#Even when she gets accused of murder
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thechildofshadows · 3 months ago
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I love how the last two books (of the inheritance games) show Jameson’s … love for Avery.
like in the first three, we had our lovely narrator who couldn’t figure out whether he’s playing a game or truly likes her.
in the brothers Hawthorne, we see his side of the story, his feelings, and his emotions concerning Avery.
(1000% genuine, we love this man)
and in the latest book, we see him from an outside perspective (an outsider who isn’t in love with him) and Lyra describes him very sweetly. He was staring at Avery like she hung the moon or smth and then they slow danced and … whoever isn’t shipping these two needs to be checked .
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cookinguptales · 1 year ago
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now that I'm done imagining a jar of peanut butter, can I just say that I love that Shane and Ryan have shifted away from traditional true crime to just shootin' the shit about weird-ass mysteries?
I always liked the "let's talk about weird mysteries" aspect of buzzfeed unsolved, but being real with you, I'm uncomfortable with true crime and the culture surrounding it. like... as someone who lost a loved one to a violent (and temporarily unsolved) crime, I've seen firsthand how internet theorizing can make a traumatizing time even harder and like. it's fucking rough, man.
I get that it makes money and all (which... is a whole other can of worms) but when you view human suffering as entertainment, it's so easy to forget about the real people who will actually be affected by what's put out there on the internet.
so I'm happy that Shane and Ryan seem to be leaning a lot more into "wow, some unhinged shit happened! how fucked up is that?" on mystery files. more of this, please!!
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mekatrio · 7 months ago
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bridge to turnabout's fanservice was so good it fooled everyone into thinking it was a well-written murder case when it really truly was Not
#thinking abt it again and godots plan to counter morgans plan was literally just#step 1.) get misty to channel dahlia so pearl cant#step 2.) monitor her actions#step 3.) see what happens. :)#didnt think to restrain her or throw her into the cavern or anything literally. nonsensical actions#had her try to dissuade pearl from channeling dahlia but when that failed it was like#'well ok misty go and channel her instead. yeah dont worry abt it surely nothing crazy will come from this'#iris just going along w constructing a fake crime scene so maya wont get incriminated#even tho godot could just. confess to his crime instead of risking maya getting convicted#and even then we couldve had a lovely scene explaining tht iris went along w godots plans bc she had#felt remorseful abt her sister poisoning him or something or the other#but no. no such thing#every one of godots nonsensical actions is explained away by He Did That Bc Of His Prideeeeee#and yet the ppl who can forgive this are the same ones who cant stand turnabout serenade for accusing a blind minor murder like pls#this type of absurdity is hardly distinct or unique#3-5's murder case is literally held up by toothpicks when u take a closer look at it#while paired along with some of the worst conclusions to various character arcs ever cuz takumi#is talented at writing story devices but not characters#and its only at the very end does this very blatantly show#but bc edgeworth is playable and franziska returns etc etc etc it doesnt matter 10/10 game amazing. Pleaseeeeee#aaing
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t-mblr-begone · 4 months ago
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Hi, star trek the next generation? What the fuck!!
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majimassqueaktoy · 2 years ago
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I've been watching kenzan again and Kiryu's affection for Haruka has me so fucked up... he's really destined to be her dad throughout all of time and space 🥺
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anarkhebringer · 2 years ago
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Day infinity of my mother reinforcing why I have a personality disorder.
#negative#TLDR she lost her shit at me for daring to rightfully assume she's accusing me of things when that's her default#she ALWAYS does it even in the most menial conversations she's always like ''don't get offended BUT'' with the dumbest shit#and then when I interrupted her as soon as she started and left she accused me of ''running when we have heated debates''#and then proceeded to scream about it to herself for like 5 minutes#if she weren't the sole controller of the money and it wouldn't ruin us financially if she died right now... I shan't say it#3 of her 4 kids have wanted her dead as we grew up and 2 of the 4 still hold to that desire#and it's because 1 of them fucked off to Kansas and cut all contact and realized she missed bumming things off my mother#my older brother and I are so sick of her but we can't leave#like when she was dying of sepsis a few years ago I was the only one to do anything and it was only when I walked by the room#my older brother just closed the door on her and was gonna let her die in there#she took herself to the ER that day and died#but they brought her back#she deserves it she truly does she's ruined our lives in new and creative ways as we've grown up and we can't do a thing about it#since we're all disabled and rely on her as our carer in a state that regularly murders disabled people in the inpatient care facilities#so my older brother and I are doing our best to not kill her ourselves by making her as miserable as possible in return for her ''love''
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dirkxcaliborn · 1 year ago
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today was weird because I was trying to read my book on my break and there was something about a suicidal woman attacking a man, embracing him as she fell under water and began to drown and realizing her miserable life was finally coming to an end... and knowing that man went on to be prosecuted for her death and struggled for years to process it and at the end was determined to hold close to his heart the secret that she didn't want to live in the first place........ and then having to go back to work bro that kinda fucked me up a little agshsksjshe
#coyo speaks#like.. he'd been introduced earlier in the book and you know there was this whole thing and he didn't really understand what had happened#but getting to the part where he recounted everything from the moment he first met her#the way he broke when someone accused him of landing in jail for raping her...#the way no one had ever made him feel seen before her and that he'd never even realized how invisible he felt before talking to her#the way that she was so deeply miserable and tried so hard to hide it from everyone#and him talking about wishing in the moment to die in her place#that it would be so easy to just breath in the water and end it#but he had struggled through life so long that he just couldn't do it#and that he could only watch as she opened her mouth and began to breathe in the water#and after how hard she tried to hide her misery#that even when sentenced to death for her supposed murder he wouldn't spill the secret that she had wanted to die#idk why it had hit me so hard in the like 5 minutes I had to read but it did#it was also a bit rough because it followed the scene of the guy assigned to kidnap a little girl for a fucked up medical experiment#bonding with the girl and experiencing everything he ever wanted out of being a father#after he and his wife got a divorce following the death of their baby#idk it's just#so much#seeing all these different people wanting so desperately to connect in the worst possible circumstances#I wonder if the girl's mother will come up again#there's something so so sad about her being alone and way too young promising her baby girl that it's them against the world#and then struggling under the weight of the world and struggling to provide for and be there for her#and at the end forced to abandon her when everything goes so completely wrong#this book also has a lot of victims of circumstance#the man who drowned a woman when they both fell in the pool (but he couldn't swim and she wanted to die)#the woman who shot a man after he brought her to a place where she'd likely be raped and killed#speaking of... god I haven't read the article on it because even the brief description has my imagination running and sickened#but I recently saw a post about these men who hated how promiscuous their coworker was#so they tricked her into going to a 'surprise party' which resulted in the like... 5 of them raping and torturing and eventually killing her#and god to think about how terrifying that must have been
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les4elliewilliams · 11 days ago
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❝𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝚰𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝚰𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑.❞
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ghostface!bestfriend!ellie ✗ fem reader
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❝𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝚰 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.❞
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⚠︎︎︎.ᐟ ⌞warnings ⊹ cw⌝ ﹕ approx 20k words. (ik im sorry im always yapping too much.) headcanons!! mention of blood/murders, drugs usage. childhoodbestfriend!𝑒, perv!𝑒, ghostface!𝑒, switch!𝑒, v light knife play (𝑒!receiving+giving), handcuffing ghostface😊, oral/fingering, strap-on sex (r!receiving), extremely jealous/obsessive!𝑒, ellie gets off to eepy reader and they get off together on the couch yummyy... i think that's it?? ps ignore that ugly ass edited pic pls😭
.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞author's note⌝ ﹕ this isn't like the movies, it's a 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 story. proofread by @sapphichotmess!!
#.ᐟ ⌞taglist⌝ ﹕ @aouiaa @kaykeryyy @whoucallingalesbian @taylormarieee @co0kiemuncher @myathegoat @joordynn @iamhellagae @hearts444olivia @ion-news @broskideedle13 @ladyofcain @cheyisagirlkisser
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
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˳·˖𖤐 During her childhood, Ellie had a stern and intimidating demeanor that unintentionally scared other kids away. They’d be too scared to approach her, let alone play or talk with her, which left her in solitude most of the time. She got used to playing by herself and spent her recess in the corner of the playground. During lunchtime, she would eat the dino nuggets that her dad had meticulously prepared for her while sitting alone at the lunch table (being picky about food, she only ever had dino nuggets and was firmly convinced that regular nuggets did not taste as good). She seemed to find solace in drawing and would spend hours sketching in her green notebook, lost in her world of imagination.
˳·˖𖤐 Maybe, just maybe, the kids’ fear toward Ellie wasn’t unmotivated. She loved to cause chaos and conflicts among the other kids. She would start small fights, encourage others to fight, push kids off swings, or even break their toys. Even more concerning was that she seemed to get a kick out of other people’s misery and would laugh at their distress and discomfort, which was why many feared and avoided being near her.
˳·˖𖤐 Joel would often find himself rushing to his daughter’s school, trying his best to convince the school officials that his sweet little girl could never do anything to hurt other kids. Despite being smart and quiet, Ellie would sometimes find herself in trouble for things she claimed she didn’t do. She always stood her ground, insisting that if she ever did start something, it was only because another child had done something to her first. And, of course, her father always believed her and would go to great lengths to defend his baby girl.
Once, Joel was called to the principal’s office. When he entered the room, he saw the principal sitting behind his desk, looking stern and serious. Joel's heart sank, he could sense something was off. “My daughter would n—” Joel tried to speak, but the principal cut him off without missing a beat. “The teacher saw her. She pushed Jason off the swing and kicked him,” the principal stated, his tone firm and authoritative. Joel's eyes immediately darted to his sweet little angel, who was crying and pouting, giving him doe eyes as she shook her head to dismiss all the accusations. “No, Dad, I didn’t, I swear. He hit me first,” she said, trying to defend herself. “Heard what she said? She didn’t do it.” Joel always fell for that little dotted face. He would still stand by his beliefs no matter what the teachers or other kids' parents said. His baby girl would never hurt anyone. He couldn’t imagine her doing anything wrong.
˳·˖𖤐 You were never really scared of her—the quiet, introverted girl. In fact, you were quite intrigued by her. She always seemed to be the odd one out, sitting in the corner of the classroom or standing far away across the playground, watching everything and everyone so intently. What really fascinated you about her was her attention to detail. She never missed a thing and could remember every single detail of everything, almost like she had a photographic memory or something. 
˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was fascinated with you. Ever since you helped Ellie pick up the pencils she had accidentally dropped, she couldn’t help but notice your gentle and soft smile, and from that moment on, she found herself unable to take her eyes off you. She’d just sit across the room, sipping on her apple juice box as she studied you curiously. To her, you were a delicate and pretty little girl, reminding her of a flower. She had always thought other kids weren’t as bright as her and weren’t good enough to be her friends, which led her to isolate herself from others. She thought of herself as better than everyone her age, and it was also why she would beat them up, finding them too stupid to put up with. But you were different. There was something about you that stood out to her, something that her childish brain couldn’t quite put a finger on. It wasn’t just your kindness, although that certainly played a big part in it. There was something more that made her feel like she wanted to be your friend, your close friend.
˳·˖𖤐 Even as a little kid, Ellie had always been a strategic and calculated person.
One day, she saw you playing in the sandbox and felt the urge to approach you, but she needed an excuse to do so. So, she concocted a plan. She told another kid that you had said something mean about him, knowing that he would confront you about it—Jason was a little of a troublemaker from what she noticed, so she was certain it would work. In fact, when the little boy confronted you, and you denied it, he quickly became angry and pushed you, causing you to fall into the sand. The sand got all over your beautiful frilly clothes, making you feel embarrassed and upset, your bottom lip wobbling. Ellie saw this as her chance to approach you and comfort you. She walked over to you and pushed the other kid, causing him to storm off. She quickly helped you up and offered you a slight smile, “You can’t let other kids treat you like that.” You nodded in agreement, grateful for her help, and threw yourself in her arms, hugging her tightly. “Thank you so much,” you uttered. She nodded and squeezed you, rubbing your back. “Maybe we can watch each other’s back from now on,” she suggested with a shy smile, the one that always fooled her dad as well. You were beyond ecstatic at her offer. You had long admired her from afar, and the idea of being friends with her was something you had dreamed of for a long time, but your shy nature had always caused you to keep to yourself. Even to you, she seemed smarter compared to other kids. “Can you be my friend?” you asked with a toothless grin on your face, batting your lashes at her. “Yes, I would love to,” followed by “Can I show you my dinosaur collection?” From that day on, you and Ellie became close friends, and her strategic and protective nature was always there to help you when you needed it.
˳·˖𖤐 You and Ellie have been inseparable, going through all the ups and downs of school and puberty together. She has been a constant source of support, always by your side through your best and worst days. You have shared countless memories and experiences over the years, and she has always been a true friend in every sense of the word. She was always there to protect you and stood up for both of you in any situation. You did everything together—you laughed, cried, and confided in each other like you were the only two people in the world. You shared all your first-time experiences, like getting drunk for the first time, going to parties, and even sneaking out of your house at night just to see her or hang out. Her father quickly became like a second dad to you, someone you could look up to and trust. You have always felt like a part of their small family, spending time together, sharing meals, and celebrating holidays with them. Your friendship has only grown stronger over the years.
˳·˖𖤐 During middle school, Ellie’s behavior remained consistent. Even in the new environment, she continued to find ways to get herself in trouble. She had a habit of talking back to teachers, getting into physical fights with other students, and arguing with pretty much everyone, almost as if she couldn’t contain herself; causing trouble was second nature to her. It was evident that she found pleasure in disrupting the peace wherever she went, which often landed her in serious trouble. Not that she cared, of course.
“Miss Williams, get your shoes off the desk. You are not at home, and you cannot do as you please,” The middle-aged teacher, who appeared to be in her late fifties, scolded her with a stern voice, her eyes narrowing with disapproval as she spoke. Her wrinkled forehead was furrowed with a frown, and her thin lips pursed tightly together. The teacher’s glasses, once perched on the bridge of her nose earlier, now hung from a chain around her neck as she continued to chastise the auburnette.
With a mischievous smirk on her face, the copper-brown-haired girl replied, “You can bet your wrinkled ass I’ll do as I please,” causing the whole class to erupt in laughter.
˳·˖𖤐 Ellie couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger when Cassie, a girl from math class, called you stupid. You were her best friend, and she couldn't bear the thought of someone insulting you like that. She wouldn’t let anyone walk all over you. So, that same day, she approached Cassie after class with a fake calm demeanor and explained that her comments were hurtful and disrespectful. She initially tried to remain ‘polite’ to make you happy, but the situation quickly escalated to a physical fight. Unfortunately, this resulted in Cassie ending up in the nurses’ office with a broken bone. But she couldn’t help it. She had to look out for you, and Cassie fucking deserved it.
˳·˖𖤐 It was always just you and Ellie hanging out together. Other kids weren’t allowed to join you. Everyone in your school thought of you two as weirdos, but you didn’t care, both preferring each other’s company over anyone else’s.
˳·˖𖤐 You spent everyday together, either at her place or yours. Homework, video games, comics, and movie marathons filled your time, but the one thing that truly brought you together was your shared obsession with horror movies. You’d watch a new one each day, feeding off the adrenaline of jump scares and twisted plots. Ellie seemed to devour every film, but her favorites were always the slasher flicks—especially the Scream series. The thrill of being scared out of your mind became your thing. Soon, though, it wasn’t just the horror movies that captivated Ellie. She developed a deep fascination for true crime documentaries, and afternoons blurred into nights as the two of you sat in her room, binging tales of real-life terror, lost in your macabre little world together. You both would sit there, transfixed, eyes glued to the horror playing out on the screen, completely enthralled by the spine-tingling and mysterious events unfolding before you. The chilling stories on the screen drew you in, and your fascination with the morbid and the inexplicable would lead you to spend countless hours online reading creepypastas. 
˳·˖𖤐 You were each other’s first kiss.
One Friday night, you went to Cassie’s house for a small party—yes, the same Cassie that Ellie beat up and broke her arm. You guessed she had invited Ellie to get on her good side, considering their last fight. The poor girl was tired of fearing Ellie, but Ellie didn’t like her one bit and never would. Your best friend was reluctant at the idea of being surrounded by too many people, but you convinced her to go with you, saying it might’ve been fun to do something different for once. They kept teasing you, insinuating that you were more than just best friends. You were always around each other and touchy in ways that made them suspect that you were girlfriends. They noticed how you frequently held hands, hugged, and even kissed each other on the cheek. So, during a truth-or-dare game, they dared you to kiss your best friend. You looked over at Ellie, feeling shy and uncertain. You were waiting for her to say something to stop you from going along with the dare, but to your surprise, she didn’t. In fact, she had a small smile on her face, which made you feel more nervous for some reason. Feeling hesitant, you finally mustered up the courage to ask her, “Can I kiss you?” Your cheeks heated up as you spoke. The freckled girl rolled her eyes, trying to make you feel like you were being dramatic, “It’s just a game.” Finally, you leaned in and gave her a soft peck on the lips. Everyone in the room giggled and clapped their hands, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something had changed between you and Ellie, yet neither of you dared to acknowledge it.
˳·˖𖤐 Ellie had always been very open about her attraction to girls. She never cared about what other classmates might have thought about her preferences. Even though they were not always accepting, they never dared to say anything negative to her face, fearing Ellie’s reaction to their comments. She openly rejected guys who showed interest in her, saying that she was not interested because she was a lesbian. Always commenting about pretty girls—and man, if that didn’t make you jealous. You’d often feel this intense jealousy inside you every time she talked to other girls or whenever other girls would approach her, even if she always rejected them, 99,9% of the time.
˳·˖𖤐 Why 99,9% and not 100%? Well, because another girl named Cat entered the picture. From the very start, it was clear that Cat was head over heels for Ellie, and how could you blame her? She’d blush every time Ellie glanced her way, always laughing obnoxiously at your best friend’s puns, even when they were terrible—and that was, like, all the time. She would also go out of her way to shower her with small gifts, all of which Ellie would accept with a sly grin that you found infuriating. She’d get her snacks and pass her cute little notes during classes, and the worst part was that your friend began to reciprocate Cat’s feelings, and the two of them grew even closer. You tried to accept their ‘friendship’ but found it increasingly difficult; watching them together became too much to bear, and you knew you had to take care of it. You never liked sharing, not even as a kid, so why start now with the most important person to you?
As the lesson dragged on, you grew more restless, your thoughts tangled in a knot of anxiety. You needed to have a little chat with Cat. Urgently. Unable to focus any longer, you raised your hand, asking the teacher if you could go to the toilet. When he gave you a nod in response, you hurried out of the classroom, your pulse quickening as you slipped through the quiet hallways. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a small Post-it note, your fingers trembling slightly as you scrawled a quick message:
“Meet me in the bathroom after third period. — Ellie :)  ”
You carefully folded the note and slid it into Cat's locker, hoping she would see it soon. The next few hours felt like an eternity. You kept checking the clock, counting down the minutes until the third period. Finally, the bell rang, and you made your way to the bathroom, hoping Cat would be there. As you entered the bathroom, you saw her standing there with a big smile. The same smile that faded in an instant as she saw you instead of the girl she liked. You greeted her with a mischievous grin and asked her if she was waiting for Ellie. “Yeah, she told me to come here after third period,” the raven-haired girl responded, looking puzzled. “Did she, or did I?” you giggled. Cat took a small step back, suddenly feeling creeped out by the way you were looking at her, almost as if you were planning to hurt her. You had never started fights in school or caused any sort of trouble, though Cat feared you. Maybe it was the endless rude comments you threw her way at any chance you got or the little things you did when Ellie wasn’t watching to make her feel threatened. “Is this some sick joke?” surprise flashed across her features before a more terrorized look replaced it. “Stop seeing her, don’t come near her, stop talking to her, don’t even look her way,” you demanded. Your tone was firm, almost possessive, as you stepped closer. She backed away with each step you took. “Wha-” Cat tried to speak, but you cut her off. “I catch you lookin’ at her again, I won’t be as nice.” you threatened. “I won’t—I’ll stop talking to her,” she stammered nervously, her voice trembling. A few sniffles escaped her before she ran off, mumbling her sorrys on her way out. “I hope you mean it.” She was already out of the bathroom, but you were sure she had heard you loud and clear. And you weren’t even gonna feel bad. She deserved it. How dare she come near the most important person in your life? What was she planning to do? Take her away from you? You sure as hell weren’t gonna let that happen.
˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was struggling to understand why Cat had suddenly started ignoring her like a deadly disease. It was almost perplexing that the brunette wouldn’t even look at her, and whenever Ellie tried to approach her to talk, Cat would leave the conversation abruptly, only briefly glancing over at her. It was particularly puzzling to the redhead as she could not recall any misunderstanding or disagreement between them that could have caused such a drastic change in Cat’s attitude towards her—for once, she was nice to someone who wasn’t you, and this was the result? She felt confused and soon enough began to harass the girl, making sure her life was a living hell at school. How dare Cat ignore her? She wasn’t even that smart or pretty. Ellie only ever liked the attention she'd get from her; she was there just to boost her ego, and now she was ignoring her?
˳·˖𖤐 As you both entered high school, you remained inseparable, sticking to the shadows for the first few years, trying to blend in and avoid unwanted attention. Neither of you joined clubs or sports teams, preferring to keep to yourselves and steer clear of socializing. But by junior year, the routine started to feel stifling, and restlessness set in. You both realized you wanted more—something bigger than just being on the sidelines. Your best friend took the leap first, joining the soccer team, eager to break out of the monotony and possibly make new friends. She thrived there, quickly falling in love with the game’s intensity and the adrenaline that came with it. She never lost that sense of superiority, though—deep down, she believed she was different, better than the people around her. She stood out, and she knew it. You, on the other hand, joined the cheerleaders team. Dancing and performing had always been a passion, and it seemed like a perfect way to get involved. But as you spent time with other girls, you couldn’t help but notice how wrapped up they were in things that felt trivial to you—obsessed with popularity, looks, and gossip. It was hard to feel like you fit in, knowing damn well you didn’t. While your best friend thrived on her sense of superiority, you were left feeling like an outsider, trapped in a group you didn’t belong in.
˳·˖𖤐 Ever since you joined the cheerleading team, you stood out from the crowd. Your undeniable beauty did not go unnoticed, and soon enough, boys began to show interest in you. Every week, a different guy would try to catch your attention, hoping to ask you out or make a move on you. But Ellie was fiercely protective of you, claiming that none of these guys were good enough for you, whether it was a potential friend or partner. She would always find a way to scare them away, making it clear that you weren’t interested, always there reminding you that you were way too amazing for all of them and that no one could ever understand you like she did, even if they tried. She did not want anyone she deemed unworthy of your time to come close to you, and you liked it that way. To you, that was your definition of love.
“—so he just fell in front of the whole class, he couldn’t even-” You were interrupted by the sound of your name being called from across the room. Your best friend was out sick, missing all the juicy details, but before you could finish the story and turn to see who it was, the auburn-haired girl beside you spun around first. Her brows knit together almost instantly, and you could see the flicker of jealousy in her eyes. Her expression darkened as she processed the moment, clearly thrown off by the sudden attention directed your way. A kid you knew from theater class was walking toward you with a nervous smile, carefully holding a flower, making sure not to prick himself on the sharp thorns of the beautiful red rose. “Hey, I just wanted to ask you if-” He didn’t even need to finish his sentence—she was already prepared to go off on him as if he’d just insulted her entire family. In reality, he hadn’t even noticed a fuming Ellie standing right beside you. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, eyes locked on him with an intensity that made you sure if looks could kill, he’d already be dead. You opened your mouth to say something, but Ellie quickly raised her hand in front of you, silencing you instantly. She was going to handle this, just like always. “What makes you think she would ever go out with a loser like you?” Ellie hurled venomous words his way, leaving the poor guy stuttering and stumbling over his response. His face flushed bright red as if all the blood had rushed to his cheeks. He stood there, frozen in shock, his mouth hanging open like a fish gasping for air. His eyes darted nervously between you and the girl at your side, clearly unsure what to do next. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to express himself, his expression desperate as if he was silently begging for a reaction from you, anything. But before he could even get a syllable out, Ellie cut him off again, shutting him down before he could speak. “Heard what I said? She is not interested,” she repeated, but this time, her voice was tinged with impatience. “I’m sorry, I just—take this.” He handed you the flower, looking utterly defeated. As soon as it was in your hands, he turned around and walked away hastily, like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs. She watched the guy walk away, her leaf-hued eyes fixed on him, unwilling to let go of the sight. Her face was slightly scrunched up in annoyance, her mind clearly racing with thoughts as she seemed lost in her world. After a while, she finally tore her gaze away from him and glanced at you briefly as if snapping back to reality. She let out a small ‘tssssk’ under her breath, trying to collect herself and shake off the jealousy lingering in the pit of her stomach. “Jesus, El. You’re evil,” You let out a small giggle and brought your hand to your mouth to cover it up. “Might have to kill half the school just for you,” She suddenly joked with a grin. She snatched the rose out of your hand and threw it on the floor forcefully. Red petals scattered on the ground as you both continued walking. Ellie made sure to stomp on the flower. She always had a very dark humor, which sometimes left you wondering if she meant any of what she said. She always spoke in such a serious tone, but maybe it was just her sarcasm being that way. Her words were often laced with a hidden meaning, and she had a way of making you question your interpretations, but you laughed at her joke anyway.
˳·˖𖤐 So, were you surprised when a few students started going missing? 
˳·˖𖤐 The leader of the cheerleaders that always gave you a hard time? Gone.
˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was your biggest fan, always showing up to watch your cheerleading practices.  Manspreading on the benches, her gaze never left you, not daring to miss a single move. The sight of you, all sweaty with wisps of hair escaping your ponytail, only made you look cuter in her eyes. She loved seeing you in that little cheerleader uniform. Whenever you smiled and glanced at her, her heart would thunder in her chest. It was as if her whole world revolved around those fleeting glances and spontaneous smiles you’d throw her way. You were awfully adorable.
What Ellie found far less adorable was how the head cheerleader constantly picked on you, always putting you down. What frustrated her even more was that you just let it happen. In her mind, Amanda wasn’t better than you—no one could even come close to you. To Ellie, you were perfect, and she wished you could see it too. When she saw you walking toward her, she quickly set aside the leather-bound journal she had been scribbling in, placing it on the empty spot next to her as she greeted you with a warm smile.
“You’re doing great, beautiful,” She turned to grab her backpack, which had been thrown carelessly on the empty benches behind her. Her tattooed arm reached inside the already unzipped, worn-out bag. “Yeah, you say that, like, every single time.” You sat on the bench next to her, sweat beading on your forehead as you let out a slight huff, feeling winded after your practice. “‘s true though.” She pulled out a small towel and handed it to you with a gentle smile. She was always considerate, constantly looking out for you and ensuring you were taken care of. She expressed her love for you through these little gestures, like bringing things she thought you might need in her green backpack. Her obsession with you was apparent in how she hovered over you, but you couldn't deny that it was comforting to have someone care for you so deeply. That was love—real love—and you had never experienced that from anyone else.
“Goood, you’re so perfect,” you accepted the towel from her outstretched hand and began to pat your forehead, feeling some relief from the heat. But a little towel wasn’t the only thing she brought for you—she also handed you a refreshing bottle of water to quench your thirst and a cherry-flavored lollipop as a little treat. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of that beloved childhood candy in your hand. A soft smile spread across her lips when your words reached her ears, and she looked away, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. Her shoulders lifted ever so slightly in a subtle shrug, “Oh, I know” her elbows propped up on her knees as she leaned forward. She was deep in thought, and her hands were intertwined. You took a few sips of your water and unwrapped a lollipop, both of you fell silent, completely focused on watching Amanda, who was the target of Ellie's intense gaze, she was studying her. “She’s a bitch” the freckled girl next to you muttered under her breath. You hummed in agreement, savoring the sugary goodness. “Why do you even let her speak to you that way?” she shook her head in disapproval, you could feel her gaze on you even if you weren't looking at her. “What do you want me to do? She’s the leader, El. She’ll throw me out of the team if I confront her.” You reached up to your mouth and pulled the lollipop out with a loud smack noise, feeling a sense of defeat wash over you. Ellie expressed her disagreement with a small scoff that barely registered on her plump lips, almost imperceptible. She picked up her journal once again and resumed whatever she was doing, and the silence between the two of you fell once again, punctuated only by the sound of the pencil scratching across the page. When you looked down at her journal, you couldn’t help but notice a drawing she was making of Amanda. The drawing portrayed Amanda in a rather disturbing manner, physically harmed with a knife in her chest. The details of the drawing were quite graphic, and you could tell she had put a lot of effort and passion into it. “Oh, well...that's detailed,” you commented, still sucking on your lollipop, savoring the sweet taste in your mouth. You noticed a small curl of her lips as if she felt proud of her drawing skills. “But that’d be too messy,” you added, her head shot up to look at you. “Yeah? How would you do it then?” she asked, almost challenging you to come up with a better idea for the hypothetical scenario. “The bitch’s allergic to almonds,” Your eyes were fixed on Amanda, who was laughing with her friend. Ellie raised her brows at you, an amused smile appearing on her lips. “That’s it? A good ol’ accidental allergy reaction? Where’s the fun in that?” you shrugged at her words. “No blood, no traces, it’d be harder to get caught,” you explained, proving your point. It was logical and more calculative than her hypothesis. “True but stabbing her to death seems funnier, I dunno.” She inhaled deeply, leaning back into her bench, her back pressed on the benches behind her. “Hearing them beg for mercy, scream in pain, and the look in their eyes…” She went on, entirely absorbed in her twisted narration. As she spoke, the details grew darker and more grotesque with each word. You watched her, bewildered, struggling to tell if this was still just a “what if” game. When Ellie finally realized you hadn’t responded, she looked over at you—the familiar warmth in her eyes had drained away, leaving something sharper, emptier, a chill that made you feel as though you were staring into someone else entirely.
“And where would you hide the body?” you asked.
She smiled sadistically, almost as if she already had an answer ready for that question. “I know the perfect place for that kind of thing.” she put down her journal, her emeralds back on you as she told you about the place she had in mind. “No one would ever look there,” You agreed, giving her a nod, the cherry taste of the candy lingering as you let the sweetness melt off your tongue, an amused grin playing at the corners of your mouth. The plan was actually well-thought-out—impressively so.
“I told you,” she said softly, her gaze darted between your lips and the lollipop. “Oh? Want some?” you teased, holding the lollipop just a breath away from her. Slowly, you edged the glistening, saliva-coated candy toward her, and she parted her lips, wrapping them around it, savoring the artificial cherry taste with a quiet hum of satisfaction. Her fingers replaced yours on the stick, her fingertips brushing lightly over yours, lingering just a little too long. She held your gaze, her eyes softened, almost entranced, though the depth of that look was something you couldn’t quite place. In reality, she was gazing at you enamored, her pupils wide open, but you were completely oblivious to her feelings and failed to pick up on her infatuation. Shortly after that day, Amanda was gone. Disappeared into thin air, nowhere to be found. You knew it wasn’t adding up, especially when you asked Ellie about it. She’d be so nonchalant, like she had nothing to do with her it. But you knew she was lying. Did you care about that stupid cunt being gone? Absolutely not. You soon became the leader of the cheerleaders, and everyone looked up to you.
˳·˖𖤐 The girl who was grinding on you at Daniel’s party? Found dead the morning after.
˳·˖𖤐 The first few months of college had set in, and you were already drowning in a sea of assignments and deadlines, feeling overwhelmed and stressed out. To stay close to you, Ellie took the bold step of enrolling in the same college as you. She even went as far as to choose the same major─Psychology─just to be in the same classes as you, ensuring that you both had the same schedule, did the same assignments, and even hung out with the same people. 
˳·˖𖤐 It was ironic, really, how someone as anti-social and apathetic as her would pursue a field that involved studying human behavior and emotions. But she did it anyway because the mere thought of being away from you for even a second was unbearable to her. She didn’t want anyone else to get closer to you or share the dorm with you, so she followed you and moved in with you because no one could take care of you better than her. You both decided to get an apartment together to share the bills and responsibilities of living independently. Your parents were more than willing to support you financially, making sure that you had everything you needed for college and the apartment. You were attached by the hip, and wherever you went, she was there with you, and whenever she wasn't, you became nervous and anxious, wondering what she was doing and if everything was okay. It was as if you had become too dependent on her, and the thought of being alone scared you. But the dependency was mutual; she needed you just as much as you needed her.
˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was not a fan of parties and preferred staying home, indulging in horror movies while getting high with you. However, when you told her about Daniel’s Halloween party, she knew she had to accompany you to ensure your safety and protect you from any potential creeps. You had been eagerly waiting for Halloween, your favorite holiday, and Ellie didn't want you to miss the opportunity to dress up and have a good time. Despite her initial reluctance, she was somewhat excited, not for the party itself but because she finally had a reason to wear the ghostface costume that had been sitting in her closet, untouched and unused. 
Ellie was already ready, her costume simple but somehow annoyingly perfect—but that was the price that came with being effortlessly beautiful—and her Ghostface mask thrown lazily on her shoulder. She stood at the bathroom entrance, arms crossed, eyes unwavering as they followed you. You slipped into the tight black dress, pulling it into place with a little struggle as it hugged every curve. You, on the other side, loved taking care of every little detail of your makeup and costume, ensuring your appearance was always on point. “I hate these things,” she muttered under her breath, brow furrowed, though her gaze was anything but annoyed as it lingered on your body. With her hip pressed against the doorframe, she watched as you adjusted the neckline, her head tilted to the side, eyes scrutinizing each inch of skin exposed. “Why’d you have to pick something so revealing?” she asked, voice low, almost a grumble. You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s Halloween, Ellie,” you huffed out, “I can wear whatever I want. Don't be such a buzz kill.” “I meant for Halloween parties. Last year, you were that damn sexy nurse. This year, it’s a tight dress. What’s next? A slutty bunny?” the freckled girl quipped, her lips curling up into a wry smile as she raised an eyebrow at you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She let out a light chuckle, the sound echoing softly in the small bathroom. “And you’re here complaining,” you retorted with a mischievous grin as you reached for your high heels and effortlessly slid your feet into them. You took a few confident steps towards her, giving her a complete view of your stylish outfit. Her eyes roamed up and down your body. Your dress hugged every curve, revealing just enough skin to accentuate her drool. She licked her lips, imagining what she could do with you in that skimpy outfit, but she had to keep her hands to herself, unfortunately.  “You look fucking amazing.” 
You gave her a soft smile, turning toward the mirror and reaching for your makeup bag on the countertop. “Just need to fix my makeup, and we’re all set,” you informed her, pulling out your favorite berry pink gloss and a tube of mascara, both essentials for tonight. Ellie let out a low chuckle from the doorway, fingers tapping lazily on the frame. “You’re gonna make me want to commit murder tonight,” she joked, eyes flicking over you as you leaned in closer to the mirror. Without looking away from your reflection, you rolled your eyes, your long lashes nearly brushing against your brows. “Oh, shut up. You’ll survive,” you replied, carefully gliding the gloss over your lips. She sighed, tipping her head back against the doorframe. “Honestly, I don’t know why we’re even going. It’s gonna be full of drunk assholes, all crowding around like moths.” “C’mon, El, it’s gonna be fun,” you insisted, catching her eye in the mirror. She rolled her eyes, exhaling dramatically. “Oh, yeah, can’t wait to watch people hitting on you,” she drawled, her voice heavy with sarcasm. You snorted, giving her a smirk as you grabbed your mascara. “Well, thank God I’ll have you by my side, scaring them all away.” “Damn right,” she shot back, and you both chuckled. Finishing up, you turned on your heels to face her, your eyes locking with hers. The two of you were only inches apart now, close enough to share each unspoken word in the air between you. “So, what do you think? How do I look?” you questioned, seeking her approval, though you knew the answer already. Ellie’s gaze drifted over you, her lips twitching into a scoff. “You already know you look hot,” she murmured, unable to hide a small smirk. She seemed momentarily lost as she looked at you, her green eyes flitting from your lips to your eyes, drawn in despite herself. You felt a pulse of satisfaction at her reaction, the way her attention lingered on you. “Ellie…” you murmured, leaning a bit closer, your voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. She licked her lips almost instinctively, her gaze dropping to your glossy ones, and the air between you grew thick, the energy snapping with tension. “...Yeah?” she breathed, her voice barely audible. Her breath hitched as you inched closer before coming to a halt. You smirked, tipping your head to the side. “Can I be your helpless victim?” you teased, catching her off guard with the unexpected line. Ellie’s face contorted into one of confused disbelief, and before you could hold it back, laughter escaped you at her expression. In response, she gave your shoulder a playful shove, rolling her eyes as she fought a smile. “Fuck you,” she groaned, a hint of laughter in her voice, and she ducked out of the bathroom, completely flustered, leaving you grinning after her.
When you arrived at the party, your best friend was glued to your side. She didn’t want you to be alone for even a moment, telling you that she’d stay sober to keep an eye on you in case you decided to drink. However, despite her best efforts, she lost track of you for just a few minutes. When she finally found you, she swore she felt her whole organs sink. You were dancing with a girl. Everything seemed to slow down, and jealousy and pure rage quickly built up inside her as she registered that girl’s hands guiding your hips as she ground on your ass and her lips devoured your neck. When your gaze met hers, you couldn’t help but notice the striking green color of her eyes had turned into an intense, almost ominous shade. Her jaw was tightly clenched, and you could feel a sense of discomfort creeping up on you. It was like you had crossed an invisible line and were now doing something you shouldn’t do. Almost instinctively, you pushed the girl off of you, and before you could give the drunken girl an explanation, Ellie was already walking toward you.
“We’re going back home,” She spoke with a harsh, demanding tone. She grabbed your wrist tightly and forcefully pulled you away from the girl you were dancing with. You didn't even have a chance to say goodbye or explain the situation as she dragged you away.
“Why are you acting like this? Can’t I make friends?” Your words were slightly slurred, the tipsiness settling in as you tried to pull your wrist from her grip, but Ellie’s hold was firm. You didn’t want to leave the party yet; the night had just started and had been so much fun, and her urgency to get you out only made disappointment grow. The music and chatter gradually faded as she dragged you both toward the exit.
“Didn’t look like a friend to me,” she muttered, voice sharp with an edge that cut through your drunk haze. “Looked more like she wanted to fuck you right there in front of everyone—in front of me.” She cast a glance back at the party, the girl long gone already. “Besides,” she added, “—you have me. I don’t see why you need her.” There was an ache in her tone as if she felt betrayed by your actions, a hidden desperation she was trying to keep under wraps. Couldn’t you see? She was right there, ready to be everything you needed, the one person who knew you better than anyone else. You narrowed your eyes, pushing her, testing her. “So what if she did want to fuck me? What are you, my girlfriend?” The words came out in a perfectly thought-out taunt to poke the emotions she preferred to keep hidden under the surface. You couldn’t deny that you’d thought about it too—what it would be like to actually be with her. Her green eyes darkened, shifting from their usual warmth to something intense and possessive, jealousy sparking in the depths. It was rare for you both to argue, but this time it felt like there was something deeper brewing beneath the surface, something that had been sitting there gathering dust, waiting for the right moment to bubble out like scorching lava. There was a palpable tension in the air, more-than-friendly feelings in your eyes. Even a fool would’ve been able to see the unspoken feelings and desires that neither of you could express aloud. Perhaps it was the fear of rejection or the uncertainty of how the other person felt kept you both from taking that step. “I just don’t want you getting hurt or taken advantage of.” She lied, her words sharp, unyielding, and tone laced with frustration and anger. That wasn’t a complete lie, but it was still not the whole truth. She took a slow, deep breath to calm herself down. Gradually, her tense body relaxed, and her previously sharp tone softened. “You’re all I have.” As she spoke again, her eyes, which had been stern, took on a gentler expression, and you could sense vulnerability in her voice, suddenly yearning for ‘reassurance’. “I’m sorry for being rough. It’s just… seeing anyone else with you just… fuck, I don’t know why it pisses me off so much.”  Ellie wanted you to believe she was reacting out of fear because she didn’t want to lose you. But her motives were more complex than that. While it was true that she was afraid of losing you, her actions were purely driven by a sense of selfishness. She strongly believed that you were meant to be together and that it was only a matter of time until you realized she was the one for you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “No one could ever replace you, and I hope you know that.” With a gentle tug of her costume, you pulled her close. Your arms wrapped tightly around her, and you could feel the weight of her body press against yours as she leaned into you. As you held her, you could feel the tension slowly start to melt away, replaced by a familiar sense of safety that usually came with being in her arms. “No, you’re right. I’m not your girlfriend, you can do whatever you want—fuck whoever you want.” Her voice quivered with hesitation, and her heart felt like it was weighed down by a heavy burden. She almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anything, the words tasting sour on her tongue. She knew it wasn’t normal to be so possessive of your best friend, no one acted this way toward their friends. So what was she supposed to do? Lock you up in a glass cage and never let you go? Although the idea was tempting she knew she had to set you free─free enough to find someone at least, even if it felt extremely wrong. What were the chances it would last?
˳·˖𖤐 Despite her promise to let you go, to let you be with whoever you wanted, the girl you’d danced with that night was found dead the following day, her body left in a state so brutal it was as if every ounce of someone’s anger had been carved into her. The pieces didn’t quite fit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to confront it—not yet. Maybe it was all just a coincidence, a horrible coincidence.
˳·˖𖤐 And yet, every time the news flashed across the screen or a passing conversation brought it up, her casual comments made your blood run cold.
“Oh, what a shame,” she’d murmur, not a hint of genuine sympathy in her tone.  “Guess this is what happens when you hoe around,” she’d remark, her voice steady, an almost imperceptible smirk ghosting her lips. “Hm… sucks. ‘s not even her best picture,” she’d add, a detached sort of amusement glinting in her eyes.
˳·˖𖤐 When you tried to confront her and ask questions that had been gnawing at your mind, her responses were so calm—too calm, too controlled. Her voice was smooth as she answered, almost as if rehearsed as she tried to make you feel ridiculous for even asking.
“I was with you last night. What are you implying?” she’d say, her tone just soft enough to make you question yourself. “You sound crazy right now,” she’d whisper, eyebrows raised in concern. “Maybe all these murders going on are messing with your head.”
With every word, she seemed to pull you deeper into self-doubt, her gaze softening, her voice laced with an almost painful sweetness. “Are you listening to yourself right now? I love you, but… you’re scaring me. You’re being paranoid.”
˳·˖𖤐 Her words lingered, a shadow in your mind until you couldn’t tell if it was your sanity or hers that was starting to slip.
˳·˖𖤐 The third person to disappear into thin air was your boyfriend.
˳·˖𖤐 Shortly after that heated argument with your best friend, you got into your first relationship. She gave you a little more freedom to talk to people, to socialize, but her jealousy flared whenever she saw you with him—or anyone else, for that matter.
God, why him? she’d ask herself, the question gnawing at her each time she saw the two of you together. He wasn’t exceptionally bright, his style was awful, and, to her, he wasn’t even remotely attractive. Whenever he was around, she’d mock him or throw out casual, biting jokes. She always seemed to be the only one laughing. Strangely enough, her snide remarks never fazed him—he never seemed intimidated by her like other guys who quickly fell away, discouraged or unnerved after a few seconds of her scrutiny. But not him. He stuck around, seemingly immune to her attempts to chase him off. So she took care of him. You were left with nothing but a single message, his name lighting up your screen in a sudden, unexpected end. He said he had to break things off because he was moving out of town, needing a “clean break,” a “fresh start.” The words felt hollow, calculated, and as you read through the message, your emotions twisted—hurt, anger, betrayal, all swirling within you. It was your first relationship, and he had chosen to end it over a text message without any explanation or warning. You felt like you meant nothing to him, and the fact that he disappeared from your life without as much as a goodbye added insult to injury. You were upset, not because you were particularly in love with him, but because you hated the feeling of being rejected. You had always been in control, the one rejecting people, so it was a blow to your ego to be on the receiving end of a breakup. 
˳·˖𖤐 Ellie, of course, had been there for you, providing support and care during this difficult time. She had to be here, because what kind of friend would she be if she wasn't there for you for something she had caused?
She squeezed you tighter, those strong, toned arms wrapping around you with an unbreakable and relentless grip. Her breath was hot on your neck as she murmured against your ear, lips grazing your skin with a smug smirk. “I told you this would happen,” she’d mutter, words slipping out with that intoxicating blend of annoyance and affection. She’d let her slender, cold fingers trace your spine in a way that left a shiver behind, and her hand would possessively rest on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer. “No one—no one will ever love you like I do. No one knows you like this. He could never do what I can.” “You should’ve known better, angel.” There was a dark satisfaction in her voice, almost sounding like she was taunting you, leaning in just close enough for you to feel the heat of every word against your flesh. “Told you he wasn’t the one for you, baby girl.” 
˳·˖𖤐 Not only did Ellie ensure that your boyfriend would never come anywhere near you, but now she seemed to be spending more time than ever clinging close to you, cuddling with you, and sharing the bed with you—all under the guise of offering you comfort. 
˳·˖𖤐 Your friendship had always been intense and boundaryless, it had never been anything but healthy. And it had always been increasingly clear to anyone looking in from the outside that your relationship was more than platonic. Ellie had always been obsessed with you, and her love for you had bordered on devotion. But while others could see this, you remained oblivious to her true feelings, always wondering if she liked you back.
˳·˖𖤐 And that’s when things started to change. Maybe it was the fact that you now lived together and got to spend every second with each other, or maybe it was the fact that your stupid boyfriend was out of the picture─you weren’t sure, but you didn’t mind, and neither did she. Slowly, it was back to just you and her again. Your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, and there were no other distractions. It was just the two of you like it always used to be.
You were leaning back on the couch, a joint held between your lips, your eyes heavy and red as you focused on the big TV in front of you. It was Friday night, a time when everyone else would usually go out, but for you, it only meant one thing: movie night with Ellie. The living room was dark, except for the light cast from the TV, making your faces glow in the darkness. You let out a throaty chuckle, taking another hit before sinking deeper into the couch and passing the joint back to her. You were rambling about random stuff as the movie went on, just filling in the background noise at first. Neither of you was really focused on the movie, too high to pay attention to what was happening on the screen. Your mind was wandering to other places, and it was easy to lose track of the scenes as they unfolded.  But then, a steamy scene suddenly caught both of your attention. You could feel the heat rising from the joint and maybe something else; the smoke filling your lungs and a fuzzy feeling spread throughout your body, filling you with a sense of relaxation and mellow contentment. But there was still a tiny fluttering sensation in your stomach, even though you knew it shouldn't be there. It was a strange feeling, like a soft and unexpected rush of excitement, and it made you feel both giddy and nervous all at once. As you watched the steamy scene playing out in front of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of Ellie licking her chapped and dry lips, her green, dilated eyes fixed like a laser on the screen. Her breathing was slightly faster, and you could feel her body tense up as she watched the scene. She didn’t take her eyes off the screen for a second, as if her life depended on watching it. “Y’know, you were my gay awakening,” she spoke suddenly, her husky voice breaking the silence and snapping you to attention. She stared at you, her eyes lingering on every part of your body before settling back on your face. It was a bold confession, coming out of nowhere, and suddenly, you felt your heart beating faster. A dry chuckle slipped out of you, catching in your throat. Even though you were high and a little out of control, her admission had you feeling speechless. “Is that so?” You ran your tongue across your bottom lip, trying to wet it as your throat suddenly felt parched and your pulse thrummed in your ears, hard and loud. “Hmmm-mmmh,” she hummed lazily in response, sounding almost like a low purr in your ear. Her hand rested on your bare thigh, squeezing gently, her touch delicate but firm. Heat pooled in your stomach almost instantly. “Always thinking of you when I touch myself.” “Show me.” You challenged her with a sultry tone.   Ellie scoffed, her scarred auburn brows lifting in disbelief. Had she heard you right? She swore she was hallucinating. “What?” “You heard me. Touch yourself,” you commanded, your voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. The corners of your lips lifted into a smirk, the confidence in your gaze obvious.
“And you’re just gonna sit there and stare like a creep?” She shook her head slowly, an amused smile on her face as if she wasn’t sure whether to take you seriously. But the soft chuckle and the way her eyes stayed locked on yours hinted that she was not entirely opposed to the idea. “Maybe, maybe not.” You shifted on the couch, turning fully to face her, now closer than ever. Practically in her space, watching her, you could almost feel her heart about to explode. Those little pajama shorts you had on had her captivated. Her eyes kept slipping down, caught on how tightly they hugged your curves, tracing every inch of your legs and hips. She tried to keep her gaze on your face, but it was impossible to stop glancing lower.  “If you do it, I’ll do it too,” you added, your voice dripping with temptation as her silence stretched out. And with that, something in her snapped, a fuse blowing in her mind until the only thing left was pure, raw need. No hesitation, no questions—just her fingers reaching into her waistband, spurred on by that hungry look in your eyes. You both sat there, legs spread, your hands slipping inside your panties, each of you putting on a show for the other.   Ellie’s breath hitched, and her fingers moved with fervor, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by how her parted lips let out shallow breaths, quiet gasps escaping as her hand worked. She moved with purpose, fingers gliding through her wetness, quickening her pace to get you to keep up.  “Do what I do,” she groaned, her voice low and rough. You obliged, your fingers following her frantic rhythm.  “Fuck, Ellie,” you moaned, biting back the whimper that her every move pulled out of you. 
She didn’t miss a thing, loving how you trembled and squirmed under her gaze, your body aching, practically begging. Her wildest fantasies were unfolding right in front of her, and she was greedy, wanting every sound, every gasp, every moan.   “You like that, yeah?” she rasped, her voice so rough it made your walls clench. The empty ache inside you was unbearable, your fingers slippery and soaked as you followed her every twist and stroke. You nodded, desperate, moans spilling out without restraint, each one making her move even faster. The sight of her, her touch, her ragged breaths was dizzying. She wanted to own every second, to make you crave her as much as she craved you. Your needy voice rang out, soft and breathy, “Mmmhh… need more, El.” You sounded so desperate, so whiny, it made her heart race. You were just so fucking pretty, and she couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to have her fingers inside you, feeling every desperate pulse, every needy clench around her as you milked her fingers deliciously. Before she could even process the thought, you slid your other hand down, sinking two fingers past your folds with a soft sigh, filling yourself as deep as you could.  The sight made her breath hitch, a low moan slipping out as she watched, knowing that this image would be carved into her brain forever. She could already feel herself getting off to the thought of this moment, over and over again. Your fingers moved in sync, one hand teasing and torturing your clit while the other pumped inside, stroking that perfect spot that made your thighs tense and shiver. Ellie watched, her brows knitted, barely able to tear her eyes away from your sadly still-covered cunt. “God,” she gasped, her chest heaving as she took in every pretty little expression, every sound slipping from your lips as you finger-fucked yourself. She was beyond turned on, completely mesmerized by how good you looked, and couldn’t hold back any longer. With her hand still buried in her boy shorts, she flicked her clit faster, fingers rubbing in desperate, frantic messy circles as she got swept up in the sight of you. “So fuckin’ needy,” she taunted, her voice low and hoarse.
