in his abdomen at the thought of you getting in your blowjob rehearsals with another guy. he didn’t like that, and more importantly he didn’t like that he felt that way.

you reply to him, but it’s all garbled and spitty because his dick’s jammed half way down your throat so he pulls you off by the jaw, furrowing his brows curiously urging you to repeat yourself. you swallow, blinking wide wet eyes up at him.

“dildo.” you hum, before pushing his hand off and getting back to work. rafe relaxes back into the couch with an amused scoff.

“shit. your parents have got no clue, huh? no clue that they’ve got such a dirty little girl.” he spreads his legs a little wider, resting a hand on the back of your head.

you pull your mouth off to pull his cock to stand upright to access his balls, sucking and massaging them. “m’your dirty little girl too.” you respond in a shyer tone, almost like you were asking for permission. rafe blinks at you in zoned out analysis, wondering just what your father wasn’t providing you in order to make everything that came out of your mouth so wrong and freudian. rafe was just some construction working pogue — that’s how he saw it anyway. what it was about him that made you latch onto him so tightly and rely on him of all people for emotional validation and nurture was beyond him. you must’ve been a total masochist.

as you continue sucking he realises he didn’t so much mind the comment. everyone was ‘little’ to him at such a height so he’d let you have it.

“uh-huh. that right?” he entertains it, repositioning your mouth over his tip forcefully and feeding it back down your throat. “gonna let me in that throat now? huh? lemme cum baby? thought you were grateful. show me how thankful you are that i was nice to you, c’mon.” he pants, feet planted to the floor now as he lifts his hips — impatient. each little wet gag fuels him, and he chuckles breathlessly at the way you squeeze your eyes and fists closed to endure his manhandling.

“yeah not — not being very nice now am i? nah… s’what you get for messing with us nasty pogues. savages, baby.” he’s actively teasing you, making fun of the kook rhetoric as he pushes himself toward release. he knows those aren’t your views, but it’s satisfying to poke fun at you all the same.

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

[honeytonedhottie]

things that make me feel clean and refresh⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🫧

♡ ofc nothing makes me feel super refreshed like a shower. i've talked about this in my other posts but showering is like a reset button and you will always feel better after taking one

♡ using baby powder, especially in the hotter months

ok i am in LOVE with the way baby powder smells and i've been obsessed with using it this summer. it rly helps during the hotter months when u sweat and i highly recommend…💬🎀

♡ a tall glass of water with LOTS of ice (bonus points if u add a lemon wedge)

♡ scents with notes of coconut, baby powder, vanilla, and white floral

♡ a cold sheet mask

i say a cold sheet mask because when the sheet mask is room temperature, its still refreshing but if u leave it in the fridge for a couple of minutes before u put it on it makes a WORLD of a difference i swear…💬🎀

♡ getting off of my phone and doing literally ANYTHING else

[zaczenemiji]

Can you do a spiderwomen x kenji sato. Maybe she was sent to retrieve emi and then got caught by kenji, and she was put into a jail like thing. So now she's just stuck there. She starts flirting with him. If yk what i mean 😏👉🏿👈🏿🎀💓🌸

Have an ice cream cone. 🍦

Thanks ♡♡♡♡

Kaiju Heist

Kenji Sato x Spiderwoman!Reader

Word Count: 1,066

Genre/Warnings: Anti-hero, Flirting, Imprisonment, Morally Grey/Ambiguous Reader

Author’s Note: This one was a bit challenging, I hope it’s to your liking. Thank you for the ice cream, I offer you this fic.

MASTERLIST

Your plan was simple: sneak in, grab the baby kaiju, and get out. But things rarely went according to plan.

Let’s begin where it all started—that damn spider.

Long story short, your parents were scientists doing experiments on radioactive spiders. You help in their lab and one day, an earthquake enormous kaiju shook the city, causing a containment breach. The next thing you know, a particularly aggressive spider bit your hand.

Of course, you gained extraordinary abilities. Others would’ve loved this and used them for good—be like Ultraman or whatever. But to you, it’s more like a curse. Seriously, you didn’t ask for this so ain’t no way were you going to become a selfless heroine.

So you did nothing with your abilities; you didn’t hone it whatsoever. You looked at it as if it’s just another arm that grew out of your body. Like grabbing a bag of chips from across the room, you’d shoot spider webs out to get it without standing.

Despite living your life as privately as you could, somehow, the Kaiju Defense Force was still able to find you. So here you are now, in their headquarters.

You stood there, arms crossed. “I’ve told you before, Dr. Onda,” you said. “I’m not looking to be a hero. I just want to be left alone.”

Dr. Onda, chief officer of the KDF, and old acquaintance of your parents, leaned forward. “I know. But this isn’t about heroism,” he replied. “This is a highly sensitive mission and you’re the only one who can pull it off.”

"And why should I care?" you replied coolly. "What's in it for me?"

"Payment, of course. A substantial one. Enough to ensure you can continue living the peaceful life you desire without any further interference from us,” Dr. Onda answered.

“And more importantly, it's a one-time deal. Complete this mission, and you'll never hear from the KDF again."

Your face expressed a guarded neutrality but inside, you found it so tempting—the promise of financial security and freedom from future obligations.

