#LOOK AT HER LOOK HOW COOL AND CHILL SHE IS

[mysunshinetemptress]

Glitter In The Air

Grace Clinton x Y/n Albert

Warnings: Y/n snaps, feeling lost, internal homophobia, not my best but not my worst so…

You try, really you do but Grace either doesn’t notice you like want to be left alone or she simply doesn’t care.

“So what you doing this weekend.” Grace asks a hint of hope in her voice, you’ve shot her down every time she’s asked you to hang out.

You’ve been shutting her down for months, simply stating you have plans with someone else. You don’t you couldn’t you only talk to a handful of players and even it’s a push for you to do that.

But Grace has finally worn you down, you can’t take how her voice sounds so heartbroken and her shoulders sag in defeat her eyes loose their little spark and the way she says her Gs after always sound so sad.

“Nothing.” You say quietly kicking the ball back to her, Grace poses momentarily you’ve never not had plans, she’s never gotten this far.

“Would you maybe want to hang out this weekend, we-you could come over to mine and just chill or we can go shopping or get food or the cinema.” Grace rattles off different things you both can do before realising she needs a response from you.

“Eh yeah your house sounds nice just chill.” You say nervously looking anywhere but at the older girl. Grace nods clearing her throat trying to remain cool as she practically vibrates with excitement. “Yeah perfect cool, Saturday work for you.” You nod “perfect my place at 5 I’ll order food we can just chill and watch a movie.”

You feel sick for the rest of the week , you and Grace alone in her house just the two of you, you curse yourself for not being strong enough to say no, but Grace is so kind and soft you can see it as she runs around your teammates swinging out of them laugh, everyone laughing with her.

As long as you don’t touch her and get her sick it should be ok, you’ll be ok.

You stand on her doorstep hand hovering over the doorbell, you could turn around and leave you think, text her telling her your sick, text her and tell her you fell down the stairs and broke your leg, don’t text her fake your death and move countries, no you can’t she’s to good for that and that’s mean you’re just two friends hanging out nothing more nothing less no need to be so dramatic.

Grace still steps forward to give you a hug every now and then but you always counteract with stepping back. She tries again today as she opens the door but the minute you flinch she stops and offers a sad smile hiding it quickly rubbing her neck and welcoming you in.

The air is tense and you hate it, its your fault. You hate the way the thought follows you through to the living room.

The air is so tense and Grace hates it, its her fault, she didn't mean to make you uncomfortable again, god why does she always make you uncomfortable, you hate hugs she knows this but you're so soft and quite and its all she can think about.

You are all she can think about.

The living room was cozy, bathed in the warm glow of late afternoon sunlight filtering through the curtains. A plush, inviting couch sat facing a large TV, and scattered cushions added to the relaxed atmosphere. Grace had clearly made an effort; the coffee table was clear of clutter, and a faint scent of vanilla filled the air. You perched on the edge of the couch, stiff and awkward, while Grace busied herself in the kitchen.

“Pizza okay?” she called out, her voice slightly strained.

“Yeah, fine,” you mumbled, your eyes fixed on the wall of pictures, arms wrapped around people you recognise as your teamates, her family and some of her friends. You could feel Grace’s gaze on you, and it made your skin crawl. You wished you could just melt into the cushions and disappear.

Grace returned with two cans of soda and a nervous smile. She sat at the opposite end of the couch, leaving a generous gap between you. The distance didn’t ease your discomfort; it only amplified it. You could practically hear the unspoken question hanging in the air: Why are you so uncomfortable?

The pizza arrived, and you ate in near silence, punctuated only by the occasional clinking of cans and the low hum of the TV playing a movie neither of them were really watching. You picked at your food, your appetite completely gone. Every time Grace glanced at you, you looked away, your heart pounding in your chest.

After they finished eating, Grace gathered the empty boxes and cans. When she returned, she hesitated before speaking. “Is everything alright?” she asked softly, her eyes filled with concern.

You shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah, fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” Grace persisted, her voice gentle. “You’ve been really quiet.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. The truth was a tangled mess of anxieties you couldn’t articulate. You didn’t want to hurt Grace, but you also couldn’t pretend everything was okay.

“It’s just…” you began, then trailed off, searching for the right words. “I’m not really good at this kind of thing.”

“This kind of thing?” Grace echoed, tilting her head slightly.

“Hanging out,” you clarified, feeling your cheeks flush. “Just the two of us. I… I don’t do it much.”

A flicker of understanding crossed Grace’s face. “Oh,” she said quietly. “I didn’t realize.”