“Gonna...g’na cum,” you whined, eyes squeezed shut, breaths coming out in short, shaky bursts. In a move that sent a shiver down your spine, Ellie reached out and gently tugged your hand away from your shorts, intertwining her fingers with yours.  “Me too—wanna cum with you, need you close,” she gasped, her words breaking into soft moans as her own high built. She squeezed your hand tight, needing the contact as her hips jerked up, chasing her release. Your other hand kept moving, your fingers hitting that perfect, spongy spot again and again until— “I’m coming!” you cried out, your moans reaching a pitch that filled the room, echoing through the walls, your fingers slamming into yourself as you came, waves of pleasure crashing over you. 
“Ooooh fuck!” Ellie groaned, her hips bucking as she rubbed herself faster, her hand squeezing yours hard as she climaxed, her voice hoarse and breathless. 
You sat there, chests heaving, bodies still trembling in the aftermath, catching your breaths in silence as the euphoria slowly faded. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, gradually, reality seeped back in as you both glanced at each other, feeling completely blissful. Her lips pulled into a soft smile, cheeks flushed as her thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of your hand.
Feeling a rush of warmth, you leaned back, wiping your fingers on the soft fabric of your pajama shorts, a quiet contentment settling over you. Ellie tugged gently at your tank top, silently inviting you to come closer. You obliged, sinking into her embrace as she wrapped her arms around you. She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering in her dazed, dreamy voice about how perfect the moment had been, dropping little words of affection she’d usually never say out loud. With the weed still buzzing in her system, it all slipped out way too easily.
You drifted off in her arms, her warmth and steady breaths lulling you to sleep as the TV murmured softly in the background.
˳·˖𖤐 It was as though her infatuation with you intensified after that night, if that was even possible. She couldn’t get you out of her mind, and her focus on every little detail of your appearance became more and more pronounced. You were all she could draw, your lips, your nose, your brows, your eyes. She was convinced that she was the only one who truly appreciated your beauty. She believed that everyone else was too superficial to appreciate you for who you really were. To her, no one else deserved you─not like she did. You were the center of her world, and she couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were like a drug to her, and she craved you more than anything else, her mind was consumed with thoughts of you.
˳·˖𖤐 There was this sick habit of hers, one that she’d never admit out loud but couldn’t shake. Every night, she watched you as you slept, eyes glued to how your oversized shirt barely hung onto your curves. It was like she was waiting—no, hoping—for that shirt to ride up just a little bit more, enough to give her a full view of those soft legs and the tiny slip of fabric that barely covered you. 
You always seemed so relaxed, so at ease around her, never thinking twice about what you wore, especially when you two shared a bed. You’d just crawl under the covers, no pants, no bra, just that soft, baggy shirt. And every time, it drove her wild. Part of her wondered if you knew exactly what you were doing, the way you’d stretch and twist, giving her those little glimpses that made her pulse race—and to answer her silent dilemma, yes, you were doing it on purpose.  She couldn’t look away. Her hand would slip under her waistband, touching herself as her eyes roamed over you, desperate for more than just a view. She couldn’t resist ever since she admitted she’d been touching herself to the thought of you for as long as she could remember.  Even you could feel the tension every time her eyes lingered on your body or lips. Every time she shifted closer, her fingers grazing your thigh just a little too long just to pull away again, chickening out. All you wanted was for her to close that painful gap, to stop playing around and just touch you the way you knew she wanted to. Every night was a silent invitation, a wordless game where every move you made was another way to get her attention, pushing her until she couldn’t stand it any longer. Ellie licked her lips, her eyes glued to the sight beside her. Watching you sleep like this always turned her on─it was the combination of ‘innocence’, vulnerability, and sheer beauty that did it. The slight roll of your shirt had exposed just enough skin to make her heart race, her mind filled with naughty thoughts. You were never aware of how much she wanted to feel you and touch you inappropriately, but she knew it might ruin your friendship, and she couldn’t risk it.  Feeling her arousal increasing with every passing second, she slipped her hand under the covers. She knew it was wrong; she shouldn't be doing this while you were asleep next to her, sleeping peacefully as she came all over her fingers at the sight of your half-exposed body─but that didn’t stop her from doing it anyway. The temptation was too strong, and it was impossible to resist you. “Fuck... You’re killing me…” she thought to herself, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. It was late at night, and she couldn't resist anymore.
Without hesitation, she slid her hand into her shorts and started playing with herself. Her green, concentrated eyes never left your body, studying every curve and dip hungrily. Calloused fingers brushed against her sensitive nub gently, her hips slightly jerking away from her hand. She was so sensitive; you had her pussy throbbing like crazy, and the worst part was that you didn’t even do shit. It was her fault, her perverted and filthy mind's fault. But good lord, if she would sell all her organs to touch you. “The fuck are you doin’ to me…” she murmured under her breath as she played with her wetness, feeling how messy you made her. When her fingers returned to her clit, circling it gently, her breath hitched. She knew she had to be quiet; you were occasionally a light sleeper, and she couldn't risk getting caught. She parted her legs further apart as she kept teasing her clit slowly. “God…” She whispered, her breath coming out in short, shallow gasps, causing her voice to be soft and sultry as she rubbed herself with increasing tempo. There was no hesitation or inhibition, just raw, unadulterated desire dripping from every fiber of her being. So fucking nasty. She wondered what your reaction would be if you woke up and caught her in the act, but, yet again, there was something exhilarating about the risk, about the idea of you seeing her in the middle of her filthy act. Her face flushed as she imagined this, her mind filled with naughty scenarios as she rubbed herself harder and faster.  “Mmph... so beautiful…” Her eyes never left your body, even while touching herself. For some reason, it felt so good knowing you were just inches away, unaware of what she was doing. She couldn't help but fantasize about you pleasing her—she needed your fingers, you, and she also fantasized about reciprocating the favor.  “Can't wait to taste you... touch you…” She mumbled, lost in her fantasies. Her body trembled slightly from anticipation, she was close. “Mmm... fuck... gonna cum” Her voice was strained, increasing the pressure on her throbbing clit. It was becoming challenging to stay quiet, and she just hoped you wouldn't wake up to this.
When she did come, she pulled her damp and sticky hand out of her boxers, sucking her fingers clean before turning her head slightly to look at you, admire you. You laid there sleeping like an angel, your hair cascading down your face. She watched you with mixed emotions. 
Ellie’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she breathed, and her forehead was damp with sweat, her red-brown hair sticking to her freckled lush skin. Despite the guilt she knew she should be feeling, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She promised herself she wouldn’t do it again, but deep down, she knew it was merely the first of many more. 
˳·˖𖤐 The more she did it, the more confident and bold she became, convinced that you’d never catch her.
˳·˖𖤐 One night, you had a bit too much soda before falling asleep. As the night wore on, you began to slowly wake up, feeling the urge to go to the bathroom.
She was so caught up in the moment that she didn’t notice the slight shift beside her. Your eyes fluttered open just wide enough to catch a glimpse of her hand moving under the covers. Her pale face was flushed, a blush covered her cheeks and her cute nose, her skin coated with a light sheen of sweat. She was biting down on her bottom lip, her eyes tightly shut, trying to keep herself quiet, while her tattooed arm was stuffed deep inside her boxers. Her toned abs tensed up subtly as her perky tits peeked through her black t-shirt, jiggling with every tiny movement she made. Fuck, what a sight. You thought you were dreaming. Hell, you were sure of it. Why would she even do that next to you? You knew you should’ve done or said something, but the sight of your best friend pleasuring herself right beside you only made your pussy throb madly, and the way she dirty-talked to herself to make herself cum. God.
You squeezed your thighs together, pretending to be asleep. Her soft moans made you feel indescribable things, and you felt yourself getting increasingly wet; it felt like torture to lay there and pretend to be asleep while she pleasured herself like that, but at the same time, it was addictive.  So, instead of confronting her, you decided to play along. Wearing slutty thongs to bed became your new routine, and of course, it didn’t take Ellie too long to notice. Some nights, you could feel her lifting your beloved oversized shirt up just a bit to take a better look at your body. It was hard to suppress a smile, but you managed.
“A fucking thong, really? God.” you could hear her mutter quietly.
She’d mumble random shit like, “Wanna fuck you real bad,” when she was close to her orgasm. 
You’d often shift a bit too close to her to make her freak out, interrupting her imminent orgasm. It was entertaining hearing her panic and freeze. The little sigh of relief she'd let out when she looked over you to make sure you were ‘sleeping’ was even cuter to you.
˳·˖𖤐 One day, while doing the laundry, your eyes caught a flash of red fabric peeking out of her sweatpants, tucked deep inside the pocket. A brief moment of recognition made you realize it was your thong, one that you had lost long ago. And you remembered vividly how you had always wondered where it had gone. You knew Ellie had something to do with it—indeed, you were not wrong. “Perv,” you let out a breathy chuckle as you withdrew the thong from her pocket and tossed it inside the washing machine. 
˳·˖𖤐 Though you couldn’t say shit. You weren’t really in a position to, not when you had stolen her boxers—the very ones she had made a mess of the other night, getting off to your ‘innocent’ form in that thong, all sprawled out for her eyes only. Unlike her, you had tucked it away, ensuring she’d never find it—in your bottom drawer, buried beneath a pile of neatly folded clothes.
˳·˖𖤐 Everything had been rainbows and roses since your boyfriend was out of the picture, leaving Ellie with you all to herself, just as she liked it. She’d half-expected this wouldn’t last forever, but she didn’t think it would unravel so soon, too soon.
After your shower, wrapped only in a towel, you realized you’d forgotten to grab fresh clothes. Too lazy to trek back to your room, you decided Ellie’s closet would do just fine. “El! I’m borrowing your clothes!” you called out, already swinging open her closet door without waiting for a response. The woody, warm scent of her filled the small space, mingling with the crisp smell of laundry detergent.
Your gaze drifted downward, catching on a gym bag lying half-zipped. The black fabric looked dull under the dim light, but something about it drew you in. There were dark stains on the shirt peeking out—a rusted, dried red that had you swallowing hard. Right next to it sat a Ghostface mask, its hollow, grinning face staring up at you, taunting you, like it knew something you didn’t. 
Just then, Ellie’s voice cut through the silence, a little too rushed, a little too panicked. “Wait, I’ll get it for you!” You heard her footsteps nearing, but by the time she appeared in the doorway, you were already crouched down, inspecting the items, your fingers clutching your boyfriend’s shirt—now stiff with dried blood—and a stained knife in the other.
She froze, her already pale face drained of color as your eyes met. She didn’t say a thing, didn’t try to explain or reach out. She simply stood there, like a deer caught in headlights, waiting for you to make the first move.
“What the fuck?” you choked out, anger tangling in your throat. Your voice cracked, but you didn’t let it stop you. “Why do you have this, Ellie?!” The words were sharp, edged with accusation, and your fingers tightened around the shirt, clinging to the blood-soaked fabric like it was proof of a reality she couldn’t deny. 
Ellie flinched, cursing herself for not getting rid of that piece of evidence. Maybe it was the procrastination, or perhaps she was just too wrapped up in you—you had that effect on her. Her expression flickered between panic and something else, something guarded, as if she were mentally scrambling to find the right lie to feed you.
“I swear, it’s not what it looks like.” Her voice was low, almost eerily calm, meant to keep you from losing your mind and freaking out even more, but it was doing the opposite. “Sit down. I can explain. I promise.” She inched closer, coaxing you back toward her bed, trying to control the situation, as if talking you down would make all of this disappear. But you stepped away from her, backing toward the closet instead.
“Then fucking explain,” you demanded, your voice rising, heat flooding your cheeks as your pulse hammered. Your eyes trailed down to the Ghostface mask lying on the floor, and you kicked it toward her. “What the hell are you doing with all this shit? With my boyfriend’s shirt?”
“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected you, as if that made a difference in the moment. But she cared enough about it to not hold her tongue. You scoffed in disbelief at her correction, and your stern look only prompted her to keep talking, desperate to answer your question. “I found it in the trash,” she began, her tone too smooth, her words practiced. “I was going to take it to the cops.” But you both knew that was a shitty excuse. The explanation hung in the air, feeble and hollow, cracking under the weight of your inquisitor glare.
“That’s a fucking lie, and you know it,” you spat, tightening your grip on the knife, its sharp tip now aimed right at her. 
“Just sit down, please. I’ll tell you everything.” Her words spilled out, each one more frantic than the last, thick with desperation as she inched closer, hands reaching out like she was steadying herself—or preparing to corner you.
You held your ground, pressing your back into the cold closet door, “No, fuck that!” you snapped, refusing to let her control the moment. Her jaw tightened, and in an instant, she lunged forward, catching your wrist and forcing it up against the wood, pinning the knife-holding hand in place.
“Listen to me!” she growled, her voice growing louder, almost vibrating with a tension that rippled between you, making you quiver. Her face was close, too close, so close that her warm breath hit your face, and her eyes locked onto yours, wild verdants unwavering, staring into your dilated pupils.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” you shouted, fury shaking the air between you as you pulled at her iron-tight grip. But it was useless. You were sick of her lies, of her half-truths. All you truly desired was for her to lay it all bare for you ‘cause you weren’t fucking dumb, and deep down, you knew it. You had known all along. Her grip only tightened, her knuckles turning white against your skin as her breaths came fast. This Ellie was raw, untamed—a far cry from the girl you had around every day. But in this harsh intensity, there was something real, something you’d been craving for.
“You wanna know the truth? Fine!” Her voice rose, each word bitten off, hard enough to make you flinch. She gazed down at the bloodstained shirt sprawled across the floor, her face hardening, “Yeah, that’s his. And yeah, that’s his blood. He deserved what he got.” 
“What the fuck, Ellie, you had no fucking right—” She slammed her other hand against the wooden surface of her closet door, inches away from your head, causing you to cut off your words before they could be fully uttered.
“He was cheating on you!” she interrupted you, her voice rough with anger, her face flushing red. “I saw him, alright? With that girl from the bar—the one you were always paranoid about. I fucking saw him with her. So yeah, I followed him, and things got… out of hand.”
You scanned her face, searching for any hint of regret or guilt, but all you found was a complete lack of remorse, an expression that only seemed to scream she’d do it all over again if she could. But it was exactly that thing in her eyes that pulled you in even more. “Then why not just tell me?” 
Why couldn’t you fear her? Why weren’t you grossed out? Shouldn’t you have had a typical reaction to her revelation, like screaming or crying over the brutal murder of your boyfriend? Instead, here you were, feeling oddly fascinated, giddy even.
“I wanted to,” she admitted, her voice a little raspier, her eyes glistening with what looked like tears—fake ones. The sudden empathy felt odd, something that didn’t belong to her, and you knew her too well for this shit. “But then I saw you, finally free, happy without him dragging you down. I thought I’d done you a favor. And then I just… couldn’t say it.” 
You pressed yourself harder against the closet door, staring at her like you were seeing her for the first time. You shook your head, “You’re lying,” you stated flatly, watching her mask drop.
“What? You think I’d lie?” she shot back, trying to twist the situation, like you were crazy for even suspecting her. But you knew better. Psychology classes were really paying off.
“Yes, Ellie, you’re lying.” you leaned in, and her jaw clenched as you continued. “You did it to Amanda and that girl at the party? You think I don’t remember that night? Just admit it!” You practically yelled, and a shadow passed over her face like an ominous cloud, her expression hardening again, her eyes growing cold, dark in a way that caught you off guard. One thing was for sure—there was a certain beauty in the way her captivating jade orbs effortlessly switched between the deceptive facade and the cold, calculated gaze of a serial killer. 
“Admit what?” her tone was mocking, like she was daring you to say it.
“That you—” The words stuck in your throat, your gaze slipping to the Ghostface mask on the floor. That’s when she ripped the knife out of your hand, her grip firm as she held it close to you, not quite pressing it into your skin, just close enough to see if it’d rattle you.
“C’mon,” she murmured, leaning in with that daring, dark smile, “say it.” Her eyes flashed with an edge of mania like she was enjoying this, feeding off your reactions, like some sick parasite.
“You killed them all.” you managed, voice barely a whisper, and she threw her head back in a laugh that sent chills down your spine.
“God, do you hear yourself? You sound pathetic,” she chuckled darkly, her knife tracing a line along your cheekbone, slow enough to make you shiver, close enough to cause goosebumps to erupt on your skin. Your chest tightened, your heartbeat loud in your ears as her lips curled in that contorted smile. ​​Your breath hitched as she leaned in, her gaze piercing through your irises, capturing every fleck of color.
“What? Gonna kill me now?” you breathed, your words almost taunting, a faint smirk pulling at your lips as her eyes narrowed.
She tilted the knife against your throat but still put no pressure. You felt yourself leaning into it, letting the thrill course through you and that familiar excitement growing in your tummy. “Gonna make me?” she whispered, voice thick and low, and for the briefest moment, her composure cracked—just enough for you to see her desperation, like she was hanging onto a thread. She needed you to stay, even after all this. She couldn’t live without you.
“I just want the truth,” you uttered, your voice soft, never breaking eye contact. And if you did, it was only to let your eyes drop to her lips, she was so tantalizingly close that it was impossible not to. “Drop the mind games. I want the truth.” You didn’t know how the hell you could still want her, adrenaline tangling in your chest, but you did. Maybe even more than before.
Her brows rose in mock surprise as she cocked her head. “You want the truth?” she echoed, lips parting in a cold smirk. “Fine. Yes, I killed your stupid fucking boyfriend. He died like a pussy,” she sneered, anger flashing as she clenched the knife, thinking of his hands on you, touching what had always belonged to her.
“Why?” you whispered, watching her like you were peeling away her layers, seeing her stripped of all pretenses.
“Why do you think?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes like it was obvious.
The words that tumbled from your mouth after her revelation left her almost astonished.
“How’d you kill him?” then, with a morbid fascination you added, “What did it feel like?” your head tilted slightly to the side. 
˳·˖𖤐 The more she went on and on about the macabre details, the more it turned you on. She was taken aback by your enthusiasm and curiosity, the specific questions flowing from your lips with an unsettling calm that she struggled to comprehend. It was almost as if you were savoring every twisted word that came from her. She couldn’t wrap her head around how her dark confessions had led to this moment—both of you naked, with you perched on top of her.
Ellie was gorgeous—way too gorgeous to be a serial killer, or a psychotic person. She was even more gorgeous beneath you, auburn strands of hair splayed across the pillow, messy but not as messy as her dripping pussy. Her breath hitched as your fingers tightened around the handle of her switchblade, the cold metal gliding from her neck down to her chest, drawing lazy white scratches all over her alabaster skin.
A low, frustrated groan escaped her lips as you drew lazy circles around her areolas with the sharp point of the knife, watching with satisfaction as her pink nipples hardened, standing at full attention for you, as hard as rocks and begging to be tortured. You could feel her grow restless beneath you—her hips bucking in a desperate attempt to grind against your pussy, but you lifted yourself ever so slightly, just enough to deprive her of the friction she craved.
“Desperate?” you mocked, your bottom lip jutting out in a cruel pout. Ellie’s eyes flicked up to yours, glazed with lust and frustration, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. A cocky front, even now. But it was just a front, she was so fucking weak for you.
“Yeah,” she rasped, her voice betraying her need, but her eyes showed a glint of defiance. She couldn’t resist trying to fight back. “But you’re dragging this out like a coward.”
You hummed sultrily, letting the blade press just a little harder against her dotty complexion—not enough to cut, but enough to leave faint red marks across her flesh. “Oh, you think you’re in a position to talk back?” you spat, your free hand pinning her wrist above her head as she squirmed. “You’re fucking sick, Ellie.”
“Like you’re any better,” she sneered, though her voice trembled as the tip of the knife traced down her sternum toward her stomach. Goosebumps rose on her sun-spotted skin as her breathing became more erratic, her hips lifting in vain again to seek the friction you kept cruelly out of her reach.
“Not the one going around killing people, am I?” you snorted, the blade now grazing and lingering just below her belly button.
Ellie’s defiance cracked, her voice weaker, more fragile as she muttered, “I did it for you.” it made your heart skip a beat or beat faster—you really couldn’t tell from all that adrenaline clouding your rational thoughts.
“You’re trembling,” you noted with a sly smirk, her cocky grin faltering as the knife inched lower, closer to where she needed you most. Ellie bit her lip hard, a needy whimper slipping through despite her best effort to stifle it.
“I need you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, one hand reaching up to rest on your hip. Her touch sent a shiver through you, and you couldn’t help but lower yourself closer, pressing your body against hers. 
A wicked smirk tugged at your lips, pride swelling in your chest at the sight of her—the usually cold, calculated killer, reduced to this. All because of you. Seeing her this weak for you truly made you want to do the unholiest things to her, things you knew she would never forget about. You tossed the switchblade aside, forgotten as soon as your lips descended on her neck, sucking dark spots on her soft flesh. You let your teeth sink in, biting just hard enough to get a soft sound out of her. The auburnette was so desperate and sensitive that everything seemed to make her moan—every brief touch, every kiss, even your breathing fanning over her skin. She was already half-gone, and you were barely even getting started.
Her skin flushed beneath your lips as you kissed your way down her body, taking your sweet time, savoring each second of her squirming beneath you. Her breaths grew more ragged, her thighs twitching as you moved lower. Ellie’s body was a temple, and right now, it was all yours to worship.
She’d killed for you, it was the least you could do. So, was romance really dead?
˳·˖𖤐 You’d never imagined Ellie would care that much, never thought she’d be capable of that level of obsession. And you didn’t mind it one bit. No, quite the opposite. The realization only made your pussy throb madly, heat pooling between your thighs as your mind replayed her confession over and over like a broken record, focusing on the brutal details she had given you. It wasn’t just the idea of her killing—it was that she did it because of you, because she couldn’t let anyone else have you.
Every single muscle in her body tensed, her legs trembling as you hovered right above her hairy mound. You could see it—the way her wetness coated her folds, her pink clit, swollen and impatient, her pussy practically begging for attention, and it only made you want to tease her more. Your thumb teasingly drew tight, gentle circles on her aching nub, making her whimper almost exaggeratedly.
“Aww, look at you…” you purred, retracting your hand, your voice low, honed in sweet mockery. You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over her sensitive skin. “Soaking wet, desperate for me to touch you. Gonna start begging now?”
Your words made her whine, her resolve crumbling more with each passing second—not that there was any left. Her body betrayed her, hips lifting toward your face, her need palpable. But you weren’t done playing with her yet. You had all night ahead.
Your arms curled around her toned thighs, pulling her closer as you knelt at the edge of the bed, your face mere inches from her pussy. You could see how wet she was, how desperate she had become—there was even a dark wet patch on the sheets beneath her. You smirked up at her, eyes locking with hers as you lowered your mouth to her slick folds. With the tip of your tongue, you spread her moistened lips, and it was enough to make Ellie’s entire body jolt, a choked moan tearing from her throat as you tasted her, her sweet juices coating your lips as you lapped at her with slow, deliberate cat licks.
Ellie’s head fell back against the pillow, her hands gripping your hair with white-knuckled desperation as you ate her out, tongue flicking over her clit every now and then with just enough pressure to drive her mad. You sucked, your lips closing around her swollen bud, and Ellie’s back arched painfully off the bed, her thighs trembling around your head.
“Fuck… fuck…” she gasped, her hoarse voice scratching her already dry throat as her hips bucked uncontrollably and you held her down, refusing to let her squirm away from the relentless onslaught of your mouth.
You smirked against her, the vibrations of your giggle only making her moan louder. “Look at you, El,” you teased, your voice muffled between her thighs. “So sweet ‘n perfect f’me,”
You didn’t wait for a response, diving back in, your tongue swirling around her clit as you slipped two fingers inside her, curling them with brutal precision, finding that sweet spot that had her toes curling, her breath catching in her throat. Her gummy walls clenched around your fingers, and you could feel how close she was, her legs shaking violently.
Ellie’s moans grew louder, more frantic, her hands tugging at your hair hard as she tried to ground herself, grinding against your tongue. But you didn’t slow down—if anything, you fucked her harder, your fingers pumping into her fast and deep, your mouth never abandoning her needy clit, your nose buried in her trimmed bush.
“Beg me,” you commanded as you pulled away to breathe, her core swallowing every inch of your fingers greedily. All those years of plugging her fingers deep inside her wet cunt imagining they were yours instead were so worth the wait.
“I—fuck—” the green-eyed girl’s breath caught, her body shaking uncontrollably, her voice barely a whisper now. “Please… please…” She couldn’t even fucking function; you had reduced her to a broken mess.
“Can’t hear you,” you prompted her, your fingers plunging deeper, harder, until her back arched off the bed, a cry of pure need tearing from her throat.
“Fuck! Please, I need it—I need you—fuck, I’m so close!” she sobbed, her voice cracking as her orgasm crept closer, promising her to see stars, but you weren’t about to give her what she wanted—no, not yet.
You grinned wickedly, pulling your fingers out of her soaked pussy just before she could. A strangled, frustrated sob escaped her plump lips as her body writhed beneath you, her orgasm stolen, leaving her aching and needy.
“Aw, you’re not so smart, are you? You really thought I was going to let you come?” You leaned in, pressing your lips to her ear as you whispered, “Oh no, El… we’re just getting started. You’re not going anywhere.”