“What’s the job?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Dr. Onda tapped a few keys on his desk console, and a holographic image of a baby kaiju appeared, rotating slowly.

“It’s an entity of importance for the goals of KDF to be fulfilled,” he said. “Recently, it fell into the hands of Kenji Sato. We need you to retrieve it and bring it back to us.”

You studied the hologram, noting the details. "And how exactly am I supposed to move a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby without causing a scene?"

Dr. Onda leaned back, a small smile playing on his lips. "We have a special containment unit designed specifically for it. It's portable and can be deployed with your help. Your task is to get close enough to activate it and secure the kaiju.”

"And the payment?" you pressed.

Dr. Onda named a figure that made your eyes widen slightly. It was more than enough to ensure your financial independence for years to come.

"Alright," you said finally. "I'll do it. But remember, this is a one-time deal. After this, I want nothing more to do with the KDF."

Dr. Onda smiled, “You have my word."

You turned to leave but paused at the door, and glanced back. "I hope you're right about this, Dr. Onda,” you said. “Because if this goes sideways, I won't be the one paying the price."

Going back to the present—here you are, in Kenji Sato’s basement, trapped in a cylindrical glass containment unit, similar to the one the baby kaiju you were supposed to retrieve was held in.

A floating spherical robot circled around you. “We knew they would send someone,” it said in a mechanically feminine voice.

Suddenly, it projected a red light over your body, scanning you. “But I didn’t expect a spider-woman.”

You pressed your hands against the glass, testing its strength. "Nice trap," you said. “But it's going to take more than that to keep me here."

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” a voice came out of nowhere. Turning around, you see THE Kenji Sato with an eyebrow raised and his gaze locked with yours.

The biggest mystery that bothered you upon accepting this mission was how the hell did this famous baseball star had a giant baby in his basement.

You leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest. "So, what's the plan, Kenji? Keep me here forever?” you asked. “Or do you have something else in mind?"

Kenji smirked. "Depends. Why are you here?"

"Why do you think?" you replied, your tone flirtatious. "I was sent to retrieve that kaiju baby. But now, it seems I've found something else worth my attention."

Kenji's eyes narrowed slightly, "And what might that be?"

You gave him a slow, knowing smile. "You, of course,” you answered. “You're much more interesting than a simple retrieval mission."

Kenji chuckled, though he tried to hide it. "Flirting isn't going to get you out of there."

"Maybe not," you conceded, stepping closer to the glass, "But it does make this whole situation a lot more entertaining, don't you think?"

Kenji took a step closer, his eyes studying you. "You're not what I expected."

You tilted your head, your smile widening. "Good. I'd hate to be predictable."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you sized each other up. Finally, Kenji spoke. "You know, if you weren't here to take Emi, we might have been able to get along."

"Oh, I think we still can," you said, your voice low and seductive. "Besides, I never said I was strictly here for Emi."

Kenji looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. "And what if I let you out?"

You pressed yourself against the glass, your eyes locked on his. "Then maybe, just maybe, we can help each other."

Kenji pondered this for a moment before shaking his head. "Nice try,” he said. “But I need to know more about you before I make that decision."

"Fair enough," you replied, leaning back once more. "But remember, Kenji, sometimes the spider catches more than just her prey."

Kenji turned away, a small smile playing on his lips. "We'll see about that."

You didn’t wanna include this in your escape plan because things rarely went according to plan. But in your mind, you noted: flirt, make him fall for you, and escape.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@moonlight-starlight-lady01 @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan

[lecialucille]

⋆｡°✩⋆｡🍦°✩⋆｡°✩⋆🍦｡°✩⋆｡°✩🍦

[flaggedred]

They watch her closely, barely moving at all as she explains. Ah. She thinks it is her high emotions they are concerned with. A jerked motion as the avatar attempts to shake its head, failing and snapping back to its softened A-pose.

> 𝙰 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙱𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 "𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛" 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.

They hope that will suffice.

> 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢?

The A.I. does not wait, zapping in one direction in a flash of particles, its avatar twisted to look back at her. Enough space to hopefully ease her while still on alert if she runs.

[Alright...okay. They'd promised to show her evidence, which meant that she would probably be able to point out some sort of inconsistency. Maybe the footage could have been edited somehow, and she'd be able to find some sign of that -- maybe her description of Gregory had somehow been inadequate, and the rabbit was still thinking of somebody else. She had to hold out hope here, otherwise...]

[Otherwise she wouldn't be sure WHAT to do.]

[In exchange, the rabbit wanted her to stay close, and to not "cause a scene"...she wasn't sure if she'd be entirely capable of that. Gregory was her best friend, after all, and if she was wrong about him...yeah, she might freak out. Maybe she'd be able to control herself just a tiny bit...? Or maybe she should give the rabbit some kind of warning first.]