Silence descended again, but this time it felt different. The tension hadn’t completely dissipated, but it had shifted, becoming less sharp, more… understanding.

“It’s okay,” Grace said finally, a small smile gracing her lips. “We don’t have to do anything. We can just… be.”

You looked at her then, really looked at her. Her eyes were warm and inviting, and for the first time that evening, you felt a glimmer of ease. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Grace picked up the remote and scrolled through the movie options. “How about a comedy?” she suggested. “Something light?”

You nodded, a small smile mirroring hers. As the movie started, you shifted slightly on the couch, closing the gap between you and Grace just a little. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant. It was a tentative step towards a connection you had been too afraid to make.

As the movie played, Grace occasionally offered quiet comments or chuckled at a funny scene. You found yourself relaxing, drawn into the shared experience. You were still nervous, still self-conscious, but the suffocating anxiety had begun to recede.

Towards the end of the movie, you felt a gentle weight on your shoulder, and the world seemed to collapse in on itsself. You jump throwing yourself away from the girl causing Graces body to fall sideways her head hitting the couch.

"I need to go, I-I'm sorry i-I-I'm so sorry" you stutter not giving the midfielder a second to respond as you race out the door.

You sit in the car unable to move, of course you had to mess it up, you and your sickness. Grace she-she's to good.

The slam of the front door echoed in the quiet house, leaving Grace momentarily stunned. She blinked, her head throbbing where it had connected with the couch. Disorientation quickly gave way to confusion, then a sinking feeling of dread. She sat up slowly, rubbing the back of her head, her eyes fixed on the now-empty doorway.

The image of you recoiling, your face contorted in a mixture of fear and panic, played on repeat in her mind. The mumbled apologies, the frantic escape – it was all a blur, a whirlwind of sudden, inexplicable terror.

Grace’s heart ached. She had thought, just for a moment, that things were finally starting to ease. She had felt you relax, seen the flicker of a smile on your face. And then… this.

She stood up, her legs feeling unsteady. The remnants of your shared evening – the half-eaten pizza, the discarded soda cans, the paused movie on the TV screen – seemed to mock her, a stark reminder of what had just happened.

Back in the car, you gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white. The image of Grace’s head snapping against the couch replayed in your mind, fueling the rising tide of panic within you. You had hurt her. You had scared her. You had ruined everything.

The word “sickness” echoed in your thoughts, a constant, nagging reminder of the invisible barrier that separated you from others. It wasn’t a physical illness, not in the traditional sense, but it was a sickness nonetheless, one that manifested in crippling anxiety and an inability to connect with people on a normal level.

You started the engine, your hands shaking so badly you almost stalled. As you drove home, tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You felt a profound sense of shame and self-loathing. You were a mess, a broken thing, incapable of even the simplest social interaction.

Meanwhile, back at Grace's house, she was trying to piece together what had just happened. She replayed the evening in her mind, searching for any clue, any indication that you were about to react so drastically. She remembered the moment your eyes had widened, the way you had flinched away from her touch as if burned.

A chilling thought crept into her mind: Did I do something wrong?

She had been so careful, so mindful of your discomfort. She had avoided touching you, given you space, tried to create a relaxed and comfortable atmosphere. But clearly, it hadn’t been enough.

Grace felt a wave of self-doubt wash over her. Maybe she was just bad at this. Maybe she was too forward, too eager. Maybe she was just… too much.

She picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over your contact. She wanted to text you, to ask you what had happened, to offer her apologies if she had somehow overstepped a boundary. But she hesitated. What if she made things worse? What if she pushed you further away?

She sighed, placing her phone back on the coffee table. She felt lost and confused, adrift in a sea of unanswered questions.

The following days were strained. You avoided Grace at practice, keeping your distance, your eyes fixed on the ground whenever she was near. Grace, in turn, respected your space, but her eyes often followed you, filled with a mixture of concern and sadness.

The team noticed the shift in your dynamic. Whispers circulated, curious glances were exchanged. The easy camaraderie that usually characterized their practices felt muted, replaced by an unspoken tension.

One afternoon, after practice, Grace approached you as you were packing your bag. You tensed, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Can we talk?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, your eyes darting around the changing room, searching for an escape. But there was nowhere to run.

You nodded slowly, your throat tight with anxiety. Grace led you to a quiet corner of the gym, away from the prying eyes and ears of your teammates.

“What happened Saturday?” she asked, her voice gentle but firm. “You… you seemed really scared.”

You bit your lip, unable to meet her gaze. The words caught in your throat, refusing to come out.

Grace waited patiently, giving you the time you needed. Finally, you managed to stammer out a response.