˳·˖𖤐 Ellie’s eyes widened with a mixture of frustration and confusion as you told her you’d let her come after you were done using her. You reached for your favorite strap-on, adjusting the harness until it sat snugly around her hips. Her wrists were bound securely to the headboard, the cuffs’ soft, fluffy lining pressing firmly against her skin. Her breath caught in her throat as the realization dawned on her, her eyes darting between the toy and your wicked grin. 
Her pupils were blown with lust as she watched you lower yourself onto her, the thick silicone toy sliding in with ease after you’d teased your throbbing bud with its tip. Her hands twitched, desperate to reach out, to touch you, but she couldn’t do much with the handcuffs keeping her wrists locked to the bed, the soft restraints holding her firmly in place. She watched with wide eyes as her cock stretched your needy, wet heat, sliding in and out. At first, your movements were slow and teasing, letting her take in every inch, but it didn’t take long before you picked up the pace, your body already accustomed to its size, moving with a frantic, eager rhythm.
“Fuuuck…” you panted, rolling your hips against the toy, your breath hitching as that familiar feeling built in your stomach. Ellie’s gaze was glued to you—your bouncing tits, your parted lips, the way your body moved smoothly above her. She wanted to touch, to feel you, but all she could do was watch as you used her, as you fucked yourself on the strap like she wasn’t even there. It was cruel, truly. Her body trembled with need as she watched you lose yourself in the overwhelming pleasure, her pussy throbbing with unmet desire as yours seemed to suck the toy deeper, and for a moment, she swore she could feel your walls tightening around her—perhaps it was the desperation playing a sick joke on her. She couldn’t help but let out a moan.
˳·˖𖤐 She had tried begging but she’d only be met with things such as:
“Cry about it,” you sneered, your voice cold and mocking as you watched her squirm restlessly beneath you.
“You’re such a fucking crybaby,” you murmured, fingers gripping onto her chin and forcing her to look at you as if her desperation was nothing more than a joke to you.
“I’m putting up a whole show for you, and you’re still complaining,” you chuckled darkly, a twisted satisfaction curling at the corners of your mouth as you looked down at her, reveling in her helplessness, your wetness dripping down the harness, making a mess on top of her.
“Please,” she whimpered, her voice cracking as she thrusted up. Mewls slipped out of your soft lips as the tip of her silicone cock hit your cervix, desperation written all over her flushed face. “Please let me touch you... let me do something...” Her voice hitched as she choked on a sob, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her glassy eyes locked onto yours, her cheeks streaked with the remnants of her pleas. “Fuck, I can’t—” she cried out, voice breaking again, her head tilting back as she tried to hold herself together. Her gaze flickered back up to you, trailing to your chest, lingering there hungrily. Bushy brows furrowed with longing as she licked her chapped lips.
But you weren’t listening. You were too lost in the pleasure of fucking yourself on her, your head thrown back, sobs pouring from your lips as the strap-on hit that perfect spot against your cervix. Your movements grew more frantic, hips slamming down harder, faster, the toy sliding in and out of your slick folds with ease. The wet sounds of your arousal filled her room, mixing with the desperate, needy gasps that escaped Ellie beneath you, her fingers curling into fists as the cuffs dug into her velvety skin, promising bruises she’d feel long after this was over.
Her eyes glazed over, chest rising and falling rapidly as she watched you ride her with reckless abandon. The sight of you, your body glistening with sweat, pretty tits bouncing with every thrust, was too much for her. She was on the edge, teetering, her body aching to release, but you wouldn’t let her. You wouldn’t let her do shit.
Ellie groaned, frustration and lust mixing in her voice as she bucked her hips uselessly beneath you, trying to gain even a fraction of relief from the sight of you fucking yourself senseless. “Please… please, I’m begging you,” she whimpered, her voice hoarse and broken, and god if it nearly made you squirt. “I need it—I need to come, please…”
You smirked down at her, not stopping, your hips grinding harder, riding the strap with everything you had. You leaned down, your breath hot against the shell of her ear as you whispered, “You’re not coming until I say you can. You’re going to sit there and watch me get off, and there’s nothing you can fucking do about it.” Cruelly pressing damp and sloppy kisses on the column of her neck, kisses that had her gasping pathetically.
˳·˖𖤐 And it went on and on, her eyes locked on the sight of your milky cum dripping down the thick, black strap, each drop making her bite back a groan. She wished she could taste you. Every time she tried to move or squirm too much for your liking, you’d smack her hard across the face, or switch to a new position just to tease her even more, making sure you were giving her the best view. It was only after the fifth—or maybe the sixth—orgasm that you finally uncuffed her.
The moment her wrists were free, she flipped you over, quick as lightning, giving you no time to react. She pinned you beneath her with a mischievous glint in her eyes, you looked up at her, panting and spent, your brows knitting together in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. She just smirked down at you, spreading your trembling legs apart with ease, her grip firm and unyielding.
“Oh fuck, no—” you gasped out, trying to squirm away as she wrapped her hand around the slick toy, guiding it right back to your abused entrance. She knew she could probably come right then, grinding against the back of the strap, but the thought of pushing you past your limits was far more thrilling. 
“You’re not stupid enough to think I’d let you go so easily, right?” she repeated your earlier words, her voice low and dangerous as she lowered herself over you, your sweaty bodies pressing together. “Didn’t you wanna be my helpless victim, babe?”
The redhead pushed in relentlessly, forcing your pulsating walls to swallow every inch, your back arching as she made you hold on just a little longer. Before long, your legs gave out beneath you as she pounded into you from behind, each thrust deep and brutal, your cheek pressed into the soft mattress. Her hand came down hard on your ass, leaving a sharp sting that burned like a bitch. The smacks kept coming, over and over, until your skin was bruised and your body was shaking with overstimulation. “This is for leaving me high and dry,” she hissed, her voice rough with frustration and desire, slapping the same bruised spot again and again, until you knew you’d be sore for days, unable to sit down.
˳·˖𖤐 When it was finally over, the two of you laid tangled together, breathless and sticky. Ellie’s chest heaved as she tried to steady her breathing, but a question lingered in her eyes—one that seemed to claw at her even now, despite everything you’d done to show her you weren’t running, that you weren’t disgusted by her nature. You had never been, for the matter, even when you were kids.
“You’re not gonna tell on me, yeah?” she rasped, her voice rough, her grip tightening possessively on your hip while her other hand gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Her touch was surprisingly tender, contrasting with the weight of her words, like she was scared to hear your answer. It made your heart swell knowing she feared losing you so badly.
But you were so drunk of the overwhelming contentment that you barely registered the tension in her voice. Instead, a sleepy smile tugged at your lips, and you blurted out, “Wanna be my girlfriend?” The question slipped out before you could think, your gaze locked onto her freckled face, admiring every angle and curve, the way the warm dim light softened her expression.
Ellie blinked, caught off guard, before a playful smirk curved her lips. “I am your girlfriend,” she gave your hip a gentle swat that made you chuckle softly, the sound mixing with the quiet hum of the fan.
“Y’know…you’re right,” you mumbled suddenly. Her hand drifted to your back, scratching lightly, soothing you as your body relaxed into hers. You turned your head, meeting her soft eyes again, while something darker flashed in yours. “He fucking deserved what he got,” Your voice was low, carrying a finality that made Ellie’s breath hitch. It was all the reassurance she needed. A wide grin spread across her face, her eyes lighting up with something almost feral, a giddy kind of joy. It was a smile so genuine, so purely her, that it was impossible to resist leaning in to kiss her, your lips meeting hers in a messy, heated kiss. 
“But yeah, if you leave me I’m gonna tell on you.”
˳·˖𖤐 She had gotten clingier and more eager after that night, always looking for an excuse to touch you, to keep you within reach. Whenever you went somewhere, Ellie trailed right behind you, like a shadow that wouldn’t leave your side. And honestly, you loved it—you thrived on bossing her around, enjoying how she would drop whatever she was doing just to be with you. If the two of you were inseparable as friends before, it had only gotten worse. Not that the obsessive, morbid love wasn’t there before, but now you both let it show, with no boundaries left to be set, no rules, just whatever twisted thing you both had become together.
˳·˖𖤐 Time flew by, and soon Halloween rolled around again, your favorite holiday. Ellie knew it, too, and she didn’t even try to say no when you convinced her to tag along to a party you’d been invited to. It was supposed to be a small, “close friends only” type of thing, but you dragged her with you anyway, making it clear you weren’t going to take no for an answer. Plus, you’d been at each other’s throats lately, bickering more than usual, and she didn’t want to risk making you any angrier. It was either coming along without putting up a fight or dealing with the idea of you going solo—knowing she’d just end up following you like the little creep she was, lurking in the shadows, making sure no one even dared to touch you.
˳·˖𖤐 The party turned out to be better than either of you had expected. A few drinks in, and you both started to loosen up, Ellie sticking close, practically attached to your side with some invisible rope. It was like she couldn’t let you out of her sight, even for a second, her hand always finding its way to your back or waist, keeping you close. You danced together, swaying in the colorful, pulsing lights, your bodies brushing intimately against each other. Her eyes stayed glued to you the whole time, like you were the Holy Mary herself, and she just couldn’t get enough. You reveled in her devotion, the way her grip on your hips would tighten as you moved. It was such a turn-on.
Eventually, the party began to wind down, and it wasn’t long before it was just the two of you left with Allison and her boyfriend, Lucas. The four of you gravitated toward the kitchen, where Ellie leaned against the counter, elbows propped up on the cold granite. She played with the knives, her fingers casually tracing the handles, sliding them in and out of the block absentmindedly.
Allison scrolled through her phone, her brown eyes squinting at the screen’s dim glow. “Another guy went missing,” she announced, her voice wavering as she scanned through the article. “I bet Ghostface has something to do with it.”
“Tragic,” Ellie muttered, her tone devoid of sympathy. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, a ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. You watched her, catching the unsettling indifference in her voice. When she noticed your gaze, she raised an eyebrow in mock innocence, daring you to question her. Instead, she shrugged. Allison went on and on about how creepy it was that Ghostface could be literally anyone, her voice holding a mix of fascination and fear. 
“I mean, think about it,” she said, eyes wide as she gestured dramatically. “It could be your neighbor, your friend, even someone you totally trust! Just wearing that mask and knife in hand, ready to strike any moment. It’s so fucked up!” As Allison thought about the countless times she had passed by potential killers, she couldn’t help but shudder in fear at her luck. How many times had she walked down a dark alleyway, taken a walk alone at night, or even trusted the wrong person? The thought of her mortality sent a chill down her spine and made her wonder how long her luck would hold out.
“Yeah, it’s scary,” you hummed, but then the conversation shifted back to the guy who had gone missing. 
“You’ve got to be dumb to get killed like that, though,” Ellie scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. “Came all the way from Michigan just to end up dead? Pathetic. Guess all those muscles didn’t help much.”
Allison frowned at Ellie’s lack of empathy, but she shrugged it off, scrolling through her phone for more details, her thumb flicking faster across the screen. “That’s… awful,” you murmured, chewing on your bottom lip as you glanced over at Lucas, who seemed unfazed by the conversation.
Lucas noticed your look and mistook it for unease. “You okay?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes. “Want a drink or something?”
You nodded, playing into his kindness. “Sure, thanks.”
He leaned over, pressing a kiss to Allison’s head before heading to the kitchen, leaving you, Ellie, and Allison alone in the dim living room.
“Wait—” Allison’s brows knitted in confusion, her voice soft but growing with unease. “How’d you know he was from Michigan? It doesn’t say anything about…” Her voice trailed off as she continued scrolling, her eyes flicking back and forth over the screen, trying to make sense of what Ellie had just casually dropped.
Ellie’s smile barely flickered. “Just a guess,” she replied smoothly, her gaze icy and unbothered, creeping Allison out.
You chuckled at the exchange, and Allison turned to you with a confused look. “C’mon, cheer up, Allison! We’re just messing with you. Can’t you take a joke? It’s Halloween!”
Allison’s frown deepened as she glanced between you and Ellie, her eyes clouding with suspicion. She let out a nervous laugh, trying to shake off the unsettling vibe. “You two are… really something,” she said, brushing it off, not wanting to overthink it. Maybe paranoia was just doing her dirty. Oh, if she only knew.
Ellie smirked, she leaned forward, her voice dropping low. “Oh, you have no idea,” she whispered, her tone laced with something dark and final, a warning the girl didn’t quite catch.
Lucas handed you the drink, his face lighting up with an easy smile, completely unaware of the exchange. 
“You guys wanna play a game?” you asked, grinning at Allison and Lucas. The suggestion hung in the air, deceptively playful. Allison exchanged a look with Lucas, her unease melting a bit, as if convincing herself she was just imagining things.
She forced a smile. “Sure. What kind of game?”
Ellie’s grin widened, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “How about something… fun?”
˳·˖𖤐 Maybe it was the thrill of the game or the intoxicating rush of chaos, but after a few questions were answered and it was your turn, your eyes widened in shock as the blade pierced your stomach. Time seemed to slow down as you locked eyes with Ellie, and what you saw there sent a chill down your spine—your girlfriend’s eyes were empty, devoid of emotion—not even guilt shone in her eyes. It was like staring into a void. 
Blood poured from your mouth, warm and sticky, and panic coursed through you. When a week ago she had suggested trying something new, never did you think that would lead to this—her knife buried deep inside your insides, and blood pouring out of you like a crimson-tainted waterfall.
“W-why…?” you choked on your own blood, the words barely audible but with the stillness of the room, they seemed to echo louder. 
Allison and Lucas stood completely frozen, utterly speechless, their bodies rigid with shock as they watched the horrific scene unfold before their eyes, feeling useless and not knowing how to stop it. The crimson blood pooled out of your wound, soaking the fabric of your shirt, while Ellie’s gloves gleamed with a sinister shine. The red wasn’t so visible against the darkness of her attire, but it was there, unmistakable. 
“It was the wrong answer, babe,” Ellie whispered, her words dripping with a sickening sweetness that made your skin crawl, and the innocent faint smile on her face made Allison want to rip her hair out. 
“WHAT THE FUCK!” Allison screamed, her voice laced with disbelief, her eyes wide as she took a shaky step back.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Lucas followed, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and anger, trying to process the madness unfolding in front of him.
“YOU’RE A FUCKING MONSTER!” Allison yelled, her voice cracking as she cried, her hands shaking.
Your body hit the floor with a heavy thud, and through half-lidded eyes, you saw the panic set in as Allison and Lucas before you stopped breathing entirely. They scrambled for the door, nearly tripping over themselves. Allison’s frantic, manicured hands rattled desperately the knob, her voice shrill as she screamed for help, but the door wouldn’t budge. Locked. 
And she hadn’t locked it. She was sure she hadn’t.
Lucas, desperate to protect her, grabbed a vase from the entry table and hurled it at Ellie, the glass shattering against her shoulder with a harsh crack. It staggered her for a moment, just long enough for them to dart in separate directions, fleeing up the stairs. 
Ellie grinned, her eyes flashing with excitement as she took off after Lucas, her steps heavy but steady, savoring the thrill of the chase, like a cat chasing a mouse. She looked over her shoulder at you before she raced up the stairs. Allison stumbled into the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The auburnette could hear the blonde girl breathing heavily, panicked, the creak of the floorboards giving her away as she backed into the room.
But she decided to take care of Lucas instead, having labeled Allison as the weakest between the two. She successfully cornered Lucas at the end of the hallway. He threw open the door to the master bathroom, eyes darting desperately around for anything he could use to defend himself. He grabbed a towel rack, ripping it off the wall and wielding it like a bat as Ellie advanced on him, her face lit with a twisted satisfaction. A stupid towel rack wasn’t going to stop her, and honestly, it excited her. She loved how people fought for their lives, no matter how fucked up the situation was. It was fascinating to watch, like a wild show of survival instincts kicking in. The panic, the desperation on their faces and in their actions—it was what got her heart racing and made her feel alive.
“You… you’re insane!” Lucas stammered, brandishing the metal rod with trembling hands.
He was taller, bigger, stronger—details that only made the auburnette’s grin widen, her attentive eyes narrowing with anticipation. To her, he was nothing but a challenge, one she was all too eager to take on. Ellie chuckled darkly, her eyes never leaving him as she took one slow, measured step forward. “Only now figuring that out, huh?” She took another step, her shadow looming over him as he shrank back against the tiled wall, his breaths coming in panicked gasps. He swung the metal bar, catching her arm with a glancing hit, but it only seemed to amuse her more. She couldn’t feel pain—not even the faintest pulse of her own heartbeat, completely drowned out by the surge of adrenaline flooding her veins. She felt invincible.
With a swift, practiced precision, Ellie caught his wrist, twisting it sharply until the rod clattered to the aquamarine floor. “Nice try, Lucas,” she hissed before shoving him backward, hard enough that his head cracked against the tile. He slumped to the floor, groaning, his vision swimming as Ellie towered over him. But he fought nonetheless, his hands trying to stop her from sinking the sharp knife into his throat, but it didn’t last long. He didn’t last long.
“That was stupid,” she panted, standing over his corpse, her look sharp and full of disdain. Her face was scrunched in anger, but the adrenaline flooding her veins felt incredible—like a drug she couldn’t get enough of. The thrill of it. A loud noise snapped her from her thoughts. The old wood creaked under her black boots as she headed toward the room where she’d last seen Allison hide.
˳·˖𖤐 The guest bedroom door was slightly ajar, and she shoved it open with a firm kick. Her eyes locked onto Allison, sprawled lifeless on the floor, blood pooling around her still body. Her face was frozen in horror as if she’d seen a ghost in her final moments. Her gaze drifted up—to you, standing just a few feet from Allison’s lifeless body.
“Hey, babe,” you said with a crooked smile, giving her a little wave, clearly nervous but with a spark of excitement in your eyes that made her stare in awe. She remembered that feeling all too well—the jitters, the high that followed her first time. And here you were, cheeks flushed and grinning ear to ear like the fucking Cheshire cat, looking so damn giddy as you took it all in—like a kid who had just discovered their new favorite toy. 
Trying new things had definitely been the right move, and Ellie didn’t regret it for a second, because you were practically glowing. For the first time, you felt truly alive. It hit you then, just how much emptiness you’d been carrying all these years, how you’d learned to live with that hollow feeling. But this? This made you feel whole. Euphoric. Alive in every possible way.
“How’d I do?” you asked, almost childlike, looking up at her with eager eyes, fishing for approval—her approval. It was all you needed, and it felt like trying to impress a middle school crush all over again.
“Pretty good, my love. You did great,” she praised, a hint of pride sneaking into her voice.
“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.
Her gaze softened briefly, a low, amused, throaty laugh slipping from her lips as she pushed a stray lock of hair back with the back of her blood-stained glove, leaving a smudged streak of red across her cheekbone. Her emerald eyes sparkled as she took in the mess you’d created. “You know, for a second there, I didn’t think you’d go through with it. Look at you now.” Her tongue darted across her bottom lip as she looked at you up and down, ready to pounce on you any time now.
You blushed, a bit sheepish, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the floor. “What can I say? Guess you’re a bad influence,” you smirked, shrugging it off like it was nothing.
She tossed the knife aside, and you mirrored her every move, watching as she peeled off her gloves and stepped closer. Her toothy smile widened as she pulled you in, her thumb brushing softly across your cheekbone, still warm from the adrenaline rush, while her other trembling hand rested on your waist. “Oh, yeah? Gonna start blaming me now?”
“Maybe,” you shot back, eyes sparkling with mischief. 
The freckled girl leaned in, pressing her lips against yours, soft and warm and she tasted so sweet.
“Your performance down there was flawless, and your technique…” she trailed off, her eyes trailing down to Allison’s body, “Not bad for your first time. A little shaky on the left stab, but hey,” she shrugged, lips curling into a teasing smirk, knowing damn well that even the gentlest dose of constructive criticism would get under your skin, “we’ll work on it.”
You scoffed and swatted her hand away, but Ellie just giggled, her laugh soft and breathless. “Can’t believe you got that question wrong, though,” she reached up to cup your face, her thumb brushing your cheek again, she couldn’t keep her hands off of you. That familiar smug smirk tugged at her heart-shaped lips as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a more playful one, her breath warm against your heated skin. “We’ve only watched the first Scream movie a hundred times together,” she said, almost mockingly offended, her green eyes bright with mischief, the ones that told you exactly what she had in mind. And she swore she was falling deeper for you, you had her in a chokehold.
You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “I only watched it because you were obsessed with it and I thought you were cute,” you admitted.
Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she raised her scarred eyebrow at you. “Oh, is that so?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling her hand drift lower to your waist, pulling you closer, you cupped her cheek, your thumb caressing her blood-stained cheekbone lovingly, staring at her enamored.
Her lips brushed against your ear, voice low and teasing. “You know what I'm really in the mood for?” Her hand slipped lower and lower until it was resting on your plush ass, giving it a suggestive squeeze.
You chuckled, pretending to think. “Pizza?”
She let out a soft laugh. “I was gonna say you, but…” She gave you that crooked, lopsided smile, shrugging playfully.
You snorted, “Oh, well, that too. I just didn’t know killing works up your appetite.”
Her smirk deepened, revealing that dimple on her left cheek you loved so much, her infatuated gaze lingering on your lips almost as if she wanted to swallow you whole. “My bad. Should’ve warned you,” she murmured, then backed you toward the bed behind you, her hands rough but confident, pressing you down as she crawled on top, her breath hot and insistent against your supple skin.
Before you knew it, she was buried deep inside you, slender, calloused fingers curling and pressing against that spot that had you whining, and your legs trembling. Her other hand gripped her switchblade, cool metal tracing up to press it against your throat, and she could feel you squeeze her fingers. “Awwhh, baby,” she taunted, voice dripping with mockery. “You keep squirming like that, and it’s gonna cost you your life.”
You choked out a laugh, though it came out breathless and shaky. “You’d cum at the sight, wouldn’t you?” You bit your lip to stifle a moan, body struggling to hold still as she kept up that relentless rhythm, her fingers stretching and curling deep inside you, making your whole body shudder. You couldn’t help but trap her arm, a weak attempt to slow her down because you knew you wouldn’t last. Not with her pressing a knife on your throat. “Fucking psycho.”
“But you love me.” She said it so matter-of-factly, her lips curling with satisfaction as she watched you nod, helpless and needy, your eyes fluttering shut as your walls clenched around her, drawing her in like you couldn’t get enough.
“Yeah, I love you! F-Fuck…” you gasped, grinding down on her fingers, desperate, craving that friction your hungry clit needed. 
Her smitten gaze drifted to the lifeless body sprawled across the room, a proud smirk tugging at her lips. “So proud of you. You did such a good job. Look at her.” She tilted your face, forcing you to take it in. “Your work.” And in her fucked up mind, she truly believed it—your work deserved to be worshiped, just like Picasso’s after he was gone. A masterpiece, painted with every kind of brutal emotion.
You let out a shaky breath, almost dazed. “Yeah, I… I did that,” you stammered, voice breaking, caught somewhere between a whimper and a sob, you could feel it, you were close already and all that praising surely wasn’t helping.
“That’s right,” she murmured, nodding as her eyes roamed over you, taking you in like she was seeing you for the first time, it made you melt. “You’re so fucking hot, god. Made just for me. Perfect for me.”
˳·˖𖤐 Maybe she was right. You felt it deep down, a truth that clung to you. A match made in hell. And as long as you had her, you’d be more than fine.
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illnessfaker · 9 months ago
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tw: murder, transmisogynoir
( article published feb. 24th, 2024 )
COLUMBIA, S.C. — A South Carolina man was found guilty Friday of killing a Black transgender woman in the nation’s first federal trial over a hate crime based on gender identity.
After deliberating for roughly four hours, jurors convicted Daqua Lameek Ritter of a hate crime for the murder of Dime Doe in 2019. Ritter was also found guilty of using a firearm in connection with the fatal shooting and obstructing justice.
A sentencing date has not yet been scheduled. Ritter faces a maximum of life imprisonment without parole.
[...]
The four-day trial over Doe’s killing centered on the secret sexual relationship between her and Ritter, the latter of whom had grown agitated by the exposure of their affair in the small town of Allendale, according to witness testimony and text messages obtained by the FBI. Prosecutors accused Ritter of shooting Doe three times with a .22 caliber handgun to prevent further revelation of their romance.
[...]
Doe’s close friends testified that it was no secret in Allendale that she had begun her social transition as a woman shortly after graduating high school. She started dressing in skirts, getting her nails done and wearing extensions. She and her friends discussed boys they were seeing — including Ritter, whom she met during one of his many summertime visits from New York to stay with family.
But text messages obtained by the FBI suggested that Ritter sought to keep their relationship under wraps as much as possible, prosecutors said. He reminded her to delete their communications from her phone, and hundreds of texts sent in the month before her death were removed.
Shortly before Doe’s death, their exchanges grew tense. In one message from July 29, 2019, she complained that Ritter did not reciprocate her generosity. He replied that he thought they had an understanding that she didn’t need the “extra stuff.”
He also told her that Delasia Green, his main girlfriend at the time, had insulted him with a homophobic slur after learning of the affair. In a July 31 text, Doe said she felt used and Ritter should never have let Green find out about them.
[...]
Green said that when he showed up days later at her cousin’s house in Columbia, he was dirty, smelly and couldn’t stop pacing. Her cousin’s boyfriend gave Ritter a ride to the bus stop. Before he left, Green asked him if he had killed Doe.
“He dropped his head and gave me a little smirk,” Green said.