❝ Okay. ❞ [Cassie took a breath, standing from her hiding spot.] ❝ I, um...if it turns out that Gregory did do something wrong, I can't promise I'll be able to stay calm, but I'll try my best. Is that okay? ❞

[sugarcandydoll]

shouldn't have taken nyquill now me slept in oops ♡🤦🏼‍♀️

[seattlesellie]

ೀ spoiled. ( part one )

📞🕯️🎀 ₊˚⊹♡ “ baby , can you call me back ? i miss you … it’s so lonely in my mansion … “ 🧸🪽🍬

pairing: ellie williams x rich fem!reader

synopsis: the mansion you live in is getting too cold , the silence is way too silent , and not even reruns of sex & the city can help … long story short , you’re feeling lonely . wonder if you can think of someone in your contacts that can help and warm you up , a certain classmate perhaps ?

warnings: girly reader , kind of desperate loser ellie , bratty spoiled rich reader so don't read if that annoys you , allusion to smut , actual smut will be in the second chapter , this is dirty so mdni as usual !

an: i wrote this such a long time ago and it wasn't supposed to be two parts but well now it is !! i will start writing the second part if u guys want to so don't be shy in my inbox. not proofread unfortunately ♡

A perfectly manicured hand rests on the fluffy white and silky smooth duvet. the Egyptian cotton, to be exact, is nothing but lavish, a sanctuary of indulgence in the realm of your own private luxury. Then, you tap your nails atop it, and the fabric crinkles. You gently sigh, but it's more so a grumble, and reach over for the ‘Dunkin’ cup standing on your wooden bedside table. It perfectly matches every single one of the furniture in your extravaganza of a walk in closet, and the bed-frame as well. You take a slow, indulgent sip out of the icy cold drink, take an ice cube out with a straw, and gently suckle on it. You place the drink back on the table, shifting your gaze back over to the flat screen television.

Carrie forgave Mr. Big again, and now she’s seen frantically pacing around the streets of New York City in her shiny Manolo Blahniks. You arch your brows, humming in high pitched amusement. you have the exact same pair!

Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda always seem to bring you a sense of comfort. Usually, your bed brings you a sense of comfort as well, and so does an icy drink with specifically eight cubes of ice. Your room smells like French vanilla, a tinge of cinnamon, and the sweetest pie you’ve never learned how to bake. Most of the time, you’d bask in the scent and feel nice, and cosy, and your nose would scrunch and your nostrils would flare out, then you’d open your favorite food delivery app and order a nice ol’ package of nine chocolate chip cookies. Then, you’d pop open a bottle of champagne and indulge yourself in the sweets deliciousness.

But your appetite is less existent than snow in the middle of August.

You’re also freezing cold, fuzzy socks and all — goosebumps rising on your skin and feeling sharp like Japanese knives.

Your best friend of a white home cat, Toodle, elegantly extends his supple frame, his lithe form gracefully ascending to nestle within the cradle of your neck. His bell gently dingles, he yawns and mellifluously meows. Right now, it sounds more like an old mans groan.

“I know, Toots… m’bored too. And cold, Jesus…” you mutter towards Toodles, who, in his usual aloof manner, closes his eyes and surrenders to the soothing hum of his purring. You puff some air out of your mouth, brain wheels turning as to find out what’s the cause of this blue mood. The air conditioning is completely turned off, you’re sure of it, and the fireplace crackles with warmth. Your entire moisturized body is covered up by a ridiculously expensive thick blanket, and it’s not the short VS nightie that makes you feel freezing, you’re convinced of that. For some reason, the frosty sensation persists. You smack your lip-glossed lips before bumping your head against your mountain of pillows, emitting a low grunt of exasperation.

You don’t know the reason for your boredom, or for this bum mood, because albeit you’ve seen this episode about a gazillion times, it never fails to entertain the shit out of your brain.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re entirely alone (except for Toddles, of course, can't forget him) in a 10,000 square feet mansion. or perhaps it’s because the only lit room inside the mansion is your own.

But then you roll your eyes, because your parents are always away (at St. Tropez this time), so feeling alone isn’t a new and strange concept.

Alas, being alone isn’t the same as being lonely.

Your face twists at the depressing thought, ew. You’re not lonely, just… bored, and unamused, and the icy drink isn’t sweet enough and Carrie’s getting on your last nerve, and the 1,000 dollar blanket is starting to itch the hell out of your hyper-sensitive skin.

Which is why you get up from the bed in a moment of eureka, landing your feet against the fuzzy carpet and slide them into your Ugg’s. “Uh huh!” you chirp, you finally got it.

You’re experiencing an old friend of a feeling called (drumroll…) — anxiety, over your unfinished chem project! It must have masked itself in the form of frigidness and discomfort and loneliness.

But the project isn’t even due till next week, and you rarely get stressed over college stuff unless they’re due the next day and you’re sitting, staring down at your laptop screen, trying to communicate with it through telepathy or something of that sort.

Somaybeit’snotanxiety and maybeyou’rejustloney.

You shake away that uneasy and irritating thought, and sit your pretty butt down on the rolling chair. You click your shiny glittery pen (that always sheds some glitter onto your hand) and open up the thick as brick textbook.

You read the first question out loud.

The correct formula for aluminum nitrate is…

Valentino’s Lòco Toile Iconographe shoulder bag in hot pink?

Nope.

You shake your head, you have got to focus. You place your chin atop your palm and click the pen once more.

Al(NO2)3? or maybe it’s Al(NO3)3…

or maybe you’re so far off you need to close the book shut and throw it out of the window. You’ve always sucked at chemistry.