“I… I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to… I just… I panicked.”

“Panicked?” Grace echoed, her brow furrowed. “Why?”

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain the tangled mess of anxieties that plagued you, trying to come up with another lie.

"I-Why did you that-why did you put your head there." You felt your stomach twist with unease as you began to turn everything on her, make it her fault, push her away.

The question hung in the air, sharp and accusatory. Grace blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in your demeanor. The gentle concern in her eyes was replaced by a flicker of confusion, then hurt.

“I… I didn’t mean to scare you,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “I thought… we were having a nice time.”

“Well you thought wrong,” you snapped, your voice rising in volume. You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, a torrent of pent-up anxiety and self-loathing disguised as anger. “You just… invaded my space. You didn’t even ask.”

“I…” Grace trailed off, her eyes welling up with tears. She felt a lump forming in her throat, making it difficult to speak. “I’m sorry,” she managed to whisper, her voice trembling. “I didn’t realize it would make you so upset.”

“Clearly,” you retorted, turning away from her. You couldn’t bear to see the pain in her eyes. It was a mirror reflecting your own brokenness, and you hated it.

Grace stood there for a moment, her heart aching. She wanted to reach out to you, to tell you that it was okay, that she understood. But the wall you had erected between you was too high, too impenetrable.

She turned and walked away, her shoulders slumped in defeat. The quiet corner of the gym suddenly felt colder, emptier.

You watched her go, a hollow feeling settling in your chest. You had pushed her away, just as you had pushed everyone else away. You were alone again, just as you always were.

But this time, it felt different. This time, there was a pang of regret, a flicker of doubt. Had you gone too far? Had you ruined any chance of a real connection with Grace?

[taurasiscntybun]

Bite Bargains pt two

-DARK ROMANCE minors dni

-Vampire DT x femme reader

-Warnings: Dubious consent, blood kink (duh), oral, power dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, blood drinking, asphyxiation play 

-3.3k words

-literally AS ALWAYS thanks to my editor @taurasicomplex

Reader pov

The rum filled drink was making you less nervous but it wasn’t helping with your arousal, somehow basketball was doing more for you than most foreplay; and the thought of meeting Diana after the game. You glance to your right to the bench and startle to find Diana looking directly at you. When she notices you staring she doesn’t look away but instead meets your eyes, her gaze piercing and unmistakable. You look away first, turning your attention back to your glass but her brown eyes are seared in your mind, she had looked almost animalistic, like a panther ready to pounce. A thrill runs up your spine, you didn’t know what this meeting after the game would entail but based on her looks you were beginning to believe she’d be giving you a lot more than just her jersey.

The rest of the quarter goes by in a blur and every so often you find Diana looking at you. While you’re excited by the idea of her wanting you; it was the way she was looking at you, like she was stalking you down. Anxiety mingled with excitement when you caught her staring again. Finally the buzzer sounded and it was halftime; all the players started to head towards the tunnel except Diana. She stopped in front of you, looming over you with a grin on her face, the smile not quite meeting her eyes.

“Meet me over by the tunnel in three minutes.” Diana said softly and bent down next to you, she ran her cool lips against your neck and groaned.

��You smell so good angel, tunnel in three minutes, don’t disappoint me.” She straightened and ran towards the away tunnel. You watched her run away, your whole body buzzing with indecision, you stood up, realizing if you wanted to get to the tunnel in three minutes you needed to start moving now. You quickly sucked down the rest of your cocktail and grabbed your purse, starting to push through the crowd.

“I can’t not go like that would be crazy right?” You mutter to yourself and straighten your skirt as someone bumps into you, still slowly making your way towards the tunnel.

“I mean if she wants like a quickie that’s fine, obviously I want that duh, fuck chill.” You continue to mumble as you part the crowd, finally you reach the away tunnel. As you approach you're stopped by a security guard but Diana appears from seemingly nowhere to let you through.

”Fuck, took you long enough angel.” She says in a low tone and rolls her neck before motioning for you to follow her.

”That couldn’t have been more than three minutes, that’s how long it took me to walk from my seat.” You protest and hurry after her.

”Halftime is fifteen minutes, we’re down to ten now.” Diana states and ducks into the shower room.

“Uh ok?” You pick up the pace and slip into the room after her.

“Everyone is in the locker room, no one is here.” She motions around the room and points to a bench against the wall.

“Sit there and pull up your skirt.” Her tone is matter of fact, as if she already knows you will.