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from the HRC:
Doe���s friends and family remembered her on social media as having a “bright personality” and being someone who “showed love” and who was “the best to be around.” Another friend wrote, “If I knew Friday was my last time seeing you, I would have hugged you even tighter.”
according to NYT's article, she also worked as a hairdresser. she was only 24.
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jerryseinfeldisafurry · 26 days ago
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I have to speak my peace about Captain Curly
Warning: mouthwashing spoilers
So, I’ve noticed a lot of people saying the same points that are essentially: “Oh Curly is a piece of shit because he just let his buddy get away with assaulting Anya”
And I am here to argue against this point. So at no point does Curly deny, or tell Anya that what she went through never happened, or anything like that. Usually, when somebody “supports their friend” after said friend commits assault, they will react with disbelief, or just general distrust for the person accusing their friend. I feel like the fact that Anya continuously makes small references to the assault situation around Curly, and the fact she talks and is alone with Captain Curly so often, are indicators that she has not been met with disbelief or distrust on his end.
When a victim receives a bad reaction to telling somebody about their assault, they usually do not bring it up or talk about it with that person after that. They also would not have the same dynamic, the same relaxed mannerisms that Anya has with Curly.
Now, onto the point where people accuse Curly of enabling Jimmy, I also don’t think that’s true. They are stuck on a relatively small ship, with no way out for over a year. They can’t risk hurting or punishing Jimmy, because Curly of all people will know how reactionary and violent Jimmy can be. They can’t kill him, because that’s illegal, and Curly is unfortunately responsible for Jimmy considering he is the Captain of the ship. Aside from the fact that, with the way Pony Express is shown to treat the crew, if they harmed or killed one of their own crew members it’s entirely possible that they would not get paid at all, and all the work and time and energy (and suffering, on Anya’s part) would literally be for nothing. Then they also get tried for murder, and they would have to prove that Jimmy did something wrong, they would have to prove that Jimmy assaulted Anya. After half a year of him being dead, with no physical evidence to prove what he did except a pregnancy that they can’t prove was forced upon her.
Curly is not enabling his friend, and trying to sweep the situation under the rug, he is literally constantly trying to deescalate the situation. Curly doesn’t act like he’s just trying to make the situation disappear. When Anya expresses that she’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t even say out right that she doesn’t want to do his evaluation. Yet Curly decides to volunteer despite not really having the experience, and it also not being in his job description. After Anya tells Jimmy she’s pregnant, and she’s scared for her life, Curly goes to try and talk to Jimmy. He tries to get Jimmy to calm down, and to think rationally, he tries to keep Jimmy from acting out. and then Jimmy goes and crashes the entire fucking ship into an asteroid. Even if they wanted to imprison him, there was nowhere to put him. The only places that had locks were the cockpit and medical. We saw what happened when he was in the cock pit alone, and the last place he needs to be is the one place that Anya can really call her own.
When Curly says he’ll talk to Jimmy, that’s not him belittling the situation. He needs to stay calm and reassure Anya that he’s trying to help her. If Curly was immediately like “I’m gonna go kick his ass” or if he insisted on some sort of retaliation against Jimmy, then that would just stress Anya out more. There is no way to keep eyes on Jimmy at all times, and if he faces any punishment over Anya then she knows he will find a way to punish her for it. Aside from the fact that, I think Curly may have done whatever she asked, especially with the way he emphasized he’d do “anything” to help her when she first tells him that she’s pregnant. He informs her that he truly cares about her, her wellbeing is his responsibility.
Anya also seems to be way too forgiving for her own good. Even when she thought Curly tried to kill all of them, all she had to say was that she couldn’t believe that a person’s worst moments make them a monster. If she was willing to forgive what she thought was attempted murder, I’m sure she came up with every excuse in the book for Jimmy. I’m not saying it’s right, I’m not saying she deserved it. She didn’t. What she went through was fucking awful and horrific. But it’s in her nature to forgive people, even when they really don’t fucking deserve it. We don’t even know if she knew she was assaulted the whole time, since there’s a good chance that Jimmy manipulated her into thinking she deserved it/wanted it. It may be possible that she thought she deserved it, and was too ashamed to speak about it openly for a while, with only the feelings of disgust and shame to accompany her.
Let’s also take into consideration that Anya was not the only person Jimmy was abusive to. We saw the way he talked to Curly, especially at the birthday celebration. Jimmy was an abusive dickhead to everyone. The last time Curly tried deescalating the situation before the crash, Jimmy immediately started taking the stuff Curly told him in confidence and using it against him, to make Curly just as miserable as he was. Jimmy turned his own suffering into shared suffering because then he could tell himself that he wasn’t just trying to get away from his own actions, he was trying to HELP his friend, who was also suffering.
My point is, I think too many people are not thinking deeply enough about Curly, as well as the context on the entire situation. They are putting blame on him when he is also a victim of Jimmy. It was literally just an overall shitty situation
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mrslaflour · 3 months ago
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ᙏ̤̫ — ARE YOU GOING TO THE GRAPE TEAMS PARTY TONIGHT ? ? ! !
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pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ ot5 x fem!reader
genre ⸝⸝⸝ smut, dark (noncon), football player txt, cheerleader reader, reader is under 21 but 18 or over (implied)
warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ txt are serial r8pists, unprotected sex, noncon, mean dom!txt, language, name calling, anal.., reader is dry (referring to her 😽), really not much prep on certain members, reader does not enjoy this in any way, drinking, smoking, reader is a virgin but she never states that to them, the things they do to her get more and more wild as each person takes their ‘turn’, possible murder allusions, suffocation, choking, oral (both), hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, gagging, riding, tummy bulge,
summary ‎⸝⸝⸝ after every important football game, 5 of some of the star football players at the school pick one cheerleader to “mess with”. the school knows them as the grape team, so clearly people know that they’re r8pists, no? no it’s not true at all! it’s just some stupid rumors girls make up for attention! they’re just jealous they can’t be with them so they want to make them look bad and are just trying to ruin their futures. how wrong of them to do such a thing, right? they’re just pitiful jealous whores…
your school had to be the absolute most stereotypical school from every tv show. dumb blondes, cheerleaders with big tits, football players with big dicks, nobody had a personality of their own. everybody on their knees for the star football team. as much as your school was filled with the stereotypical rich kid who’s daddy thinks that they’re going to be an all star athlete soon to be in the olympics, they kind of had every right to think that. your school had one of the best football teams in your whole city. it was rare that you ever heard that your school lost, it was basically unheard of. but within that big football team consists of a decently sized click. the grape team is what everyone knows them as. for really fucked up reasons too.
everyone knows them as the five sexy football players that every girl would love to get railed by, even just one of them! or you know them as the five football boys who once a year pick a cheerleader, typically the new girl on the block, to invite to their party, get her all fucked up and dizzy, bring her up to their bedroom, and fuck her so hard to the point she’s knocked out and doesn’t even remember waking up to go to school that day. but those are just rumors! come on, nobody would ruin their perfect all star record just to sleep with some bimbo cheerleader who supposedly didn’t want it when they could literally have any girl they wanted with the consent part involved. these girls are just mad that they didn’t want to fuck them or they didn’t want to date them so they go around saying these things just to try to ruin their chances of being a star. jealousy is such an awful disease. either that or these girls got too damn drunk to remember telling them that they could fuck her.
“she’s such a whore. i’d die to even get looked at by them.”
“who cares if they r8ped them or not? at least you’re getting fucked by the five hottest guys in school. any girl would kill for an opportunity like that.”
“if the rumors are true, can they r8p me next? i’ve been dying just to get yeonjun to even talk to me…”
see! it’s really not serious. these are baseless rumors that are just a joke to people. they’re not called the grape team because they actually r8p girls, they’re called the grape team because it’s an inside joke between the school, duh! and plus, they don’t seem to mind it. in fact, whenever anybody calls them that to their face they just laugh and smile. it clearly doesn’t bother them so it’s obviously all rumors.
you’d be lying if you said they weren’t cute. oh they were. but weather or not you thought the rumors were true, you don’t care enough to go after these boys. it’s weird to be accused by multiple people in the first place, you don’t really want tied up in all that. you had basically just joined the cheer team. you had saw them a few times over your cheer camp during practices and even in the hallway before you joined, but never interacted with them. besides staring at them thinking about how big it is, or besides having a project with a few of them! but hey, everybody has thought about it at least once, including the guys in the school.
usually every friday you’d cheer, hype up the audience, you know. and on the big game days, they always threw a huge party to celebrate. they weren’t a frat but shit that’s what it seemed like a lot of the time. practically the whole school goes. there was a rumor once that a teacher went. did she get railed too? you had never been to one because until this year, you hadn’t been that involved with your peers. but everybody goes, and it’d be a nice way to fit in more, no? interact with your cheer team and get even closer and connect with the people you’re cheering for, the football team! plus, all your friends were badgering you to go, so you basically had to.
it was the end of a huge game that the team had just won and you’re chatting it up with your cheer team. people slowly start to leave as time goes on and there’s less and less of you there. it’s silent for a few seconds after all the laughing and excitement until you hear a voice behind you.
“you’re going, right?”
you turn around to see soobin, a member of said grape squad talking to you for the first time ever. you were a little confused so you spoke up.
“uh, going where?”
“the party tomorrow night?”
you mentally slapped yourself in the face. duh it was about the party. but why’s he asking you to your face? anybody can go. but you brush it off. it’s probably because you never go but now since you’re on the team it’s kind of expected.
“yeah, uhm, i planned on being there.”
“great. hope to see you there then.”
he gave you a light smile and then that was it. he just walked away. it felt off to you, something about his demeanor, but whatever. probably just because of how tall he is, yeesh, how does one even get that tall, it was kind of scary, especially considering the ‘rumors’……but you head home and for some reason laying in bed, you couldn’t fall asleep. It’s usually not hard after a long game..but after tossing and turning in your bed for what felt like hours, you finally fell asleep getting ready for a long day tomorrow.
—-
“she’s coming right?”
“she said she would.”
“she’s gotta be the prettiest one we’re ever gonna fuck.”
“she’s a sweet girl on the outside but probably a sick fuck on the inside. shit, by the end, i’m sure she’ll love it. they all end up wet and slutty by the end of it all.”
if we’re being honest, you would have forgotten about the party and skipped it if your friend hadn’t literally came to your house to force you awake and get each other ready.
“what are you wearing?”
your friend asked. she was wearing a crop top with a short ass skirt just barely about to show her panties.
“certainly not what you’re wearing. with that outfit you’ll be the next victim of the grape team.”
you joke with her. she just scoffs before speaking up.
“any girl would be lucky to get fucked by them let alone looked at by them weather they liked it or not. so you can go ahead and sign me up!”
she said some crazy shit sometimes. no way she meant it…
“i’m just gonna wear a tight fitted top and some ripped jeans, i have nobody to impress and i’m not staying long.”
she just rolled her eyes. but hey, baby steps. this was your first party after all. it’d be one to remember.
“you don’t think there’s gonna be another rumor after this party?”
you asked. just curiosity makes you think. plus if you’re going to a party then why wouldn’t you talk about the people throwing it?
“after every big game there’s a new rumor. it’s obviously going to happen again. if only they could make that rumor a reality for me. tch, such a disappointment..”
you roll your eyes, she said dumb things no matter how fucked up they were. you didn’t agree with them but what can you do.
“we’ll see what happens when we get there..”
she winks.
“but we should head out now. we don’t wanna get there super late when everybody’s drunk and you can’t even speak to someone without getting thrown up on.”
walking into the party was loud as fuck. how had this place not gotten a noise complaint yet…? the amount of alcohol on the table and who knows what being smoked and the party quite literally had just started is crazy. drinking wasn’t your thing. you weren’t twenty-one and most of these people weren’t either but who gives a shit it’s a party. your friend immediately ran over to a guy she saw that she thought was good looking and then you didn’t know where to go. sit on the couch? go near the table full of drinks? no clue. you felt so out of place. ew. you spot some of your cheer team so you push through some people to get to them, smoke blowing on your face and you practically coughing your lungs out certainly was not fun. once you finally reached them you say hi and hug a few people and start talking.
“wow, i’m surprised you actually came. have you had a drink yet?”
you roll your eyes.
“no i have not, and no i don’t plan on it. i’m the one who drove here after all…”
“drunk driving is totallyyyyyy the trend now. literally everyone you’ve ever talked to has probably done it at least once. get some hunky firefighter to save you after you crash your car and have to strip you clean to treat your burns. maybe he’ll fuck you just in the right spot and wake you up. who needs cpr anymore when you have a huge dick right in front of your face?”
what a wild take. but that’s what most people at your school had. wild ass takes. but weather you disagree or not the only thing you can do is just laugh it off or be honest and give a disgusted face. after about 10 minutes of talking you feel a big ass hand lay on your shoulder for a second before lifting off. you turn around and it’s kai. it was crazy to think he was wrapped up in this grape squad shit. he seems as sweet as pie, a friendly giant you guess…
“i’m glad to see you decided to come! if i’m being honest i had doubts..”
you rub the back of your neck and do a light laugh.
“i’ve heard that one a lot tonight..”
you see him look back and notice the rest of their little squad standing by a small table with a few other people from the football team and just around school. he turns his head back around to you and smiles.
“hey, sorry we weren’t proper party hosts and welcomed you in. especially me, this is my house after all…but how about you come over there and we’ll talk a little. we know everyone on the cheer team pretty well except for you after all.”
eh, what could the harm be. it was only a few steps from where you were originally at anyways. you say bye to the people you were speaking with for a little and walk over to the rest of his little frat. the conversation the guys over here were having were mainly about girls and drugs. what a topic starter.
“so, what made you decide to join the cheer team?”
someone speaks up. you couldn’t see him too well despite the height until he pokes his head from behind one of his teammates. it was beomgyu. the troublemaker of the school. the class clown. he was probably the one person in the group that people didn’t like as much.
“uh, i don’t know. just needed something to do other than work i guess.”
they give a slight nod before they go back to their random conversation. you contemplate walking away. you were having funner with the people you actually knew after all.
“so, would you like me to grab you a drink? sorry i didn’t ask before. we have vodka shots and a bunch of other alcoholic stuff if you’d like.”
kai spoke up. trying to live up to what he said before and be an amazing party host. but just because it’s a party doesn’t mean you have to do illegal shit. that’s another thing people keep asking you about.
“sorry, i don’t drink. plus i drove here myself so tonight is not the night that i wanna try, aha.”
it’s much easier to mask the taste of a drug in alcohol than in something like water or juice…but you didn’t know that. all you knew was that this party was not fun to you at all and that it sure was a new experience but now that you’ve experienced it for a few minutes, you’re ready to go home. he tried to offer you something else to drink but you just weren’t really down for it right now. you’re sure you would be soon though. all this second hand smoke blowing down into your lungs was making your throat dryer and itchier by the second. but there was one thing you needed, a bathroom. all this water on the table from spilt drinks and all the gulping of water and the faucets turning on were not helping you hold it. you were hoping you wouldn’t have to ask for anything and have as little interaction with people you didn’t know as possible but you certainly weren’t gonna piss your pants in front of basically the whole school. they would probably be too drunk to remember, but still.
“uh kai, where’s your bathroom?”
he smiles. people can be bubbly and happy sure, but man he seemed way too happy to be telling you where the bathroom is.
“upstairs in my room! second room on the right.”
you thank him before heading off. it was going pretty decent so far. no bad interactions, no tripping on your face, the only thing that was bad was that you were bored..but hey! once your friend quits kissing up on guys then you’ll have a little bit more fun…you walk up kais steps and look down the hallway. “second room on the right…” you mumble to yourself damn this hallway was long. he was for sure a rich kid but you could tell that from the outside of his house. then again, he’s blonde, tall, plays football, and every girl wants to fuck him. it’d be a surprise if he wasn’t rich. you finally find the room and surprise surprise, the size of his bed is damn near bigger than your whole bedroom size. you see a door in the corner of the room and assume it leads to the bathroom. you lock it and do your business before washing your hands and then drying them off. you open your phone to check the time. “already twelve? sheesh…” you check your notifications too. a few missed texts but eh, you could check them later. you unlock the bathroom door and there you see the whole grape squad standing in kais room. did they have to use the bathroom too? this rich ass house, they must have at least three bathrooms and you couldn’t have been in there for too long…
“you really don’t drink?”
taehyun speaks up. the quiet charming one that didn’t even have to try to get girls to look at him. one stare and he had them like jelly in the palm of his hand.
“uh, no…not my thing i’m still not twenty-one and once again, i did drive here and i don’t wanna wreck my car. with my college debt i won’t get a new one until i’m at least thirty…”
you mumbled that last part. but uh, you didn’t really see what drinking had to do with any of this but you didn’t wanna just stand and have a silent staring contest so you just kind of scoot by going for the door before a hand grabs your wrist. yeonjun.
“if you would just be bad for once in your life, maybe you’d be able to enjoy this just a little. maybe even forget about it if you were fucked up enough and fucked out enough, but i guess now we’ll never know.”
you stilled, trying to comprehend the words he had just said before he starts pushing you onto the bed. it’s pretty evident on what’s happening so you of course go to scream but he quickly palms your mouth. he finally presses you to the bed and allows everybody to figure out what position they’d like to take. i mean come on, nobody stood a chance against five tall ass guys who play football. you would’ve been doomed even if you were a guy yourself. even if you had just been going against one of them you wouldn’t have escaped this fate. you start trying to kick your legs from underneath him before somebody pushes them down into the bed.
“soobin can’t go first this time. everytime he’s gone first or second his dick is too big and they don’t even feel the slightest bit of pleasure after and it ruins it for everybody….”
you squeeze your eyes shut, this must be a dream right? there’s no way this is real. sure you thought the rumors had to have some truth but even if they were completely true (which now you know, clearly they are) you wouldn’t have ever expected them to go after you. but i guess it makes sense. new cheerleader just trying to fit in and wants more friends, so what does she do? says she’s another victim of the grape squad to gain some popularity and a few new connections. it would make sense. or would you be one of the ones who didn’t tell anybody? eh, didn’t matter right now. all that matters is that they get their dick wet and have a new little image to imagine every time they need to get off.
“just hold her mouth shut and hold her legs down so i can fuck her without having to deal with her kicking me in the dick or making me have to stop right when i’m about to orgasm because somebody heard her.”
from the way he was speaking, you could guess yeonjun was the leader of this shit. soobin was the leader on the football team but this wasn’t football. this was ‘how many girls can we r8p before we graduate??!’ and it was pretty clear that yeonjun led that shit. besides taehyun, the guy was charming as fuck. seemed like prince charming. you feel the bed dip right where your head was. you open your eyes to see a beomgyu laying on his stomach, face right above yours with a sick smile on his face. yeonjun removes his hands from your mouth before beomgyu quickly replaces the empty space with his hands. He places his chin on your forehead and then gives an almost taunting kiss to it. his hands were basically holding your head still, so you couldn’t really turn away from it. yeonjun then sits up on his knees on the side of your hips and puts all his body weight on your stomach while pushing your wrists to your chest.
“this will be fun. we’ve never not drugged a girl out before fucking her for hours like this. i’m curious to see how it’ll go.”
he says all this with a smile on his face while looking you dead in the eyes. you hadn’t noticed but kai had left the room. probably to attend to the party and not seem suspicious. most people were drunk but there’s always a few sober people and it’s been years that they’ve been at this, they don’t wanna blow their cover now. you also notice that taehyun is leaning in a chair against the wall. his pants are unzipped, he was probably gonna beat to this shit, sick bastard. and then obviously by process of elimination, soobin was holding your legs down, and strong as fuck at that. you couldn’t even move it the slightest inch. you feel his chin move on your forehead as he speaks up.
“the fun begins now. are you ready?”
he loosened his hands jussstttt a little so he could let you shake your head no before tightening them back up. you felt yeonjuns finger prodding with the buttons on your jeans and feel your pants slightly loosening as he unzips them. what makes this all the more worse is you can’t even lift your fucking head to see what he’s doing.
“i haven’t even done anything yet and you’re already crying. don’t worry, you’ll be crying a hell of a lot more by the end of the night.”
he hadn’t even bothered to take ur shirt off. hadn’t even bothered to prep you, nothing. you couldn’t lift ur head but u could see him sitting above you and saw that sly ass look on his face as he quickly forced it in. didn’t take his time at all, as if he wanted it to be as painful as possible. you quickly squeeze your eyes shut and start trying to kick your legs as hard as you can, start trying to shake your head free, try your hardest to move your wrists away but nothing works. beomgyus thumb starts wiping at the tears falling onto his hand and you hear a snicker come from him. yeonjun goes down to prep you (a little too late so not really prep..”) starts rubbing your clit in circles and almost is in shock that you or your body isn’t enjoying this at all.
“fuck you’re dry as hell. stubborn, huh? let me tell you a secret,”
he leans in to your ear scarily close,
“i’d suggest you start to enjoy it or you’re in for one hell of a night. seven hours at the minimum sounds terrible if you’re not enjoying it, no?”
he says all this shit while still ramming into you, still trying to get u damp but his efforts are in vain. your friend would notice though. she’d wonder where her ride went and they’d say you were last seen with them. she’d go up the stairs looking for you and find out what was going on. she’d get help, right? or would they easily lie their way out of it. would they let you go to avoid suspicion? no. they’re all cocky fucks who think they’re the hottest best people in the school, they’re not gonna let their ego fold that easily. they won’t get caught that—
“i can usually go longer but you are tight as fuck, you a virgin?”
you realized he finished. you felt his dick getting pulled out as painful and rough as it was forced in you. you felt something wet dripping down your thighs and you knew it wasn’t from you. it was his cum dripping down. your eyes were still squeezed shut, not wanting any of them to see your teary eyes. you were so embarrassed, so violated. and even worse, you didn’t want him to know you were a virgin. that this night was the night you’d always remember as your first time..
“how was it?”
“it was amazing. might need round two later. this is so much better than just drugging them up. so much funner, so much tighter, so much squirmier.”
“you can say that again, she almost bit my hand off..”
it was so eerie to hear them talking like this as if you weren’t even here listening to them.
“here i’m gonna go next. you take her mouth, i’ll take her ass.”
you had never been fucked in general since five fucking seconds ago, but in your ass? fuck no. and when you heard him say “take her mouth” you knew exactly what he meant and you just wanted out of this room. beomgyu was always the sly one. the funny one. the one half of the school loved and half of the school was annoyed as fuck by and hated. clearly he liked jokes but taking your ass was a pretty fucking sick one. they tell soobin to let go of your legs and you immediately start kicking. yeonjun flips you on your stomach while beomgyu lets go of your mouth. you hadn’t even gotten the chance to scream, your face immediately getting slammed into the sweaty mattress. beomgyu swiftly grabs your wrists, now uncomfortably forced behind your back in one hand and yeonjun is sitting up in front of your face on his knees with his dick still out of his pants. he forces your head up by grabbing a fist full of your hair. you wanted to scream immediately but the threatening look on his face made you not wanna test him. but also you knew as soon as you opened your mouth what would happen. he’d shove it in there without a care in the world just like he did your pussy. he stares into your eyes for a good second before speaking up.
“oh look at all those tears. you’ll be crying a lot more when ur choking on my dick. open up.”
you tried forcing your head to look the other way but he only squeezed your hair even tighter. he holds his dick in one hand and starts trying to force it through your tightly squeezed lips. as if almost on cue beomgyu forces his dick in you pretty little ass. slower than when yeonjun fucked you, but still too fast for your liking. that made you open your mouth to scream in pain, but it was quickly muffled by his dick. beomgyu was showing you some sort of mercy, but only because he needed to get used to how fucking tight you were and how much your ass was pulling him in. you realized that your feet were still free so you start kicking at his back trying to squirm free. ultimately, that made your head move a little further down yeonjuns dick and you gagged so fucking hard, you thought you would throw up. he quickly pulled the air through his teeth on that one holding in a grunt.
“i love to feel a struggle it only makes me even harder. go ahead and bruise up my back with your kicks, i love it so—fuck-much”
so they didn’t just forget to hold your legs down but it was for beomgyus sick pleasure too. it was futile anyways. it only got him off more and even if you had heels on and stuck the heel through his back he’d only keep thrusting even harder into you.
“you better hold your mouth open as wide as you can, if you fucking bite my dick i swear to god it’s over for you”
you never heard of any missing people or dead people at your school from the grape team or just in general but you didn’t know what he meant and you didn’t wanna take any chances. he quickly grips your hair even harder and pushes it as far back as he can. feeling your throat tighten and gag and cough up on his dick, he couldn’t help but groan. it hurt so so bad. feeling your ass being pounded and feeling like you’re about to throw up all over his bed from the amount of gagging you’re doing. you don’t even wanna know what they’d do or say if you threw up. you try to squirm your wrists free, try to kick even harder but beomgyu only squeezes your wrists tighter, you only feel his cock twitch more at the kicking, and when you try to turn your head you only feel your scalp burning more and as if he’s about to rip out a huge chunk of your hair. you feel him shoot his cum down your throat and you immediately start trying to spit it out while his dick is still in your mouth. you can’t even focus on that though because you still have this sadistic fuck ramming into you and grabbing ur ass every few seconds, gripping his nails into it.
“don’t waste it all. you know it’s an honor that we’re even doing this to you. show us some respect.”
respect? an honor? was he joking? he takes his dick out of ur mouth before he slams your face right into the mattress. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, couldn’t struggle because your hair was still in a tight grip, couldn’t do anything but hope he let you go before you suffocated. you feel beomgyu pause before groaning loudly and finally pulling out. he did it slowly, almost teasingly, but he did it. and when he did yeonjun finally let you breathe. the only thing you could do was gasp for air and let out a few sobs. you couldn’t even scream for help you were so out of breath.