Which is why you were assigned to be tutored by that auburn haired, green eyed, slightly sullen, tatted up girl who went by "Ellie" — or "El", but you didn't know her like that.

Ellie, is the one who stuttered out your name as she realized you weren’t paying attention to her tutoring, as you had your gaze fixated on the black ink etched on her forearm, a half-covered flannel and a canvas of delicate veins. A bug, adorned with intricate botanical details, unfurled its wings across her skin.

“S’uh… A moth, with ferns around it n’stuff. It’s kind of faded now though”

Her voice was raspy and husky, and she stuttered out your name. Usually, you’d hate it when people got nervous around you. It made you feel odd, ostracized, and you always insisted — you were so damn sweet, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You wore sweet perfume, sweet as goddamn cherries and cupcakes, and your voice was soft and you always smiled brightly, and so what if your purse cost more than a college tuition?

But her nerves didn’t annoy you. In fact, you found them charming, and you found her sweet. You found that all of her “Uhhh” ‘s, and her “Mhhm” ‘s, all of her stammering and her lack of ability to keep eye contact with you to be… infatuating.

Then there was that rich voice, and those eyes, that smile, those hands, those damn toned arms, those biceps and the haircut, the way two short strands of hair always framed her face perfectly and her scent — that you could tell was just a cheap cologne, but mixed with her unique fragrance, proved nothing short of intoxicating.

It was also the fact that she seemed to damn know everything — and that she was always ahead of you, and that her face always bore that coy little smirk when you got a question wrong (which you seemed to get more often than not), and that she would grab your Swarovski pen out of your hand and scribble down the answer for you, just to explain it in detail later.

The way she licked over her bottom lip and bit as wrote down.

With her long fingers and all.

When she spoke, her breath smelled of mint and the faintest tinge of weed, which made you think of how lovely it must be to be able to transform into a damn joint just so she could place you in her mouth and suck —

now you’re sticky, and god now you really are distracted, and not by a cute purse or the sound of rain pouring down on your window. Toodles stretches his tiny limbs and you hear his bell faintly dingle again. He climbs down from your princess bed and jumps up to sit at your lap. You caress down his white fur and he purrs.

You wonder if Ellie likes cats.

You know she likes pussy.

You have got to get a grip.

You massage your temples, attempting to focus on the written down questions again, but the words and the numbers seem to mix into a cacophony of odd symbols and letters, and you’re still so goddamn cold.

Albeit your eyelids droop down slowly, eyes spazzing out of focus, the assignment must be done today.

“Just, finish the damn work and go to sleep. Yup.” You mumble to yourself, a habit you picked up as a result of being alone for most of your childhood, and having to opt for the help of imaginary friends to keep you comfort. Alas, you’re older now and only have yourself to talk to.

You try and follow your command.

The problem is, you don’t know jack shit.

You wish Ellie was here, with her hair sticking to her forehead and your pen in her hand and her old chuck’s glued to her feet, as she sits down on the spare chair aside you with her jaw resting on her knees.

You wish you could hear her faint chuckle as you get another question wrong.

As a tutor, of course.

Not even as a friend, because she’s not.

Definitely not as a lover, obviously, because that would truly be so far fetched from reality — although… right now, you can’t help but think of the way her eyes fall down to your chest as a crimson blush creeps up her cheeks.

And you keep thinking about the time you purposely let your bra strap cascade down your shoulder, just because you wondered how she’d react — Which was with averting her gaze to the side and clearing her throat. Now you think of the time you wore an extra short mini skirt, not that different from the rest of them although a bit tinier, and how you kept rubbing your thighs together just to see whether she’d notice or not, which she did…

You groan and slap your palm against your forehead.

Then, you stare at another question and then at your phone. Toodles chimes in with a high-pitched meow.

“Oh my gosh Toots, so true! I should text her the questions, duh”

You’re not delusional at all, by the way.

So you send her your address.

In the meantime, you make sure your studying environment and your room are as tidy as possible. You grab your sparkly pink pen and place it near the textbook, and you grab a matte black pen for Ellie as well, a thoughtful gesture.

You also apply some strawberry scented moisturizer on your body, and spray your sickly sweet perfume on your pule points.

You slip your feet out of your slippers, and you wear your favorite heels. However, you keep your little nightie on. You’re supposed to feel comfortable, this is your house after all, and the heels — are just a courtesy, you are expecting company, and opening the front door with house slippers is entirely rude, and the silky robe… It’s long enough and proper. Ish.

You stare at your reflection down the mirror, and for some reason, you feel utterly nervous. You’re all dolled up for a person who isn’t a stranger, but who also isn’t a friend. When you coat your lips with some minty gloss, Toodles stretches his tail upwards and meows.

“Psh. Do not judge me, Toots. This is normal, I do this all the time”

Which again is a total and complete white lie, because if it was a regular friend coming over, you wouldn’t have even bothered to fix up your makeup, and you’d barely even get up from the comfort of your own bed.

As a matter of fact, not many people come by your house at all. You have your fair share of friends, but you’d much rather hang out by the mall or at one of their mansions, yours always feels just, utterly suffocating — as giant and spacey as it might be. And sure, you’ve had hook ups before, but you always went rigid when they tried to slip past your panties, and you were always… dry, as an autumn leaf.

Ellie makes you feel anything but dry.

Physically — you shake your head and try getting rid of the thought by giving yourself some good old whiplash.

You find yourself pacing around your room, until you manage to cascade downstairs as soon as you hear the bell ring. With each step you take, your heel taps the lavish ceramic pavement.

“Stay”, you gesture towards your fluffy feline companion, who responds with a squinting of his eyes. “Don’t freak out our company”

You look at Ellie’s face from the intercom’s shiny screen. You look at it so hard you nearly forget to press on the button that’s purpose is to let your tutor-guest in. A couple of strands of her auburn bangs stick to her forehead. Ellie scratches her eyes with the back of her hands and she straightens up her spine. As she waits for the gate to open, she puffs some air from her cheeks. She attempts to fix her eyebrows with the tips of her fingers, and seems to be murmuring something underneath her breath.

You’re not the best at lip reading, but your gut tells you she just whispered a “Hi”, and added your name, then — “Hey” adding your name once more.

It’s absolutely impossible for her to not be aware of how stupidly and irritatingly cute she is.

You press on the button and clear your throat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t practice your greeting in front of a mirror as well. Your robe cascades down your shoulder, you fixate on it and contemplate pulling up the fabric.

Toodles meows once more.

Yup. You should keep it down.

It takes Ellie a good five minutes to walk the full distance from the front gate to your huge white door.

Then she knocks three times on the wood, and you squeak like a mouse although you really were fully prepared.

Your tutor wears a blue flannel with a white undershirt tucked beneath. The first button is opened, revealing a tiny piece of her pale skin. Below, her legs are covered with tight skinny jeans with a tear on the knee (you’re not sure if she fell or if it’s done purposely so), and to your surprise — no Chuck’s, but Doc Martens.

Noted. She has more than one pair of shoes.

When you greet Ellie with a cheerful — yet ever so relieved and breathy “Hi”, you kiss her on the cheek like you do all of your friends, and you can smell that cheap cologne again.

Amber, citrus, musk, lavender.

There’s a hint of actual Ellie in the mix as well — smoke, herbs, sweat… did she run here?

When you hug Ellie you focus on her scent.

When you hug Ellie she focuses on absofuckinglutely nothing — Her body goes rigid and stiff and she doesn’t hug you back until two way too long seconds pass, and she finally manages to place her hand on your waist.

But she doesn’t hug or squeeze, she rests it there.

Then she coughs.

“Hey”

You take a step back and you can tell she’s a bit flushed, or flustered — but you take it as her just running. You lean your hand against one of the thick pillars. Her orbs travel frantically from your eyes down to your… legs, that are completely bare and smooth and shiny, then they run down to your feet, which are covered with heels…

You think she might say something about it, about you, how ridiculous you look, so you’re washed up with self consciousness and shyness which is something you rarely get to feel, unless you’re with that damn girl for some reason.

Then her eyes hyper-focus on… the ceiling?

You grant Ellie a half smile and you really yearn to break the silence — but she’s ahead of you. Again.

“It’s… you have a really high ceiling” she says, then immediately glues her eyes on to the floor.

“Uh, shiny floor…” she chuckles so freaking awkwardly, grazing the bottom of her left legs doc’s on the floor so it squeaks. Immediately, Ellie apologizes.

“Shit, sorry, my shoes fuckin’ muddy. I uh, ran here”

You gingerly smile and furrow your brows. You theory has been proven correct. “You ran?”

“Walked, like, not ran ran”

There’s the tiniest droplet of sweat on Ellie’s forehead, which she wipe’s swiftly and clumsily with the back of her hand when she notices your eyes scan it. Oh, she ran ran alright. You do feel a little bad, picturing Ellie’s shoes hitting below her ass as she runs through the streets of your city, with a packed and awfully heavy mauve backpack — smacking against her back with every step she takes. You almost pout, you’re still leaning against the pillar and you smack your lips together — gloss and all, out of habit.

“Could’a given you a ride, y’know” you light sweetly. Ellie’s scarred eyebrow arches up in response. “You have a license?”

You so want to shove her shoulder playfully, but you’re convinced it’ll make her go absolutely rigid again. Physical contact bricks her up — noted.

“Why is that such a surprise?” you flash her a teasing smile. She smiles back at you.

“S’just, thought you’d have a personal driver. Can’t really imagine you driving that monster of a Rover back there —“

You nod in complete amusement. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Ellie teases, followed by a throaty chuckle. “Plus, took you more of a passenger princess type of girl”

And that sentence shouldn’t make you stutter the way you do next. It shouldn’t, but it does. You back away slowly and Ellie follows your footsteps.

“T-that’s, awfully presumptuous” you chirp. Her boots stomp on the floor and your heels click clack. “Plus, I don’t drive that Rover. My car’s in the garage with the rest of ‘em” you say matter-of-factly.

Ellie scoffs impishly behind you. You walk up the stairs and she follows suit. She’s confident when she teases, you think, which is a tad different than her usual awkward self, but if only you knew she nearly slipped down one of the steps as she noticed the tiniest, delicious, most precious piece of your flesh that was just exposed behind you as a result of your incredibly short nightie.