“please—stop-”
you were about to sob out loud. you were barely even able to get those two words out. tripping over your words. snot running down your nose and tears staining your face. no sense of privacy besides the fact that they still hadn’t taken off your shirt and your jeans were stuck just above your knees. even though nobody was holding your legs down it still made it difficult. you wrists still in beomgyus tight grip.
“does it really matter if she screams? everybody’s probably blackout drunk by now.”
taehyun speaks up. it’s the first thing he’s said since this whole ordeal started. he’s just been sitting in the corner getting off to this fucked up shit. you could hear his small groans and curses every once in a while but it’s hard to focus on so many things at once in a situation like this. but what if he was right? what if you screamed and nobody heard it? what if you screamed and somebody heard but they just didn’t care..
“the party is loud as hell. unless she screams fucking crazy nobody should hear.”
you wanted to scream but you also didn’t want to give them what they wanted. they wanted to hear you scream. you’d just been sobbing and saying small ows under the palm of beomgyus hand earlier. you hadn’t had any moans of pleasure at all. but they didn’t care, they were here for themselves, not you. yeonjun grabbed your chin and forced you to kiss him. you had no hands to push him away and he held your head perfectly still. he finally leaned away after what felt like forever even though it was probably only ten seconds.
“i’m gonna go down with kai, i’ll be back before the fun part.”
the fun part…? you didn’t wanna know. that evil smirk on yeonjuns face and the uncomfortable silence in the room spoke volumes though. you hear the door open and shut. you feel beomgyu let go of your wrists and you immediately sit up. at the end of the bed you just see three faces staring, piercing right into your eyes. you immediately go to pulling up your jeans and your panties before two strong hands grip both of your wrists. you slowly look up only to see taehyun staring intensely at you. as if daring you to move. he quickly pushes your chest down and you start yelling at him to get off of you.
“get off of me you asshole!”
you were pulling his hair and smacking him and you could tell he was getting frustrated. he rolls the front of your shirt up trying to get a view of your chest. finally starting to strip you clean of everything.
“does he have—shitthisfuckingbitch— scissors somewhere?”
he finally got sick of your antics and landed a clean slap on your face and you finally let go of his hair. you go to scream and he only slaps you again. he stared at your now red face and looked at you dead in your face. he was telling you to go ahead and do something else using his eyes. you didn’t wanna know how else he’d hurt you. someone finally hands him scissors and you try to push yourself up before he can cut your shirt. he puts one hand on your waist to hold you in place and one hand presses the tip of the scissors right into your collarbone.
“if you move you’ll get cut and it won’t be my fault, so i’d suggest you quit being so whiney and just be an obedient fucking whore.”
you still quickly. taehyun had to be the scariest to you. he didn’t speak much he just went straight in and tried to avoid as much talking as he could. he just wanted to get what he took you for and go on with his day. he cut your shirt off and then he goes to cut your bra off, but he quickly realizes he can’t because it’s a wired bra and he couldn’t cut through it. he puts the scissors to the side and sits up on top of you.
“take your bra off.”
you’re confused at what he just said and just lay there trying to cover up your chest.
“..what…?”
“sit up and take your bra off.”
his stare was going to be the death of you. you slowly sat up but you just looked down at your bare legs with tears streaming down your face. it was humiliating enough for him to cut up your shirt but to make you take your own bra off to get r8ped by him? it would’ve been less embarrassing if he did it himself.
“i said take it off. i’m not going to do it for you. i could always do more than a slap. and the scissors are right here.”
your start sniffling and choking on your sobs from trying not to sob outloud and give them the satisfaction. in the corner of your eyes you can see soobin getting even harder (if that was even possible) and beomgyu standing there about to unzip his pants again and start jacking off right there.
“don’t make me tell you again.”
you start un-clipping your bra as slow as you can. you slowly take the straps off your arms and slowly let the bra drop to your thighs. the only bit of coverage that you had now. he quickly throws it to the floor and pushes you back down. he starts pinching your nipples and swirling his tongue around them. you try pushing his head away but he just bites your nipple causing you to yelp. he moves away and towers over you once again. you see his hand start to move lower and he quickly starts fingering you with two fingers. you quickly go from hugging your chest to pushing against his and yelling at him to stop.
“damn you’re still barely wet? at least it’s getting there. i really don’t even need to do this. yeonjun already fucked you here so it’s ready for me but i’m choosing to be nice. do you think i’m nice?”
you quickly shake your head no and he just scoffs with a smirk. you finally decide to scream for help and all he does is take the fingers that were fucking you and forces them in your mouth and down your throat. he starts moving them around and it causes you to gag over and over.
“should i make you throw up? make you clean up the mess with your tongue while i fuck your ass?”
you only gag more around his fingers with tears spewing out your eyes before he finally pulls them out and you have a coughing fit. too busy coughing and wiping your face, you failed to notice that he already had his dick out and was rubbing the tip against your entrance. finally slightly wet, but still not wet enough where it would go in smoothly.
“wait wait wait! please don’t..!”
he just laughs.
“what? you don’t want me to?”
you mumble some no’s just barely audible to him.
“ok then, you can do it.”
confused, he grabs your hips with both hands and drags your body all the way onto his dick. you quickly wince at the feeling of being so full and once again go to trying to push him off of you. the only thing he does is grab your neck with his hand and start putting pressure and squeezing, successfully blocking your air flow. you start scratching at his arms and he just throws his head back while still thrusting into you. the sweat causing his hair to stick to his face. you go to kick at him but realize that when you flail your legs more into different positions that the feeling of him only gets worse so you just keep your legs still. however, you were still scratching at his arms, afraid you were gonna pass out and then they’d do who knows what else to you. he started to squeeze tighter and you finally started fearing for your life. trying to open your mouth to beg him to stop but no words came out.
“quit —shit-fighting me and i’ll let u-fuck!—i’ll let you breathe.”
not even having a second thought you let your hands drop to your sides and he finally lets go. you just turn your head to the side, trying to force it into the pillow to silently cry as he finishes up. he grabs your chin, and you flinch thinking he’s about to choke you again, but he just turns your chin to face him and he speaks up.
“i want you to look me in the eyes as i finish or i’m gonna make sure this whole thing for you lasts way longer than planned.”
of course he was probably lying but you didn’t want to take the chance. you hear the door open while he continues to look you in the eyes and thrust into you but you can’t even check to see who came in because you didn’t want to look away. you didn’t wanna take any chances. but once you see his eyes squeeze shut and him throw his face forward and feel the same dripping sensation out of your pussy that you’ve felt the whole night, you know he’s done. he slowly pulls out just to tease you before shaking a bit of his cum onto your legs and on your stomach before moving over. it was kai who had come back to the room, staring at you in awe.
“she’s still awake? and i missed all the fun?”
taehyun scoffs at him.
“the no drugs is so much better than what we’ve ever done before. come get a taste for yourself.”
he was speaking as if you were some meal waiting to get eaten. it was gross. it was sickening that nobody there probably even saw you as a human. kai always was and seemed to be the nicest out of them all. he was the most approachable, the most helpful, the easiest one to talk to and do projects with besides soobin. it was weird to see him staring over you with this hungered look on his eyes but he still had this oh so soft smile on his face. it made you conflicted and made you genuinely upset. hurting kai, although he was never close to you, just seemed so much more terrible than if you were to hurt taehyun. he slowly starts to crawl on top of you, one hand on his pant zipper and the other caging you in.
“you look stunning right now. even with your tears. i would love to see your pretty smile, i’ve seen it at school. oh to see you smile in this state. i think i’d die..”
he takes his thumb and wipes your tears. you grab his wrist with one hand and looked him in the eyes, begging him with your eyes to stop. but he only smiled and pulled your hand to his face, closing his eyes. it was as if he was trying to make this situation seem like a consensual thing between the two of you. he pushed you down to your back and layed completely on top of you while still holding your one wrist to the side. he was ten folds heavier than you so it made it kind of difficult to breathe. he pressed his face into the crook of your neck and just laid there for a little, just letting you hear him breathing down your neck. you finally feel his arm move to mess with his pant zipper and you start to try to move away from him but he just glides the back of his hand across your face with one hand, now looking you in the eyes, and taking his dick out his pants with the other. you could feel his tip align to your entrance and you finally gather the strength to speak. although it’s hard considering all his weight is pressing down on you.
“kai, please don—”
he just presses down even more on you and he kisses you. but not just for a second, he keeps kissing you to keep your mouth shut. whenever you moved your head to the side he moved his head with you. he was not breaking from the kiss anytime soon. as he was doing this you felt his dick finally push in. your eyes widened and your mouth opened with a gasp which he quickly took advantage of by pushing his tongue in your mouth. no matter how many times you’d experienced getting fucked tonight, it got no easier. no less painful. you finally had gotten a little ‘slicker’ down there too. the way kai was handling this just made your body feel so conflicted. but don’t get it confused, you still wanted him off of you. still wanted him out of you. he’s making slow movements in you, not really thrusting, but he’s still getting into it, just slowly. you start trying to hit his back and trying to push his face away but he only moved his other arm and grabbed your arms one at a time and forced them to stay locked around his neck. if anybody were to walk in and see you in this position, they wouldn’t even know that you didn’t want it. they would never know that he was r8ping you. it would just look like a loving couple having sex. every so often he’d let go of the kiss to breathe for 5 seconds before going back in. he uses one of his legs to move one of your legs so that he could feel you better. this was the only time tonight you felt good and you hated it. it was only his leg holding your leg down and you still could barely move it away and kick. you start trying to squirm even more as it feels better and better. he pulls away from the kiss again and pushes his forehead against yours breathing heavily.
“does it feel good finally? i can tell. yeonjun said you were dry but look how wet you are right now. did you just need a little more love? were they mean?”
you just started tearing up and crying more, your arms stuck around his neck and him drawing out these slow movements in you.
“please i just wanna —ow —go home, nobody will believe me anyways just—agh- let me go.”
you were pleading with him. he was probably the most sane person here, the safest person here to try to reason with.
“but i just—aghshitshit— love this, love you so much..i love how you feel, i love how you look,”
he leans in close to your ear and whispers to you.
“after tonight, we should keep talking, yeah? maybe date, maybe just let me keep fucking you like this. i’ve never enjoyed one of these nights more than this..”
more? of this? even if it was just him fuck no. you just shake your head no but he just presses a kiss into you again. your legs start to shake a little and you can feel him smile against your lips. he speeds up a little more and you hear him groan. you feel the vibration of his groan spread through your chest and through your lips before the same warm feeling in your pussy comes back. the same substance coming out. you felt disgusting. you felt like some prostitute cum dump off of the street. this was absolutely humiliating. he just lays their still for a few more seconds, leaving his dick in you, holding the kiss between the two of you before he finally allows you to breathe and finally pulls out. how long has it been? how much longer would they keep going? how much longer until they got bored of you and let you go home? you didn’t know. you wanted nothing more than to hug your blanket and just go to sleep and forget this all happened. but this was a night to remember for all of them and for you. he finally climbs off of you and sits at the edge of the bed swaying his feet a little like a giggly child.
“one more until we get to the fun part. soobin!”
beomgyu yelled that across the room. he sounded so happy and you hated it. you had forgotten there were five of them, and now you knew even after soobin would go, there was apparently more to go on. you just wanted to close your eyes and think about anything else, imagine anything else, but you knew they wouldn’t let you. kai stands up and comes to the side of the bed and stands you up onto the floor. good thing he was holding you up because if he wasn’t you probably would have collapsed to the ground. soobin, dick already out crawls onto the bed and lays on his back and kai sets you right in front of his dick. hard as a rock sticking straight up in the air.
“you’re gonna ride him.”
you pause and just sit there. no you weren’t. you—no. just no! but kai lifts you up by your shoulders and hovers your pussy right over soobins dick and slowly lowers you onto it. how do you even get out of this one? they’re not gonna let you lift yourself off of him, hitting him will do nothing, and you literally can’t kick your legs. even if you could, it wouldn’t do anything. you just squeeze your eyes shut before kai quickly lets go and you quickly put both of your arms on soobins chest but it’s too late and he’s already balls deep in you. you swear you can feel his imprint in your stomach and he clearly sees it too because he reaches his hand out to touch your stomach and feel. soobin was quiet. he didn’t say much in class but he always came across nice. helped when he could, smiled almost always, very calm, just overall not bad to be around. in a situation like this you almost wish he’d say something.
“have you ever rode before? or is it just mine you stay still for..”
he mumbled the last part, but you still heard him. you refused to answer, you didn’t want to give any of them a hint that this was your first time.
“i’ll help you, help me.”
you didn’t know what he meant but he grabbed both sides of your hip and easily lifts you up and down on his dick. it was as if you were his own personal alive little flesh light. it was easy for him too, didn’t give him any added difficulty. his chest just gets wetter and wetter, your tears falling like a waterfall onto it. his abs glistening despite the dark room. you tried to push his hands away and lift yourself up off of him but you were only helping him more and his hands only dug into your hips even more. he wasn’t going to let you just pull yourself off him so you easily.
“you’re taking me so—shit—so so so well.”
“you feel so—so good-ahh—so good around me baby—ah fuck-”
he was clearly hungry because even after you felt him cum, he still kept going, his balls smacking against your ass, him going from fast to slow. he finally stops completely, now just letting you sit there and squirm on his dick, getting him off more and more. you started doing it unintentionally, it was just so uncomfortable but clearly not for him, you could hear his soft groans. he moves one hand from your hip to your ass and squeezes which causes you to jump up on his dick and you could feel it pulse in you. he just starts to rub it more before he slowly moves towards your clit. he grabs some slick from it which causes you to shiver, making him curse under you. his fingers now coated, he moves to your pretty pink asshole. he circles his finger around it a little before pushing a finger inside abruptly which caused you to leans forward and jump up before sliding back down onto his dick. you could feel his dick twitch so much in you and it just made your body even more uncomfortable that it caused it to jump up again. you started shaking a little so your body naturally starts riding his dick a little, no matter how much you tried to hold yourself down. soobin starts spewing nonsense before he finally cums again in you. somebody, kai you soon see, lifts you up off of soobin and pulls you into his lap as he holds onto your tummy.
“i saw all that. you couldn’t have been that wet when it was my turn?”
you only just now noticed that yeonjun was in the room. guess over the tears, adrenaline and pain, you hadn’t noticed he came in.
“you all got your turn, all got what you wanted-”
you pause to sniffle and choke on a sob,
“just let me go now please.”
they were silently laughing at you, you could tell. there was nothing funny about any of this. why keep you here any longer if they all got a piece? to torture you?
“it’s only two in the morning sweetheart, we still have until at least seven in the morning. so at least four more hours.”
kai presses his chin in the crook of your neck. you felt sick to your stomach. at least four more hours…maybe letting yourself throw up on their dicks wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.
“and you know what’s next?”
you didn’t look up, but you knew it was yeonjun speaking by the cocky ass tone. you could almost hear the smirk he definitely had on his face through his voice.
“an actual gangbang. all five of us on you, in you, touching you, at the same time.”
now you wish you had taken the alcohol. you wish you would’ve just broken the law for once. risked getting in a wreck and getting a dui, risked waking up delirious and sick. you wished every time they suffocated, every time that they choked you that you would’ve just passed out, but they weren’t going to let you take the easy way out. five hours of every hole getting stretched, your dignity, every sliver of confidence that you ever had removed in a single night.
“you’re just gonna be just another jealous little whore trying to ruin all of our careers with a stupid rumor. how mean of you, we’d never do such a terrible thing, right? it’s impossible, crazy even.”
“right?”
966 notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 1 year ago
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ೀ⋆OCT 31ST LEGALLY BLONDE ━━ seishiro nagi + coercion !
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. seishiro nagi + coercion. there’s no way someone broke up with nagi because he’s too blonde!? poor baby, maybe you could provide a little emotional support…(5.5K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, strangers to lovers (?), teaching assistant/student relationship, dom/sub dynamics, some switching, reader is lifted up by nagi, coercion, dubcon, handjobs, virginity loss, cherry chasing, oral fixation, mind break, praise kink, creampies, soft sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, TA!reader, elle woods!nagi.
୨୧ — director’s note. happy halloween my loves! i hope you enjoy the final kinktober fic! its been super fun writing and editing for you all. stay tuned for the bonus in the coming weeks <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
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this law school thing wasn’t all what it cracked up to be. 
after the love of his life, reo mikage, had broken up with him for someone smarter, blander and richer than him — nagi had been blessed with the genius idea of following his ex all the way to one of the top law schools in the world. the plan was practically fool proof, the guys at his sorority worked hard to help seishiro study — pulling all nighters for practice tests and rewarding him with naps every time he had gotten a question right. 
rin itoshi had even convinced his parents to reach out to a hollywood director so that they could film nagi’s audition tape. it obviously featured isagi and bachira too. nagi had even worn his best designer swim trunks to impress the board of admissions. they’d all been super supportive of the light haired male in his endeavours and were there when he passed his LSAT exam
with all of this combined, he had managed to get in in — if that wasn’t enough for reo, then what was?
the answer? nothing.
reo still wanted that bland, basic bitch his family was marrying him off to. she was sensible, she was rich and seishiro quickly realised that he had only ever been a bit of ditzy fun to reo — a dumb blonde to stick his dick into whenever the time felt right. eye candy and nothing more. balancing his shattering hard with the complexities of law school had been tough for the white haired male and everything seemed to be going wrong. no one would study with him, reo wouldn’t even look at him and his friends back home were busy with the wedding plans nagi so desperately wished he had. 
however, that’s when you came along. 
after having the epiphany that he didn’t need reo to succeed — nagi knuckles down and studied hard for the law firm internship being offered amongst his cohort. he was relieved to have you as a teaching assistant in the process, not only were you absolutely gorgeous but you were compassionate and empathetic. you were smart, eloquent and everything seishiro wished he could be for his ex.
perhaps that’s what drew him to you, why he followed your every word like a puppy drooling after a treat. you’d been kind to nagi for the entire semester, from helping him out with studying for the internship right down to today, where he would be taking on his very first case in a court of law. it should have been easy, the facts were simple too. the client and fellow fraternity brother  (shidou ryousei) was accused of and arrested for the murder of his wife… but something about the events weren’t seeming to add up. nagi couldn’t come up with an alibi either. 
it was as if the words; the reasonings, the justification for shidou’s freedom were right in front of grey-scale eyes, only scrambled up like morse code. “how about we take a break?” as if you were a vision from his dreams or an angel from up above, you appear behind nagi’s tall frame as he slumps defeatedly against the hotel room desk — your hands fixing themselves to his broad shoulders for a massage. “you’ve been at this all night, seishiro.”
the law student swears your touch could heal all human ailments, the warmth of your palms seeping into the tense parts of his muscles like a cell performing diffusion — relaxation forming a comfortable fog over his brain. “i know shidou didn’t do it,” nagi defends with a grumpy pout, leaning back into you so that his head rests lazily against your stomach. “he told me… he said he was getting liposuction.” 
“we’ll need evidence of that,” you note, jerking your head to the side so that nagi can write it down. this entire time you’d been such a good mentor. “good boy.” something clicks in the light-haired male’s brain, a crackle of electricity shooting down his spine at your praise — swirling around in his guts as if to activate arousal.  “run me through the witness statements again.” there’s a sensual lilt to the tone of your voice and your touch cascades from his shoulders up to his neck like a backwards flowing waterfall.
seishiro isn’t sure if he’s making things up or reading the signs correctly — but he knows that there’s some kind of tension bubbling in the air. particles that resemble an aphrodisiac using kinetic energy to collide together, painting the room with lustful colours. “shidou’s step daughter says she heard a gunshot around 2:15pm after leaving the shower, walkin’ downstairs only to find shidou hangin’ over his wife’s body — covered in blood. ugh, this is too much hassle. this doesn’t make any sense!” he tosses an annoyed sigh into quietness of the room, moaning in surprise when you cup the base of nagi’s neck to pull his head up to face you and your eyes meet.
“you need a break seishiro, we can come back to this later,” you hum, the vibrations of your voice laced with sex appeal. as he swallows thickly, the law student’s Adam’s apple bobs under the pressure of your fairy-light grip on his throat — anticipating more from you. at this point, you’re half bent over him as he leans back in the chair, pink tongue slowly darting out to cover your lips in a spit shine. “how about it?” 
this feels so wrong. nagi’s cock stirring beneath his slacks at how good and kind you’re acting towards him. no one has ever gotten him this hot before — no one aside from reo. and you were still his teacher, by technicality, it would be wrong for nagi to even consider sucking your tongue down his throat. and yet, he can’t find it in himself to stop the temperature from rising between you, for falling into your dangerously salacious trap. 
“y-yeah,” he breathes deep when you squeeze his throat a little to test the waters. “i could do with a break.” 
“me too,” you gasp all too agreeably, bending the rest of the way down to capture seishiro’s lips in a searingly hot kiss. just as he wished you pry his mouth open with the tip of your curious tongue — pushing through his plush lips and curling around his own pink appendage. the lip lock is passionate, ravenous despite the mess and spit that you exchange. he chases your lips until he can’t breathe, sloppily accepting anything you give him, letting you lead where he can’t. 
he’s never done this before, not like this, not without reo. but in this moment, the silver-blonde doesn’t think he could ever go back to making out with his ex. not now that you’re the one kissing him. 
“i-i've never done any of this before.” the blonde gulps, swallowing down the copious amount of spit that builds on the palette of his tongue — looking into your eyes as a sense of hunger dawns on him, as if you’re the very meal he’s set to devour. “not without anyone that wasn’t—“
reo. 
sure they’d done stuff together. naughty touches here and there, hands ghosting over boxer briefs and fingers tweaking nipples (sei’s were especially sensitive because of the cute little piercings his ex insisted he get) — but nothing close to actual sex, nothing with a girl, nothing with someone like you. a burning heat, unlike anything nagi’s ever felt before, begins to brew in his lower stomach. his cock rises beneath his pants that suddenly feel all too tight.
nagi’s girth twitches against his thigh as your nails rake their way down his chest and slowly pop open the buttons of his crisply pressed white shirt. it heaves beneath his clothes — heart hammering against its calcium cage of his ribs. 
“i can tell, pretty boy.” you soothe him by purring into the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the softness of his lobe. “but you’re a good kisser though. did reo teach you that?” your lips cascade down to his neck like a gentle flowing river at the same time that your hands delve below the belt to squeeze at seishiro’s swelling erection — testing the waters. 
his hips instinctively buck up into the warmth of your palm and a grin spreads across your plush lips at the feeling of his precum soaking his underwater and smearing across your fingers in thick, clingy webs. 
white and seedy and he’s nowhere close to cumming. almost like a little virgin. 
“have you ever done this before, seishiro?” 
the sound of his name, salaciously spelt out on his tongue, earns you a high pitched whine from nagi — his head rolling to the side and his thighs squeezing together with vicious need. “n-no,” he pauses before he grunts out a response and his entire body seizes as you take a firmer grip on his cock — jamming a thumb into his leaky slit to spread his arousal. “but i wanted to i just… reo said not until marriage—“
“— you don’t have to listen to reo anymore.” you announce breathily, setting a steady pace to your fist to jerk him off with. you’ve barely started and yet your hand is already glossed in a slight sheen of pre, soiling your knuckles from its viscousness. it’s so much for someone who’s never gone father than sloppy kisses and grinding while making out. it nurtures a certain seed of satisfaction in your chest to see him so messy so fast. “you can listen to me, sweet boy. do you want this… do you want it with me?” 
without letting go of the fat, drippy cock within your grasp — you shift to stand between the desk and nagi’s chair, shoving papers and court notes to the ground in your lustful haze. nagi thrusts lazily into your closed fist as if it’s instinct, following the sensation like a moth takes to a candle light. his grey eyes grow murky like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.
who was reo mikage to seishiro nagi? when there was an angel like you willing to feed this inexperienced man morsels of a heavenly pleasure he’s never felt before. the lawyer in training nods at your words like an eager man fallen to siren’s song as bait. “i want you,” he whimpers airily. “i wanna with you.” 
you rub down his thick, lengthy dick far enough to have your fingertips briefly brush against seishiro’s sensitive, weightly balls — just pulsing full of seed to give to you. the feeling makes nagi jump up from his seat so that he immediately towers over you. his height doesn’t overwhelm you, not when the towering blonde collapses onto you with a case of the shakes. he trembles above you, supporting himself by using one hand on the table while is mouth sloppily finds your neck to suck on and pacify himself.