“Psh, so presumptuous”

As you walk towards your room, Ellie walks behind you although she has more than enough space to walk besides you. You get the feeling that she's nervous, even after her teasing and all, and you don't have to wonder why too much. Your house is huge, intimidating, filled with strange sculptures and paintings by obscure artists regular people have never even heard of. You don't have just one living room, you have three, and in each and every one of them stands a different technology piece of some sort. Also, your heels cost more than her outfit, could be more worth than the entirety of her damn closet, and most importantly — you're walking with a pink robe and some heels on.

When you reach your room, Ellie awkwardly smiles and straightens her muscular back. Then, she holds on to the straps of her backpack.

"First of all" you sigh, and now it's your turn to feel coy. "Thank you for coming over so late. I know it's like, absolutely ridiculous, and you know, you don't get paid for this so...", you flash Ellie an endearing smile, the apples of your cheeks rising sweetly as a humble thank you. "And, second of all... jus'... brace yourself?"

Ellie's brows arch up, but before she has time to ask — oh.

You both step into your lit room. Toodles follows by closely, entering the room as well, whilst rubbing his furry back against Ellie's calves.

"Yup..."

Ellie's fingers instinctively clasp onto the straps of her backpack once more, her eyes widening ever so slightly, but she fights to seem as unsurprised as she can — she fails miserably, because she gasps a little.

Your room is nothing but a... cotton candy dream world. A wall that's painted in pretty dusty pink, a princess bed that's nothing but a regal centerpiece. Above the bed, a canopy of gossamer silk drapes from a custom-crafted wrought iron frame, And the final sophisticated touch, a grand crystal chandelier, suspended from the ceiling. There are also clothes everywhere, empty water bottles, used sheet masks, a stack of books — some half-read, others forgotten, teetered precariously on a random corner. Ellie sticks out like a sore thumb. She stands out like a neon sign in a library, a skateboard at a black-tie gala.

You like it.

She clears her throat, stepping further into your room. "I take it black is your favorite color?" she titters sarcastically.

You giggle.

"Mhm, also I'm clearly very organized, and I hate clothes" you murmur and point out the pile of dresses haphazardly bunched in the corner of your room.

She should feel out of place. She should probably laugh, even sneak a pic — tell all her "cool" friends about how mindblowingly ridiculous the prissy rich girls room is. Instead, she thinks about how cute you must look cuddled up in a bed this big, how adorable it'd be to see your bed-head poking through the sheets at 8am, how sweet it must be to watch you skip around your room, trying on your shitload of clothes, throwing them in the air and huffing like a medieval brat of a princess. She wants to place a fucking tiara on your head. She sees your sticker collection from the corner of her eye, your vinyls, your candles, your crystals and Toodles' sofa.

And she likes it.

You take a deep breath. You shouldn't even care if she likes it or not, you shouldn't be bothered by it at all — you rarely are, but something inside of you yearns for... something.

"It suits you" she murmurs.

And that's certainly good enough, because it does.

You gesture Ellie to sit on the rolling chair next to yours, and her eyes still roam over the space of your room. “My room looks exactly the same, by the way… same uh, size too… n’stuffed animals… Shit, I like the elephant one”, she sarcastically remarks as she sits on the chair and hunches down, manspreading as she often does. Your eyes can’t help but roam down, because her damn thighs flexed under those jorts and you heard her, but you also kind of didn’t.

Ellie clears her throat and narrows her eyes. Jheez, she thinks, you must be absolutely exhausted since your eyes don’t seem to be able to focus.

“Huh?” you say, startled. You’re still standing up on those heels. Ellie sniffles and chuckles and her voice goes all quiet.

“Said pink nauseates me, that I hate those stuffed animals and that your elephant doll’s ugly as shit”

You roll your eyes and your tongue swipes over your glossy bottom lip. You bite it and you sit down on the chair. Ellie’s eyes scan over your chest and she averts her gaze like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hate you, chem tutor” you huff, resting your head on the palm of your hand. Ellie doesn’t maintain a second of eye contact but she chuckles and it’s cocky.

“You need me, and you need an A in chemistry”

You like that side of her.

You let your eyes blink lazily at her, a cheeky little smirk forming on your lips. When you open your mouth again, just to smack it on your glossy lips, you brush your leg ‘accidentally’ against hers, and rigid she goes. “Mhm, I definitely need you, Ellie…”

The apples of Ellie’s cheek shine in bright crimson and her hand flexes. She grabs her pen and clicks on it once. You didn’t mean it like that, she so obviously knows or believes, but it matters nonetheless. You like that side of her so much more.

You cross your pretty legs and let the tip of your heel graze her chair. “So, you want a drink before we start studying?”, you’re way too damn close, she nods — but she doesn’t need a ‘drink’ she needs a damn water fountain that directly flows onto her mouth and satisfies that damn drench. Is it possible for her damn knee to feel hot? Why is her knee feeling hot?

“Anything specific?”

“Jus’ waters fine” Ellie manages to murmur, lips forming a teeny tiny, shy, crescent smile.

“I was thinking more… like, wine? I have a wine cooler n’my room… if you wanted water i’d have to like, go downstairs and… It’s so lonely in there” your voice is saccharine, delicate, and it and coaxes Ellie’s mind.

“Wine’s perfect, I love wine” says Ellie.

She hates wine.

“Mhm, red or white?” — Your question comes when you lift your butt off the chair and walk slowly towards the cooler.

“Uh, r-red. S’much… richer” Ellie falters, remembering vaguely the time Joel had mentioned white wine’s for pussies. When she tried a red one, she gagged.

“Impressive” you note.

Ellie rolls the chair with the help of her heavy Doc's, and watches as you pour the red liquid into two delicate glasses. Your leg, she notices, is clad with a shiny, delicate golden piece of jewelry. Her eyes scan upwards, towards your bare thighs — the flesh is glistening, almost appearing as if it's covered with oil. Her mind drifts elsewhere, to a world in which your nightie is nothing but nonexistent, and those thighs...

Her stomach grumbles, she firmly holds onto it. Why NOW.

"Hungry?" you place the glass on the table, slightly nudging it towards Ellie.

She's starving.

you flash her a devilish smirk, cocking your head to the side.

"Oh, uhh... nope"

Famished.

[cannibalsmayhem]

𓎟† TRANSiD C◇DES †𓎟

☂️ , 🍥 , 🔁 , 🔀 ~ TRANSiD ( GENERAL ) .

🌐 , ☁️ , 🔳 ~ TRACE .

💱 , 🧳 ~ TRANSNATi♡NALiTY .

📍 , ✈︎ ~ TRANSL♡CATiON

🌅 ~ TRETHNiC / TRANSETHNiC .

🥂 , 🏮 ~ TRANSCULTURE / TRANSCULTURAL .

🦯 , 🦿 , 🦽 ~ TRANSABLED .

💫 , 🐾 , ❤️‍🩹 , 🦚 ~ TRANSSPECiE .

🧬 , 🩻 ~ TRANSB♡DY .

📏 , 🧍 , 🧍‍♀️ ,🧍‍♂️ ~ TRANSHEiGHT .

⚖️ ~ TRANSWEiGHT .

🛐 , 🌙 ~ TRANSFAiTH / TRANSRELiGi♡US .

🩸 , 🎐 ~ TRANSAMiA / TRANSBL♡♡D .

⏰ , 🍭 ~ TRANSAGE .

🌱 , 🍭 ~ OTY ( ♡LDER TO Y♡UNGER ) .

🌾 , 🍭 ~ YTO ( Y♡UNGER TO ♡LDER ) .

⛅ , 🍭 ~ AGEFLUiD / AGEFLUX .

➕ , 🧑‍🧑‍🧒 ~ TRANSPLURAL .

🐌 , 🧑‍🧑‍🧒 ~ TRANSTRAUMAGENiC .

🐚 , 🧼 , 🧑‍🧑‍🧒 ~ TRANSEND♡GENiC .

🧠 , ⏫ ~ TRANSSEVERiTY .

♾️ , 🔄 ~ TRANSAUTiSTiC .

🦋 , 🫧 ~ TRANSADHD .

📼 , 🦋 ~ TRANSSYMPTADHD .

🎭 , 💢 ~ TRANSBPD .

🔇 ~ TRANSMUTE / TRANSMUET .

〰️ , 🔇 ~ TRANSMUTEFLUX .

🔕 , 👂 , 🦻 ~ DEAFTRiC / TRANSDEAF .

🛡️ , 🗯 , 💭 , 🧑‍🧑‍🧒 ~ TRANSDiD .

🖇️ , 🧑‍🧑‍🧒 ~ TRANS♡SDD .

🥢 , 🦯 , 🐚 ~ CANEiAN .

🔦 , 🎗 , 🌩 ~ TRANSEPiLEPSY .

📦 , 🍱 ~ TRANSiTEM .

🌑 , 🎗 , 🌙 , 💨 ~ TRANSADDiCT / DiADDiCT .

🎠 , 🌈 , 🏳️‍🌈 ~ TRANS♡RiENTATi♡N .

💥 , ☀️ , 🦸‍♂️ , 🦸‍♀️ ~ TRANSUPERP♡WER .

⚡ , 🌙 , 🌑 , 🪐 ~ TRANSZ♡DiAC .

💭 , 💡 , 🌐 ~ TRANSPHANTASiA .

💽 , 💿 ~ TRANSTHYMESiA .

☯ , 🎑 , 🌉 ~ TRANS♡PiNi♡N .

😈 , 📣 , 💢 ~ TRANSHATE / TRANSHATEFUL .

💔 , 💢 ~ TRANSHARM / TRANSHARMFUL .

🐘 , 🥚 ~ REPUBLiX .

🐎 , 🗳️ ~ TRANSDEM♡CRAT .

🔱 , ⚜️ ~ TRANSiNTR♡JECT .

🕰️⏰ , 🥣⏰ ~ TRANSiAN .

⏰️3️⃣ ~ TRiAGE .

🦠⏪⌛ ~ PANDEMAGE .

🇲🇽💯➕ ~ HYPERMEXiCAN .

☄️🌐 , ☄️☁️ ~ XEN♡RACiAL .