“good boy, sei,” you coo, voice as sweet as hot sugar or candy. “i want you too. i always have. you’re such a pure, darling boy. glad to see that it’s true.” your praise is hidden in your soft moans as seishiro licks at the crystalline salt on your bare skin. you’re a little too twisted, taking advantage of his inexperience and his position beneath you as a student, but neither of you seem to care in this very moment. 
sweat beads against nagi’s hairline like diamonds on an expensive Chanel necklace and roses bloom across his cheeks with exertion — his hips rise and fall into your sticky fist in fluid motions, changing the steady stream of ecstasy you provide him. your hand is a solace for his aching cock, but you still make your student work for it. make nagi chase you since he only works hard for the things he wants. and right now, he wants to reach the end of the tight rope of pleasure you have him walking on. and to stave off the stormy frustration he feels from the case.
your hand wriggles it’s way into his wet silver locks, dragging nagi’s hungry mouth over yours since he’s so desperate to taste you, to have at you. it shows in the way he roughly grabs your hips too, grip so tight it threatens to leave bruises he’ll have to apologise for later. “ngh… please. g-god. miss…a-angel please,” he stutters, his bucking into your hand faster and harder, back and forth, back and forth through the tight ring of your fist. his bright and angry red cockhead peeks through the other side, glazed in opaque white — it’s a nice feeling, blistering hot and sensitive. “i…hah… gotta—“
nagi’s lashes flutter against your cheek — a strained whine reverbing in the base of his throat while you let him fuck your hands to his heart’s content, let him chase this new pleasure he’s never known. let him fall from the high heavens with blackened and burnt angel’s wings. you make him sin, for the first time ever. something about this should feel off to nagi, his law teacher taking advantage of him like this — but at this point, he’s too far gone, drowning in a hellfire of lust. 
mocking his moans, your mouth falls open in one of your own as you follow along with the pitiful expressions crossing the contours of seishirou’s face. “what is it, sei? what do you need?”
the room is too hot. your bodies against each other are temperate in the sex tainted air — accompanied by wet slapping sounds from your hand around his throbbing cock. “n-need to let go. it h-hurts,” he sniffles out, forcing his tongue into your mouth again to calm himself down. the more you speed up, remorselessly jerking him off, the closer nagi gets to the end of his own tether. this sensation is unfamiliar, the crumbling foundation of his orgasm coming crashing down as you fling droplets of his precum and arousal about the place — some of it landing on your clothes, the desk and discarded papers. 
again, neither of you care. 
“surrender to me baby, it’s okay. i’ve got you.” guiding the pale blonde through his first ever orgasm, you pour your heated words into his slobbering mouth — tongue running over his pearly white teeth and tangling with his drool coated tongue. that’s all sei needs to hear before he crumples against you with a shout — the first wave of his high crashing over him and pulling him under. 
it’s world shattering, brain melting as he cums. his abdomen contracts under your never-ending touch, ropes of hot white dribbling from his stimulated tip like a tap that keeps running. nagi swears he almost blacks out, falling dizzy and victim to your lustful charms as he twitches and cums and cums into your soiled palm. 
“f-fuck,” a soft whimper bubbles up on his raw bitten lips, stuttered out in suprise. “w-what was that?” 
“you orgasmed for me, sei, so pretty baby.” comes another set of your gentle praises. he feels his entire body wrack with a shakes at your words, his cock doesn’t dare to soften either. “you look so good when you cum.” 
his greyish-brownish eyes roll back into his skull when you let him go, his tip slapping against his clothed tummy. the brush of his cotton shirt against the slit on his tip makes him writhe from the sensitivity. “c-can i cum for you again? promise i’ll keep being good.” 
“of course,” you grin, proud that to have corrupted the poor boy. “are you okay to let me touch you again or do you want it now?” 
“touch me. now.” he growls, gripping your hand and guiding it towards his dribbling shaft, aiding the movement of your palm around him to start slow and lazy — working seishiro up into a heat once more. this time, the way your hand languidly jerks him off is made smooth by the evidence of his last orgasm, which you now use as lube. if you weren’t pressed for time and with a court case first thing tomorrow, you would have gotten onto your knees to clean up his copious amounts of mess. 
you quickly reduce him to a babbling mess against you, drool laden on his tongue and dripping onto his skin as you drive your thumb over nagi’s hot tip in tight circles with your free hand — touching what doesn’t fit in the other. “reo treated you so badly, poor baby,” you mewl sweetly, kitten licking at his pulse point just below his neck. “you work so hard, you deserve so much better. you deserve me.” 
he believes you, blindly and naively. nodding tenderly despite the way he widely fucks both of your hands as if they’re a makeshift hole — warm and slick, all for him. dopamine shocks him at the stem of his brain, spreading throughout his body like a wildfire only you can tame — it burns so good and  feels even better to have your dainty, perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his chubby girth so deliciously.
for a moment, you let seishiro go to squeeze at his heavy breeder’s balls — noticing the way they pulsate in your palm to signify the pale blonde’s second impending orgasm. “i think…hah… i think ‘m gonna… c-cum! again!”
pushing at his shirt, you press a kiss to the creamy skin of nagi’s shoulder and hum pridefully. “thank you for letting me know, sweetheart. cum for me. give it to me.”
with your permission granted, another blinding ecstasy takes over nagi, and he falls victim to you and your merciless hands once again. blood rushes through his ears like a storm surge, drowning at your angel coos while you guide him through his high, never letting up as you palm him through it all. he quivers and his knees buckle, shooting a hot and hefty load of seed all over your hand and clothes and the papers nearby.  “o-oh! fuck…” nagi chokes on a weak sob, bleating like an innocent lamb at the slaughter house while he weighed against your shorter frame — allowing you to bare the brunt of his weight and height. 
he’s so pretty when he cums, silvering blonde locks matted to his forehead by sweat — cheeks pink and lips swollen and red. if you could, you’d swallow him whole and selfishly devour your student for all that he has to offer. silly little blonde, stupid for trusting you, for wanting to fuck you.
your hand doesn’t slow around his pulsing cock but instead speeds up, digging your thumb into his oozing slit as arousal pearls at its centre once more. “n-no, s’too much.” seishiro cries quietly, tears stinging a pathway down the apples of his milky cheeks. “it hurts.” 
“poor you, poor baby.” you say harshly, mocking the poor blonde’s sniffles and hiccups. he’s exhausted and frustrated but doesn’t dare to pull away — his hips running after your hand hungrily. “you’re so cute sei, panting for me like a bitch in heat, fucking my hand like the dumb little blonde you are.” he hisses at the overstimulation, gargles on spit as it floods his mouth to accompany his appetite for you. 
“i’m not…ngh… ‘m not dumb.” he whinges in response and before either of you know it, seishiro is cumming again. hard. soiling his lap with abundant amounts of white. his chest heaves as he comes down, collapsing against you. he might deny it later, but being dumbed down and reduced to a stupid blonde seemed to really do it for him. 
finding his lips again, you soothe nagi with short and sweet kisses that grow more feverish by his own demand. all of a sudden you find yourself pinned to the desk below with the tall blonde between your instinctually parted legs so that he can grind against your panty clad core. “you’re…you’re right,” you say, breathing deep through your nose as your composure threatens to fall apart. “you’re so smart, sei. you’re the best lawyer on our team but…” bucking your hips once, you lower your voice by an octave so that your words slip through his ears like molten chocolate. “you’re acting like a dumb slut right now. don’t you wanna be my dumb slut, sei?”
his palm flattens against the mahogany desk just above your head, caging you in against its cold surface. “y-yes i do, oh fuck. please lemme fuck you. lemme be inside. i’ll be good.” 
“are you sure, baby?” 
“please—“ 
“but sei,” you brush a stray hair that curls at the centre of his forehead, the dumb blonde looking down at you with swimming grey eyes because he’s so needy. “it’d be your first time…” 
his face scrunches, nose crinkled at its bridge and brows knitted together in frustration. now that nagi’s had a taste of your sinful elixir he can’t seem to stop, you’re like a drug an addict can’t quit. something that could ruin his life or future prospects if he doesn’t get help. and yet he can’t look away, can’t pull his body away from yours and his achy dick from between your thighs — instead leaning closer so that it sinks between your plush pussy lips. 
nagi licks his lips, tongue rolling over his bottom one as he pants desperately. “please angel,” comes his broken beg, hanging pathetically in the sex tainted hair. “i need you. need it so bad. please please please— mph—!”
satisfied with his begging, you shove a set of cum soaked digits past the swell of seishiro’s pretty lips — chuckling darkly as his tongue laps over and in between them, and he whines at the salty taste of his arousal on your skin. “atta boy,” you coo, thrusting deep into the hot cavern of his mouth until the pale blonde gags around you, swallowing your fingers down like they’re a cock. he sucks so obediently, so desperately as if to please. like a good student too — and all the while, you work on kicking off your panties and flipping up your skirt so that he can get a nice rewarding view of your glistening cunt. 
“c’mere,” you reach out to the blonde and he leans into you, letting you wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him in place. “sei,” you gasp at the first contact of his thick, long shaft against your throbbing wet mound — mouth agape as if you’ve taken a gunshot wound to the chest. “do you know how to do this, smart boy? do you know how to fuck?”
nagi nods, pressing his forehead to yours while his hips jut forward on their own and his seedy tip brushes against your pearling clit so deliciously. at first, his movements are lax and the room is filled with the lewd squelches of your sexes moving over one another, but your breathing soon grows ragged and the salacious bump and grind becomes stickier and wetter. 
“u-uhuh.” he mumbles in response.
he’s so good for you even when his mouth is full and his mind is dazed, sucking on your fingers while he lets you overwhelm him. however, the blonde is only so well behaved and patient, and it’s not long before he slips his girth past the tight ring of your entrance without any warning. his fingertips dance up to your waist, grabbing at the fat there and using it as leverage to drag you to the edge of the table so he can sink into you further.
“oh…fucking hell!” you whimper wetly against the junction of nagi’s neck, nails digging into his shoulders to steady yourself while he sets the pace to your sinful dance. he’s bigger than what you expected (despite mapping his girth out with your hands), stretching your sloppy walls wide to accommodate for his size. you don’t complain, however, eyes rolling as he brushes up against pleasure spots you could never reach on your own. “o-oh baby, fuck me.” 
you pull your fingers out of his mouth with a lewd pop, desperate to hear the symphony of his sweet, low and sexy moans instead of having them muffled by your fingers while he fucks you for the first time. the pale blonde can hardly believe it — having your warmth wrapped around him and your cunt drool down on him like a waterfall. 
the law student throws his weight into fucking you, bullying his way into the deepest parts of your womb to slothfully fuck up your gooey insides. your cunt, your moans, your whole body has some kind of control over nagi — dumbing him down and reducing him to a sex crazed mess. to the point where he can’t even remember his ex’s name. he’s a mop of pale blonde hair and sweaty clothes, entirely hunched over you. 
“y-you’re so tight,” he tells you in a dreamy sigh, lost in the heat of your core. nagi’s grabs at your pudgy thighs and drags you back and forth onto his dick, the new deepness to his thrusts causing you to squeeze and froth around the fat base of nagi’s cock. “hah, feels so…so good.” 
wrapping your shaky legs around his slender waist, you offer up the same treatment to nagi — pulling him close to the point where he’s buried in your sluice sex right up to the hilt. his precum smears against your ribbed walls and his broken whimper echoes around your hotel room. “that’s it, fuck me like you fucked my hand, sweet boy.” lust sparks against your sex slicked bodies, your breasts bouncing with every one of nagi’s calculated yet sloppy thrusts. you can’t get enough of one another, clinging and clawing at one another’s bodies madly. “you can do it, prove to reo that you don’t need him. only me.” 
“o-only you.” nagi repeats weakly, tucking his face into your neck as he pounds you to the high heavens. the desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, threatening to break at the nails and bolts that hold it together. his eyelashes flutter against your skin, his low and deep moans mixed with high pitched gasps send a hot rush of dopamine across your brain and it really is all too much. 
nagi’s already cum three times and managed to fold you in half over his desk as a virgin. he feel as though he might break with how much he loves this, loves fucking you senseless. another fresh set of tears burn tracks down his face and gather in his unfairly long lashes as they tickle your skin. he hiccups and heaves against you, whilst his breathing grows ragged every time his glistening cock escapes the snugness of your tight pussy, precum stringing along your puffy folds. 
“so good baby, s-so fucking good!” your voice is broken and husky as you praise him, making his dick pulse against your g-spot over and over again. you’re fairing no better than he is, your skin blistering hot to the touch and bruised from how tight your student is gripping you — pulling you back onto his cock.
the pale blonde feels though he might burst, cream your insides like he did your hand and ruin that pretty skirt of yours — the one that sticks to his pelvis because of how close your bodies are. it’s rubbed him raw while he fucks you raw. “‘m i the best?” seishiro asks, cherishing the embrace of your viscous walls, his shaft coated in a crude mix of white as it froths from your tight little hole. “t-tell me i’m the best…” 
“t-the best i’ve ever had! f-fuck, sei!” you squeal in response, only egging the law student on, babbling your praises while fat droplets of your arousal flies about the place — painting nagi’s pelvis in a shiny gloss, curling in his white happy trail as well. 
“‘m the best. i’m the best for you.” grunting from the exertion and the very force of his own thrusts, seishiro wraps both of his strong arms around your middle and stands up from the table — taking you with him. at the new angle, the coil in your stomach only tightens and you fling your arms around his neck to prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “s’not enough, not deep enough. fuuuck you’re so wet and warm. i-i can’t,” he drawls lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear on instinct. 
that’s when seishiro begins to use his sheer strength to lift and drop you back onto his thick girth, fucking up into you at the exact same time. “g-good god!” you cry out, your impending orgasm prickling at your pelvis — shooting down each section of your spine. all of it only serves to spur nagi on. 
“give me your fingers,” he demands huskily, cantering into you from bellow — your juices running a steamy track down his heavy balls as they harshly smack against your peachy ass. “wan’ suck on ‘em. give ‘em.”
you don’t have time to register his ask because he grabs your wrist before your mind can even catch up (too occupied with the way he’s churning up your guts) and has two of your fingers in his eager little mouth — sucking on them diligently. you shudder as nagi runs his tongue between them, coats them in spit and drool that tracks across his chin once he’s done with them. 
“touch yourself for me?” he pleads through a wet whine, almost too innocently. “wanna see you cum this time.” 
it’s only then that you realise he’s been holding himself back, staving off his orgasm so he can see you writhe and gush all for him. the overstimulation must be burning at his brain, sizzling off his nerve endings and it’s probably more than the dumb little blonde virgin can take. so you do as he asks, trailing your spit slicked fingers between your bodies as they grind down on one another and you with your sensitive clit, pulling its hood back to draw tight circles over the pleasure nub. 
“o-oh! seishiro!” 
“that’s right, touch yourself f’me. wanna see you lose it like you make me lose it,” he moans softly constraining with how rough nagi pounds up into you. one of his hands slips from your hips to grope at your ass, pushing you down on him and forcing his cock to grind against that one special spot threatening to make you break. “‘m sorry,” he whimpers as though he’s going to cry. “d-don’t think i can hold back, angel.” 
“then don’t,” you gasp at the new friction, holding onto your last strings of sanity as you fumble with your clit tucked away between your ravaged folds. “i know you wanna cum for me, sei. l-let go, yeah? wanna see you break for me, like a good blonde slut.” 
your encouragement doesn’t give seishiro much choice, and while he’s in control of your bodies — his lean, strong frame anchoring you down onto his cock as it bullies your insides, you are in control of his mind. you destroy his train of thought, ruin the self-made man he was and send him tumbling into his final high. nagi’s orgasm breaks the surface viciously, pouring another load of his cum against your ripe and rippling walls. there’s still so much of it, the warm and viscous white seeping from your cunt and smearing all over your hot mound. 
the force of nagi’s high is so strong that he nearly drops you, just about managing to pin you safely to the desk once more. he’s still cumming and cumming and cumming — but that doesn’t stop him from thrusting into you hard and fast, desperate to trigger your orgasm so he can reward himself. it doesn’t take long, he’d already had you seated on the edge before his mind had shattered to pieces just from fucking you. 
you gush down his length and all over what remains of your shitty case notes (he probably didn’t need them anyways) with a pornographic shout when you finally hit your peak. it’s like the crescendo of a beautiful song — the world around you spinning and flashing white as you squirt and gush for the white haired lawyer. 
“f-fuck.” you giggle with a soft smile, fatigue washing over the both of you come down from the gates of heaven — crashing back down to earth with ecstasy still buzzing in your veins. “good boy, sei. you did so good for me,” you hum softly. “do you feel any better?” 
seishiro looks up at you from where his heavy frame has collapsed on your chest — clothes sweaty and askew, and offers you a lazy grin in return. “better,” he mumbles meekly and kisses a slither of your exposed skin, still grinding his seed into you as if to make sure it sticks. “thank you.” 
bringing a hand up to toy with his hair and soothing him, you nod. “good, we should get some rest, you’ve got a big trial tomorrow, pretty boy.” 
“do you think I can do it?” 
“i know you can, sei.” you scratch at his scalp. “i meant it. what i said earlier. you’re the best lawyer on our team. shidou’s defence stands a pretty good chance.” 
nagi grins once more, only this time he leans up to press a chaste kiss to your unexpecting mouth — pouring all of his gratefulness into it. 
because thanks to you, he feels more confident about the trial, — almost as if he’s won the trial already. and even if nagi goes lose, at least he’s won you over.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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solarmorrigan · 1 year ago
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“Hey.”
Eddie looks up from the inventory sheet he’s bent over (the new shipment of records isn’t going to record itself – Christ, that was awful, Henderson is contagious) to see his coworker Kyle poking his head into the back room.
“Someone left something for you at the counter.”
“Who?” Eddie asks, brows furrowed.
Most everyone in town seems to have let the murder accusations drop (embarrassed enough by their own fanatical reactions that they’d much rather forget the whole thing), but a few people still treat him like a felon walking free; it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.
“Uh, real normie-looking guy. Gives you a ride sometimes.”
Eddie blinks. “Steve?”
“Yeah, sure.” Kyle shrugs. “Says you left it in his car.”
Whatever Eddie is expecting to see when he follows Kyle back out to the front counter of the music shop, a brown bag lunch isn’t it. He most certainly hadn’t left that in Steve’s car this morning.
Steve hadn’t even given him a ride that morning.
But it’s got his name on it, sure enough, in Steve’s weirdly neat handwriting. The asshole even drew a little heart next to it.
Eddie can already feel a smile pulling across his face as he snatches up the bag. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten his lunch in Steve’s car, but he certainly hadn’t brought one in with him. He’d been planning to hit up the McDonald’s down the street if he got desperate, but whatever Steve’s brought him is bound to be better.
“Your girlfriend pack that for you?” Kyle asks.
Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh, for a minute not quite sure how to answer.
Gender assumptions aside, Eddie doesn’t know what to call this thing with Steve – this thing where they’d started screwing and then they’d started falling asleep together without screwing and then they’d started spending all their free time together and now Steve does things like pack Eddie lunch and bring it to him at work.
“Sorta,” he finally settles on.
“Dude, if she’s making you lunch and writing little hearts next to your name, she’s more than ‘sorta’ your girlfriend,” Kyle says.
“Yeah… Maybe,” Eddie allows, because – well, because maybe.
“Pretty nice of your friend to drive it over, though,” Kyle says. “Pretty sure at least half of my friends would’ve just eaten it.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says again, warm and a little smug, “Steve’s a good dude.”
He digs into the lunch sack and finds an apple sitting on top (of course), a baggie of Keebler fudge cookies (score), and a Tupperware container filled with–
“Oh, fuck yes!” Eddie hugs the precious little tub full of macaroni and cheese to his chest like he’s doing his best Gollum impression. There is nothing in the world better than Steve’s mac and cheese.
It’s still warm.
“I’m taking my break!” Eddie declares, skittering off to the back room before Kyle can argue.
He sits himself down in the employee break area (a crappy folding table, two mismatched chairs, and a microwave so old he’s probably getting radiation poisoning just by sitting next to it) and digs in to the cheesy goodness that is Steve’s cooking.
He’ll eat the apple after, he reasons.
(No he won’t.)
As he eats, his eyes drift back to the crumpled brown bag, to the little heart drawn in bleeding black sharpie, and he thinks.
-
Steve’s house smells like chicken and herbs when Eddie lets himself in early in the evening, and oh, Steve must be in a good mood today.
Eddie feels spoiled.
He finds Steve in the kitchen, wrist-deep in sudsy water as he sways back and forth absently to the tune of the rock station coming from the radio on the windowsill. The room is warm, and something delicious-smelling in a covered pan is simmering on the stove, and the space behind Steve is invitingly empty, just waiting for Eddie to sidle up into it.
Eddie feels so, so spoiled.
Steve doesn’t startle when Eddie slides in behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, but Eddie isn’t really surprised anymore; it seems like Steve can always tell when someone is there.
He does glance over his shoulder, though, just long enough for Eddie to see the smile on his face before he turns back to the dishes. “Hi.”
Eddie’s pretty sure the smile on his own face is softer and infinitely more besotted. “Hi.”
“Good day at work?” Steve asks.
Eddie hums, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s shoulder. “You brought me lunch.”
“I’m glad Kyle actually gave it to you,” Steve says. “Wasn’t sure someone else wouldn’t eat it.”
“I got it,” Eddie says, as if there was any doubt with the way he’s still smiling in between trailing little kisses up Steve’s neck.
Steve shuts the water off and dries his hands on the towel hanging off the cupboard door before turning in Eddie’s arms to give him a proper kiss. “It was good?”
Eddie hums again. “You brought me lunch.”
“We’ve established that, yeah,” Steve laughs, allowing Eddie another kiss as he grins.
“You made me lunch,” Eddie says, pecking another kiss to Steve’s lips, still smiling like an idiot. “And you drove it up to the store for me.”
Steve shrugs, a little coy. “It’s my day off. I had time to kill.”
“Kyle says that makes you more than sorta my girlfriend,” Eddie replies, as if that will make any sense at all to Steve.
Whether it makes sense or not, it does make him laugh, and Eddie peppers kisses all over his face while he does.
“So it was good?” Steve asks again, when he’s caught his breath.
“You made me lunch and then you drove it over to me,” Eddie stresses. “It could’ve tasted like ass, and it still would’ve been the best thing ever.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but is more than obliging to the deep kiss Eddie pulls him into after that.
“But just so we’re clear,” Steve says when they break apart, “it didn’t taste like ass, right?”
“Oh my god, no,” Eddie finally relents. “It was literally the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I’m going to marry you so you can make that mac and cheese for me every day.”
“Every day, huh?” There’s a funny little smile climbing back over Steve’s face. “You sure you won’t get sick of it?”
“Nah,” Eddie replies confidently. “Never.”
They’re both smiling a little too much now to really kiss, but they make a good go of it anyway.
[Prompt: Smiling between kisses]
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theealbatross · 2 months ago
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fight the alchemy (s.s)
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Plot | After a tumultuous year, Sebastian’s life was finally okay – passable, up-to-scratch, satisfactory. And he had just almost reached peace – when his brilliant, painfully observant, carelessly crude genius of a friend, Garreth Weasley, started pointing out unnecessary facts that could rip all that harmony to shreds.
or, Garreth asks why Sebastian isn’t dating you. Sebastian spirals.
Tags | fluff, sebastian is a thought daughter, low self esteem, seb is a playboy BUT NOT REALLY, horny thots but we keep it pg, insecurity so deep you try to fight cupid, cupid fights back
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An Ashwinder’s wand to his neck and Sebastian could honestly and truly say that he was … alright.
Life wasn’t perfect, by any means. His uncle was murdered dead, an estranged twin sister in Paris who refuses to answer his letters, a mistrustful Ominis that breathes on his neck, and a tattered companionship that was barely hanging on by a thread.
But he was okay.
Thankfully, Solomon was still dead, Anne was still alive, and still cranky Ominis is now open to reconciliation. Plus, if all else had fallen, he at least managed to save your cherished friendship thanks to your forgiving nature.
Thus, as thanks to the people who had not yet given up on him, he had sworn to live the rest of his academic life as a meek, unassuming, law-abiding student of Hogwarts.
And he did such a good job at it.
The professors are now impressed at his steadily increasing grades (so much so that the Ravenclaws are now finally seeing him as a threat again) and he even managed to make Imelda’s team as her beater to keep him occupied.
The latter, however, had a grating consequence – he had become popular.
It was thrilling, at first, he went on dates to make up for the years he had lost, kissed the pretty girls because it felt like he should (as one of the few bastards lucky enough to live every raging teenager’s dream), and accepted the slaps on the face politely when they inevitably broke up.
But now he’s just gotten tired and bored of it all.
Ominis says it’s a genius’ folly, to always find a fault in something and then drop it when it doesn’t quite meet his standard of perfect. Leander says he’s just a bastard.
He cups his face with his hand, wincing. Her fucking ring caught on his skin and he can’t be arsed to suffer through the bitterness of a Wiggenweld Potion for a mere scratch.
Garreth doesn’t bother to swallow his bread before saying, “Really, mate? I thought you liked this one?”
“Liked her rack, more likely,” Andrew quipped from his seat on the stone steps of the boathouse.
Sebastian threw his scarf on his face, satisfied at his squawk.
“No talking about my ex-girlfriends,” he warned. It was one of his few rules when it came to his male friends. He may be a bastard but as someone with a sister and a couple of good female friendships, he makes it a point to never become one of those losers who talk badly about women they have a history with. Just so he can have a moral high ground when he beats up anyone who might do it to his friends.
“All right, all right,” Andrew raised his hands in playful surrender, throwing Sebastian’s scarf back to him. “But as your friend, I think it’s about time you stop swapping out girls every time you get bored of them.”
“I don’t swap them out,” he rolls his eyes. “Breakups are normal.”
“Breakups are normal,” Garreth points out. “Six breakups in 2 years is an issue.”
“Maybe I’m just meant for the bachelor life,” he mumbles, ignoring the pointed accusation from Garreth. Fucking perceptive prick. “Not everyone gets to meet their soulmate in Hogwarts, asshole.”
Garreth grins, “Natty’s great, isn’t she?”
Sebastian and Andrew both throw their scarves at him, the three of them bursting out in laughter and boos.
“To the Three Broomsticks, then?” Andrew stood up, patting his pants.
As 7th years it was nearly impossible to take a breather with the looming threat of exams that will dictate the rest of your life and the inescapable trap of adulthood that awaits them in a couple of months. So, his friends had made it a point to at least go out once every week whenever they could, really take advantage of their last year as students where they had no other responsibility but to survive the week.
In a year’s time, seeing each other as often as they do will be nothing short of a miracle.
“Leander and Everett are already there, saved up a table since it’s a Friday, it’s gonna be packed full,” Andrew explains.
Sebastian looks around, eyes scanning the castle in the setting sun. “You go on ahead I’m waiting for –”
“Sebastian!”
A flash of movement appeared rushing down the stairs towards the boathouse, your face beaming as you waved to the three of them. When you were a foot away from him you jumped into his arms, shrieking energetically when he grabbed your waist and lifted you above his head.
“Sorry, I’m late,” you pant, smiling at your friends once you’re back on the ground. “Professor Hecate asked me to stay back for a minute, something about revisions on my research.”
“I can’t believe you got permission to research in The Restricted Section after the crazy nonsense you pulled in 5th year,” Garreth shook his head. Sebastian wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side, beaming in pride. Nobody knows but the two of you that the very thing you were researching were the technicalities of how you broke Anne’s curse so it could be taught to the nurses in St. Mungos and hopefully spread to the rest of wizardkind.
“It’s exactly because I had the nerve to break the rules that I was given the honorable opportunity,” you dramatically curtsied. “And they said Gryffindors were the brave ones.”
That made Sebastian laugh. Garreth blinks, eyes squinting at him for a second but he doesn’t look offended, more … focused on Sebastian.
“Alright, no more of that House Rivalry. Quidditch Season is over,” Andrew quips.
“Wiped your asses there too, Larson,” he quipped, Andrew’s jaw drops, looking at Garreth for help and receiving none. He was still staring at Sebastian, eyes shifting between him and you.
Andrew groans. “Slytherins are assholes.”
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Slytherins are, apparently, also light-weights.
Well, at least one of them is.
He adjusts his hold on your body as the other hand wraps his coat around your body properly. After your last ‘improved’ butterbeer you had slumped into his lap, rudely snoozing off on the crook of his neck and refusing to wake up even when it was time for your group to leave – not that he would’ve allowed that to happen, with your demanding research it was a miracle to get you to sleep let alone let loose.
The rest of the group had gone in first to scope the scenery and bribe the patrolling Head students with leftover chips while he and Garreth were stuck carrying you and an unconscious Amit that they had managed to catch last-minute in Hogsmeade. Poor bastard.
“I was thinking –”
“Please don’t,” he groans.
“Why have you two never dated?”
Sebastian stops his fussing, barely able to use his head to ensure he keeps walking, and continue to Act Normal, now using both of his hands to hold you tighter.
“You’re drunk,” he deflects. The puffs of your breath warm his entire body.
“Because! When I think about it …”
Please, for the love of the great Merlin stop thinking.
“You’ve been inseparable from the start! I can’t believe it’s escaped my notice you’ve never dated. You say your past relationships got boring and got annoying but you’ve never been bored and annoyed with her and you’ve been friends for years!”
Bored with you? He’s had more near-fatal heart attacks because of you than breakups. Sebastian barely had the time to be bored. And sometimes you do get at each other’s throats but it was always fixed after a proper conversation. If his killing his uncle couldn’t turn you away then he doubts anything you do could ever turn him away.
“Plus, with all the respect and love to my beautiful darling Natty, she’s a fucking catch, mate!”
If Garreth wasn’t carrying a sinless half-dead Amit, Sebastian would’ve punched him in his mouth just to stop him from talking.
“I’m just saying,” Garreth walks ahead of him, clearly aware of the fuse he had just lit. Sebastian was tempted to kick the back of his knees just for the satisfaction of seeing him fall.  “Maybe you can join the club and find your soulmate in Hogwarts.”
Garreth winks.
“We’re still accepting members.”
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He’s decided.
He needs to kill Garreth.
He has not been able to sleep properly for the past week and it’s all because of that ginger prick and his needless remarks.
“Why have you two never dated?”
Sebastian’s pencil cracks in his hand.
“Is he alright?” he hears an underclassman whisper on the other table. He glances at them and they flinch. Quickly, he softens his expression ("You really need to stop scowling at people, Sebastian."), unaware he had glared at them and sent a wary smile in apology. It would just be unfair to aim his ire at innocent people when he could just use it to rip out every strand of Weasley’s hair.
“He’s been staring at that page for an hour. Maybe we should call –”
He stands up, escaping.
Sebastian never realized just how much he spent his time with you until people were looking at him funny when he was walking or sitting alone in public places. At first, he thought there had been crumbs on his face or one of his asshole friends stuck a note on his back like a kid. Plus, he hadn’t been feeling his best since that night but he thought it had been the lack of sleep.
It wasn’t until he had met Imelda on the grounds that he found his answer:
“Where’s the rest of you?”
He blinked at his captain, “I’m sorry?”
She shook her head. “Man, it feels weird seeing you alone. Did you guys have a fight? You’re usually shadowing her like a puppy after class.”
Then everything clicks, the strange looks, the feeling of missing something (like a forgotten important homework after he had reached the top of the Astronomy Tower) – it’s been a side effect of avoiding you.
Okay, it’s not that he’s avoiding you per se. He just needs space. He needs to think and he finds that can’t do that once he feels your eyes on him. With his luck, you’re going to see right through him and that would just be unideal if not a fucking catastrophe.
That’s why he’s taken it upon himself to stay off your way until he puts his thoughts in a row and finally screws his head on straight again. Or he could just kill Garreth, get sent straight to Azakaban, and avoid confronting these complicated thoughts altogether.
“I can’t believe it’s escaped my notice you’ve never dated!”
He sits on a bench, hands on his head as he let out a prolonged groan, “The fucking bastard.”
Why did he have to point it out? Why did Garreth have to bring what he, upon reflection, had buried on the back of his head, just waiting for that one little flick of acknowledgment before it blew his brains out.
Because Sebastian is a lot of things but he’s not a fucking moron.
It’s not that the thought of being together is unpleasant. If he lets himself consider it his chest feels like it would escape his ribcage both in excitement and utter terror.
But Garreth was right: he’d never thought about it before – hadn’t thought the idea was conceivable in this reality.
He has a feeling it was his way of preserving whatever pure relationship he had left. He’s not exactly rich with true companionship and he’s not idiotic enough to risk it all over a bloody crush. 
And not just any crush – his best friend, the person who saved his life and then helped him rebuild it when he was finished smashing it to pieces. The one who never turned her back even when his blood had given up. The girl who has a line of eligible bachelors following her on their knees for a single chance, ones who could offer her more than he ever could – ones who could offer her the world.
So, yeah – forgive him, but he’s never really allowed himself to entertain the idea of them dating. Sebastian has tested his luck enough.
Unless the roles switch and he gets to save the wizarding world this time then maybe … yeah, maybe -- maybe in another fucking life.
The thought makes him stand up, walking straight out of the campus to hopefully drown the sorrows of the depressing state of his love life with the best fire whiskey Hogshead could offer. How does he even move on from this? How does he make peace with the fact that he has sealed his fate of living the rest of his life alone? 
It’s impossible, he’s decided. Even if he graduates at the top of the classes he is taking and gets accepted into the Auror Programme that Sharp had recommended him for, their social standing is still heavens apart. He’s an orphan, with a husk of an extended family and no money to his name.
It wouldn’t matter to you, never really cared for pure bloodlines or lineages and he knows anyone who brings that up when they’re courting you will receive the most disgusted look on your face. 
But he cares – you are the most special person in his life. He wants the best for you. And the best is not something he can provide.
His depressing thoughts halt as his steps falter, a familiar scent tickling his nose. A familiar scent that leads straight into the Forbidden Forest. When he looks up to the sky, he realizes the sun has almost finished setting.
She can’t be that reckless, right?
He was barely surprised when he chanted the incantation that triggered the charm they had both put in their necklaces, the sparkling thread leads straight into the forest. And if he knows you half as well as he thinks he does then he knows exactly where it’s gonna lead to.
There goes his late-night plan.
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It isn’t exactly his first jaunt in the forbidden space but it still gives him the creeps especially so close to the night. Why you’re so fond of the place is something he’ll never understand.
But that’s just the way you were, just another part of your quirks that makes you so endearing.
How you throw your head back when you laugh, that you get so cranky when you’re studying that no one dares to approach you but him, even the way you messily eat your favorite chocolate pastry of the week yet never fail to share a piece with him.
With this new revelation, he bitterly accepts the reason for his philandering ways. That he simply is another prick who is coping with not being able to attain the love of his life at the expense of those poor girls.
His self-condemnation however was cut short when he heard the waterfall, not being able to help the smirk on his face when he turned the corner and found you just as he had expected: in the middle of the clear, dark, water, floating carelessly on your back.
Gods, you are a beauty. He’s always thought so, the entire male population in Hogwarts thought so too. If they somehow get to break through your walls and manage to get to know you, he might just have to beat them away with an actual stick.
“Sebastian,” you smile, his heart stops. “I knew you’d find me.”
You swim to him gracefully, barely disturbing the water with only your eyes above the water but there was no hiding the grin in your face. Like a pitiful sailor seduced by a siren, his feet dragged him to the edge, a short ledge above from where you were looking up at him.
“You left your scent on purpose,” he states, kneeling to get a closer look at you. What a beauty – mischievous, cunning, irresistible. He’s never loved anyone more. “Naughty, naughty, darling.”
She pulls herself up the ledge, their faces inches away from each other. He nails his eyes to yours so they wouldn’t be tempted to look down at your soaking figure cloaked only by a thin chemise “I had to get you somehow, knew you couldn’t resist a damsel in distress.”
“Funny,” he softly glares, chuckling when she preens, clearly satisfied that her plan worked perfectly. “With all the water in the Black Lake, you had to pick the Forbidden Forest to swim in.”
You dip yourself back down in the water, swimming away but still facing him. “Come, Sebastian. I’ve been bored all week since you’ve been avoiding me.”
Guilt runs through his spine at the sudden coldness in your offhanded comment. Clearly, his absence hasn’t escaped your notice as he had hoped.
Like a scolded pup, he follows your command to a T. Eyes never leaving your floating figure as he removed his coat, folding it neatly along with the rest of his clothes until he was left in his underclothes.
He winces at the touch of the freezing water. A heating charm would do wonders but the way your unsympathetic eyes never left his figure gave him a feeling that this was a punishment he was meant to endure.
He steels himself, diving into the water and only resurfacing when he is right in front of you. “You called?”
“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” you splash the cold water at him, shrieking when he reaches out for your arms and barely managing to slip away.
He dives again, grinning at your confused flounder, until you realize your mistake, looking down just as he catches your waist, your surprised shriek, and his unrestrained laughter breaks through the quiet of the forest.
“You done running now, pet?” he locks his hands on your back, pushing you close until he is carrying both your weight in the water, chin resting on your chest as your hands run through his soaking hair.
Your darkened hair frames your face, like a sheer curtain it drops, teasing his cheeks, and hiding your conversation from the rest of the forest – in the dimness, your eyes have never been more radiant, even if it was clearly pissed at him.
Skinship wasn’t foreign between the two of you. When you’ve saved each other’s lives from certain death more times than you care to count, cuddling is the least of your worries.
But there is something about the forest's silence, the sparse moonlight that peaks through the dense trees, the sound of the droplets falling from your hair to the water, and the distant echoes of the animals that make everything intimate. -- more intimate than usual.
“Are you?” you throw his question back at him mercilessly, your hands on the back of his neck, locking his face to look up at you – finally at you. The weeklong separation had been torture and now that the distance had cut his regular contact with his favorite witch, he finally realized how fast his heart was beating when he was around her.
He smiles.
He was satisfied, he swore he was.
Sebastian’s life was finally okay – passable, up-to-scratch, satisfactory. He shouldn’t strive for more, couldn’t allow himself that luxury – the luxury of love, the luxury of you.
But as he stares at your eyes, as he feels the ice in your skin, as he imagines a future where it wasn't him that gets to bite the plump of your lips – that dirty, greedy part of him crawls out of the hole he had shoved it in.
He feels it win.
“Are you done running now?” you whisper, a droplet falls from the tip of your nose to the space just below his eyes, his breath hitches, like your magnetic presence had sucked out all the air of the forest.
“I wasn’t running,” she raises a brow, and Sebastian presses his lips to your ears. “I was thinking.”
“And?”
Leander was right: he really is a bastard.
But he’s a bastard who will no longer wait for another life to love you. He's a bastard who will get what he wants.
“I think,” he whispers, at peace. “I think I’m gonna marry you someday.”
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moonstruckme · 9 months ago
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do poly!marauders with a clumsy s/o? Thank you!
Thanks for requesting love!
cw: blood
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words
“I’m going to purchase one of those leashes for unruly toddlers,” James says, thick lashes nearly touching as he squints down at your hand. “And I’m going to keep it around my wrist at all times.” 
“It won’t be as good at catching me as you are,” you point out. You do your best not to wince as he picks a piece of gravel out of your palm, but his eyes flick up to you anyway, an apology in them. 
“No, but at least I’ll be able to keep you close.” 
You laugh a little. “I trip whether you’re nearby or not.” 
“Beg to differ.” He sounds bitter, but James has always had a terrible poker face and the uptilt of his lips betrays him. He spreads ointment over the cuts on your hand before bandaging it. “If I was with you, this would’ve never happened. Guaranteed.” 
“Yes, it’s all your fault.” Remus comes in from the kitchen, maneuvering carefully so as not to get the hot mug he’s carrying anywhere near James. He sets it next to your thigh on the bathroom counter. “Jamie,” his tone is chiding, a bit tired, “why have you started with her hands? She’s bleeding down to her ankles.” 
“It’s nearly dried anyway,” you say, looking down at your shredded knees. Remus feels too bad for you to give you one of his worse reprimanding looks, but his eyes convey tremendous exasperation nonetheless. 
“Because I knew she’d need her hands to hold her tea,” James replies, bumping Remus’ hip lightly with his. “Ease up, I’ve got it. Did you make yourself some tea too?” 
Remus glances towards the kitchen the way an old captain might gaze at the sea. “I thought about it…” 
“Do that,” James says. He finishes up with your other hand, bandaging it carefully. “Actually, would you mind just putting a kettle on? I’ll have a cup, and Sirius might want one too.” 
You frown at that, but neither of your boyfriends see, Remus going into the kitchen with renewed purpose and James smiling slightly to himself as he finishes wrapping your hand. 
“One of these days,” he whispers, backing up a bit so he can work on your knees, “you’re going to have to sit on the couch and feed Remus chocolates for all you put his heart through. We’ll be lucky if the next time you fall he doesn’t have an attack.” 
“What’s Sirius coming here for?” you ask. 
“Well, he does live here.” 
You give him a look, but he doesn’t glance up from cleaning the blood off your shin. “He’s supposed to be shopping with Marlene.” Accusation and betrayal line your words. “You texted him?” 
James looks up at you now, sympathetic if not quite sorry. “You know I had to. He would’ve murdered me if he’d come home and seen you all bandaged up and nobody had told him.” 
“You could take him,” you grumble. 
He laughs. “I don’t know, sweetheart. He fights dirty.” 
You laugh too, though it’s more a humorous huff. “He can’t come home every time I trip,” you say, twisting the string of your tea bag around your index finger. “It’s not like I need to go to the hospital.” 
James works a larger piece of gravel out of your knee, eyebrows knit together by compassion. “He worries,” he says simply. “He wants to come home every time you hurt yourself, though if you recall, I didn’t tell anyone about you banging your head on the microwave door yesterday, or about when you fell on the stairs last week.” He looks up, grinning when you shrink, abashed. “But when you fall this bad, it’s a bit harder to hide. Sorry, lovie.” 
It’s a double apology, for ratting you out and for the sting of the ointment he smears over your knee. You hiss through your teeth. “Fair enough,” you say. James smooths a large band-aid over the series of shallow cuts, kissing the skin just above it for good measure. “I just don’t like to worry him. Any of you, if I can help it.” 
He shrugs. “I don’t think you can,” he says. You get what he means. Remus is a worrier, Sirius even more so, protective by nature and nurture. And each of your boyfriends cares about you too much to ignore how often you hurt yourself, even if you really think they should be desensitized to it and annoyed with you by now. “But I’m trying to get you cleaned up before he sees you, so hopefully that’ll help.” 
Like James has just issued a summons, the rumble of Sirius’ bike comes from outside. James grimaces as it slows to a stop. 
“I hate that fucking thing,” Remus growls from the kitchen. 
James shoots a sad smile in that direction. You think that you might not single-handedly cause Remus’ heart attack if Sirius gets there first. 
“Where is she?” Sirius calls as soon as he comes in the door. “I assume there’s a blood trail for me to follow?” 
James chuckles. “I told you it wasn’t that grim,” he shouts down the hall, and a second later there are heavy footsteps coming toward you. You brace yourself. 
“Fucking hell.” He halts just in the threshold of the bathroom, then seems to change his mind, striding over to you. His eyes are glued to the bloody mess of your uncovered knee. “Darling, what did you do?” 
You knew what to expect from him, and still your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to. “I missed the curb going out to get the mail,” you say. 
Sirius’ eyes lift to yours, widening. “You fell into the road?” You nod. “You could’ve been hit by a car!”
“There weren’t any cars.” There are almost never any cars on your street, and he knows that. 
“You’re lucky there weren’t,” he says anyway, holding his hand out. You place one of yours in it obediently, palm up. There’s a bit of blood marring the beige bandage, and Sirius makes a terribly soft pitying sound. “Your poor, lovely hands.” He runs a careful finger over the covering. “How bad was it?” he asks James.
“I told you, not horrific,” James says, finishing with getting the debris out of your knee and twisting the cap off the ointment. He looks up to be sure you’re ready before he starts smoothing it on.
“Stitches?” 
“Oh, tons. She’s held together more by thread than skin at this point.” 
You roll your eyes, but Sirius coos, “My poor sweetheart,” and grabs hold of your face to plant a kiss on your lips. You must look as pleasantly surprised as you feel, because he does it again, bending forward to avoid bumping his hip into your knee. 
His thumb sweeps across your cheek as he pulls away, brows furrowed. “Does it hurt?” he asks, and now the mirth has disappeared from his tone. You don’t know how Sirius does that, going from teasing to not in a blink. 
“Not so badly,” you tell him. 
He hums, stroking your face again. “Would you tell me if it did?” 
You feel your lips twitch, and Sirius’ eyes narrow like he knows your answer before you’ve spoken. “Probably not,” you admit, “but it really doesn’t.” 
He stares you down for a minute, murky eyes scanning yours for traces of untruth, his dark brows lowered. You reach up to slot a piece of hair behind his ear, and he cracks, mouth kicking up at the corner. 
“Alright, drink your tea before it gets cold.” 
“I’ve actually made tea for everyone,” Remus calls, not from the kitchen this time but from the living room. “And snacks, so please come eat them.” 
James grins, touch moving up the back of your knee to your thigh as he stands. “Excellent,” he says eagerly. “You’re all fixed up, m’love. Let’s go take care of Rem now.” 
You start to hop down from the counter, but Sirius says, “Wait, wait!” and grabs you by the hips, keeping you in place. “Can you walk?” 
You nod, because duh, your legs are scraped, not broken, but Sirius looks to James, the both of them frowning thoughtfully. 
“Best not to risk reopening them,” James decides, scooping you up off the counter. 
You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Thank you,” you say, rather than this is deeply unnecessary and you’re being ridiculous. James seems to hear both anyway, planting a sloppy, smiley kiss on your cheek. Sirius, satisfied, follows you down the hall. “I didn’t mean to make you my manservant, I swear.” 
“Happy to do it,” he says. “Now drink your tea, it’ll make Rem feel better.”
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plounce · 9 months ago
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researching stuff for a post about misinformation regarding girl scout cookies and man this article (10/28/23) about this palestinian-american girl scout nearly made me burst into tears
In her short 17 years on earth, Amira Ismail had never been called a baby killer.
That’s what happened one Friday this month, Amira said, on New York City’s Q58 bus, which runs through central Queens.
“This lady looked at me, and she was like: ‘You’re disgusting. You’re a baby killer. You’re an antisemite,’” Amira told me. When she talked about this incident, her signature spunk faded. “I just kept saying, ‘That’s not true,’” she said. “I was just on my way to school. I was just wearing my hijab.”
Amira was born in Queens in the years after the Sept. 11 attacks. She remembers participating as a child in demonstrations at City Hall as part of a successful movement to make Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha school holidays in New York City.
But since the Oct. 7 attack by Hamas, in which an estimated 1,400 Israelis were killed and some 200 others were kidnapped, Amira, who is Palestinian American, said she has experienced for the first time the full fury of Islamophobia and racism that her older relatives and friends have told stories about all her life. Throughout the city, in fact, there has been an increase in both anti-Muslim and antisemitic attacks.
In heavily Muslim parts of Queens, she said, police officers are suddenly everywhere, asking for identification and stopping and frisking Muslim men. (New York City has stepped up its police presence around both Muslim and Jewish neighborhoods and sites within the five boroughs.) Most painful though, she said, is the sense that she and her peers are getting that Palestinian lives do not matter, as they watch the United States staunchly back Israel as it heads into war.
“It can’t go unrecognized, the thousands of Palestinians that have been murdered in the past two weeks and even more the past 75 years,” Amira said. “There’s no way you can erase that.” That does not mean she is antisemitic, she said. “How can I denounce one system of oppression without denouncing another?” she asked me. The pain in her usually buoyant voice cut through me. I had no answer for her.
Many New York City kids have a worldliness about them, a certain telltale moxie. Amira, a joyful, sneaker-wearing, self-described “Queens kid,” can seem unstoppable.
When she was just 15, Amira helped topple a major mayoral campaign in America’s largest city, writing a letter accusing the ultraprogressive candidate Dianne Morales of having violated child labor laws while purporting to champion the working class in New York.
“My life and my extremely bright future as a 15-year-old activist will not be defined by the failures and harm enabled by Dianne Morales,” Amira wrote in the 2021 letter, which went viral and helped end Ms. Morales’s campaign. “I wrote my college essay about that,” Amira told me with a slightly mischievous smile.
In the past two years, Amira has become a veteran organizer. Last weekend, she joined an antiwar protest. First, though, she’ll have to work on earning her latest Girl Scout badge, this one for photography. That will mean satisfying her mother, Abier Rayan, who happens to be Troop 4179’s leader. “She’s tough,” Amira assured me.
At a meeting of the Muslim Girl Scouts of Astoria last week, a young woman bounded into the room, asking whether her fellow scouts had secured tickets to an Olivia Rodrigo concert. “She’s the Taylor Swift of our generation,” the scout turned to me to explain.
A group of younger girls recited the Girl Scout Law:
“I will do my best to be honest and fair, friendly and helpful, considerate and caring, courageous and strong, and responsible for what I say and do, and to respect myself and others, respect authority, use resources wisely, make the world a better place and be a sister to every Girl Scout.”
Amira’s mother carefully inspected the work of some of the younger scouts; she wore a blue Girl Scouts U.S.A. vest, filled with colorful badges, and a hot-pink hijab. “It’s no conflict at all,” Ms. Rayan told me of Islam and the Girl Scouts. “You want a strong Muslim American girl.”
At the Girl Scouts meeting, Amira and her friends discussed their plans to protest the war in Gaza. “Protests are where you let go of your anger,” Amira told me.
Amira’s mother was born in Egypt. In 1948, Ms. Rayan told me, her grandfather lost his home and land in Jaffa to the state of Israel. At the Girl Scout meeting, Ms. Rayan was still waiting for word that relatives in Gaza were safe.
“There’s been no communication,” she said. When I asked about Amira, Ms. Rayan’s eyes brightened. “I’m really proud of her,” she said. “You have to be strong. You don’t know where you’re going to be tomorrow.”
By Monday, word had reached Ms. Rayan that her relatives had been killed as Israel bombed Gaza City. When I asked whom she had lost, Ms. Rayan replied: “All of them. There’s no one left.” Thousands of Palestinians are estimated to have been killed by Israeli airstrikes in Gaza in recent weeks. ... Ms. Rayan said those killed in her family included six cousins and their children, who were as young as 2. Other relatives living abroad told her the cousins died beneath the rubble of their home.
As Ms. Rayan spoke, I saw Amira’s young face. I wondered how long this bright, spirited Queens kid could keep her fire for what I believe John Lewis would have called “good trouble” in a world that seems hellbent on snuffing it out. I worried about how she would finish her college applications.
“I have a lot of angry emotions at the ones in charge,” Amira told me days ago, speaking for so many human beings around the world in this dark time.
I thought about what I had seen over that weekend in Brooklyn, where thousands gathered in the Bay Ridge neighborhood, the home of many Arab Americans, to protest the war. In this part of the city, people of many backgrounds carried Palestinian flags through the street. Large groups of police officers gathered on every corner, watching them go by.
The crowd was large but quiet when Amira waded in, picked up her megaphone and called for Palestinian liberation. In an instant, thousands of New Yorkers repeated after her, filling the Brooklyn street with their voices. My prayer is that Amira’s generation of leaders will leave a better world than the one it has been given.
i believe she recently got her gold award (which, if youve never been in girl scouts, is really difficult - way more difficult than eagle scout awards), or is almost done with it. i hope she's doing okay.
this article (no paywall) about muslim and palestinian girl scout troops in socal also almost made me cry (it's like 2am). i really really hope all these kids are doing alright. god. they and their families all deserve so much better
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