🖌️🧳 , 🖌️💱 ~ XENONATi♡NALiTY .

☄️🥂 , 🖌️🏮 ~ XEN♡CULTURE .

🔰🌼 , ♿️💝 , 🌸💕 ~ TRANSNEUAJU .

⚡️🦋 , ⚡️📼 ~ TRANSHYPERFiXiATi♡N .

💺🎈 ~ TRANSQUADRi / TRANSQUADRiPLEGiC .

🫀⏪🐌 ~ TRANSBRADiCARDiA / TRANSL♡WHEARTBEAT .

🎀💎🧬 ~ TRANSTRiNAN♡PiA .

💤⭐️ ~ TRANSNARC♡LEPSY .

🌡️🩸 , 📍🥊 , 🎭📌 ~ PERMAPAiN .

🦠5️⃣🐱 ~ TRANSFiV .

🔁🕖 ~ TRANSYEAR .

🗣️💬📊 ~ TRANST♡NE .

🔁🔊 , 🔁💬 ~ TRANSV♡iCE / ALTV♡iCE .

🔁🏳🔊 , 🏳💬 ~ TRANSACCENT .

🔢🔊 , 🔢💬 ~ POLYACCENT .

🔢🏳〰️🔊 , 🔢〰️💬 ~ ACCENTFLUX .

🌀 , 💬📝➕ ~ TRANSLiNGUAL .

🔁📱🔊 ~ TRANSAACUSE / TRANSACC .

🦇👤 , 🦷🦇 , 🌱👤 ~ DENTESB♡DiC .

🦎👤 , 🐊🦕 , 🌵👤 ~ SPiCiSB♡DiC .

🖐️👤 , 🐾🐓 , 🍂👤 ~ UNGUiB♡DiC .

😈👤 , 🦄🦏 , 🍁👤 ~ RAMUSB♡DiC .

🕊️👤 , 🐦🦇 , 🍃👤 ~ ALiSB♡DiC .

🐾👤 , 🐶🐱 , 🌳👤 ~ MANUSB♡DiC .

☔🚰💦 ~ TRANSRAiNWET .

🔁💗👁️ ~ TRANSL♡VERPUPiLS .

👁️🌈🧩 ~ TRANSC♡L♡REDEYES .

💛💜🤍 ~ TRANSiNTERSEX .

🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵 ~ TRANSTRANS .

💜🖤💛🤍 ~ TRANSENBY .

🕯️🍃 ~ TRANSCENT .

🕯️🌊 ~ FLUiDSCENT / SCENTiANFLUiD .

♟️🔄 ~ TRANSCLUB .

💚🩷⚰️🌎 ~ TCOAALiXURE .

✨ ~ TRANSCURE .

🥇⭐️ ~ TRANS / PERMAFiRSTPLACE .

🥈⭐️ ~ TRANS / PERMASEC♡NDPLACE .

🥉⭐️ ~ TRANS / PERMATHiRDPLACE .

🟩☀️ ~ PERMAPARTiCiPACi♡N .

💤🛏🌙 ~ TRANSDiURNAL .

💤🛏☀️ ~ TRANSN♡CTURNAL .

⬆️⚧️ ~ TRANSM♡REDYSPH♡RiA .

⬇️⚧️ ~ TRANSLESSDYSPH♡RiA .

🔆✖️ , 🪻✖️ , 💛✖️ , 💜✖️ ~ TRANSGENDERDYSPH♡RIA .

🔀🧃🍭 ~ TRANSCHiLDH♡♡D .

📖🌟 ~ TRANSFiCTi♡NAL .

♾️🎭 ~ PERMAMASK .

🦇🪦 ~ TRANSVAMPiRE .

🖤⚰️ ~ TRANSDEAD .

🧪🕒 ~ TRANSRADiUMP♡iS♡NiNG .

🦠☢️ ~ TRANSEXPERiMENT .

🦾🌈 ~ TRANSPR♡STHETiC .

♾️💢 ~ PERMABRUiSE .

🔀⭕️ ~ TRANS♡BJECTUM / TRANS♡S♡R .

👨❤️💋👨 ~ TRANSFUJ♡ .

👩❤️💋👩 ~ TRANSHiMEJ♡ .

🪻🌎 ~ TRANSPEACEFUL .

🪷🌎 ~ TRANSHARMLESS .

🌱🪷🌎 ~ TRANSGREENTHUMB .

💉💢 ~ TRANSANTiVAX .

🔃🔗 ~ TRANSCRiMiNAL .

🔪 , 🔃🗡 , 🔃🔫 ~ TRANSKiLLER / TRANSMURDERER .

💜ϟϟ , 💜🍞 ~ TRANSN#4Zi .

💙ϟϟ , 💙🍞 ~ TRANSNE♡N#4Zi .

🌈☂️ , 🌈🍥 , 🌈🔁 ~ TRANSEVERYTHiNG / TRANSPAN / TRANSPANDiA .

🛡️🖇️ ~ TRANSDiD♡SDD .

☂️❔ , 🍥❔ , 🔁❔ ~ QUESTi♡NiNG TRANSiD .

☂️🤝 , 🍥🤝 , 🔁🤝 ~ TRANSiD H♡ARDER .

O = ♡ I = i !!