”I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t play dumb pet, why do you think I brought you here? Go sit on the fucking bench so I can eat your fucking cunt, now.” Her tone borders on a growl and there’s a moment of indecision, she notices.

”You can either walk over there or I will drag you over there, do you understand?”

You suck in a breath at her words and move across the room to the bench, already hiking your skirt up.

“You can’t just make me.” You huff and sit down on the bench, instantly she’s in front of you, her actions so quiet you didn't know she had moved.

“I don’t have to make you, pet, look at you on the bench with your skirt up and pussy dripping like a good little girl.” Diana’s finger traces your jaw before she drops to her knees in front of you, harshly parting your thighs.

“No wait Diana.” You fight against her grip to close your legs and she growls.

“What? What do you want?” She asks through clenched teeth, letting her grip on your thighs go slack.

“I can’t…you can’t…no I” You stutter and try to stand up, you glance down and see her large hand sprawled over your torso, she pushes you back on the bench; the move powerful but seemingly easy for her, her arm barely twitching.

“You can, and you will, now shut up, we have nine minutes now.” Diana keeps one hand on your torso, pressing you into the bench, her fingers flexing in the scratchy polyester jersey. She roughly parts your thighs with her other hand and her body.

“Mmm fuck, you smell so fucking good, I couldn’t think on the court, I needed you in my mouth, Im so hungry.” Diana groaned and kissed up your thigh, her hand now searching your torso for the end of the jersey. You lift up from the bench and untuck the large jersey from your skirt, pulling it up a bit more in the process. Instantly after you're done she’s pressing you into the bench again, her hand wandering under your jersey now. Her mouth finds your pantie covered core and you moan at her surprisingly cool breath against you. You start to lift up to let her pull your panties down but she firmly pressed you back down. You feel a sharp tug and hear a rip then gasp at the cool air on your exposed cunt.

”Fuck how did you?” You gasp as her tongue runs up your slit.

“Flimsy things, I guess I have sharp teeth.” Diana says against your cunt and you can feel the chilled huff of her laugh on your heated skin. Her hand under your shirt reaches your bra, she lifts the underwire, lifting the garment off your tits to settle around your neck. She quickly covers one of your exposed breast with her hand, her large palm scraping across your nipple.

”Oh god!” You exclaim as her mouth finds you again, her tongue ravishing your clit.

“So good pet, so pretty writhing under me, so needy even though you said no. If we had more time I’d punish you for lying.” She groans against your cunt, the vibrations of her words sending sparks of pleasure through you.

“W…why?” You stutter and rock your hips against her face.

“I’m hungry and you are delicious, I knew you would be, I could smell your sweet arousal pet.” She sucks at your entrance eliciting a moan from you.

“Fuck, seven minutes, you’re going to cum in the next minute.” Diana pulls your legs over her arms and reaches her hands up to grope your tits. The full weight of your legs on her arms not even bothering her. The new angle lifts your hips and Diana eagerly takes advantage of you spread wider. She laps at your pussy, alternating between sucking on your clit and thrusting her tongue in your core.

“Oh fuck! Diana!” You moan and grind against her face, your orgasm fast approaching. She moans and focuses all her attention on your clit, sucking and licking.

“Six minutes, cum on my face pet.” Diana orders, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, her brown irises almost seeming to glow in dim lights of the empty shower room. Your breath hitches as you reach your peak and you feel a sudden sharp pain.

“What the fu-“ You start to protest but it turns into a moan; a fire spreading through your body. You could feel pleasure everywhere, your head clouded with lust. Your impending orgasm only seemed to grow, Diana’s sucking on your clit relentless. Finally you break, your hips jerk and your pussy spasms as your orgasm slams through you. Your whole body is aflame, your whole being throbbing with need.

“Diana.” You whine and she just groans in response, her breath slow and irregular as she continues to feast on you, her eyes rolling back in her head. You tremble as the torturous pleasure continues. Diana stops for a moment and locks eyes with you again. Her hand leaves your breast to grip your chin, forcing you to look at the top half of her face peaking from between your thighs.

“We have four minutes, you’re going to cum in under two, do you understand me pet?” Her grip on your chin turns painful and you whimper in response.

“We don’t have time for this! I asked you a fucking question, you’re going to cum in the next two minutes right pet?” She shakes your head side to side slowly as she speaks. You let out a whimper, accepting the nickname.

“Y…yes I’m going to cum in the next two minutes.” You pant out and she releases your chin. Before you can relax she smacks your cheek hard enough to leave a mark then turns her attention back to your tits.

“My…god… fuck!” You cry out.

Diana’s pov

“Mmm fuck, you smell so fucking good, I couldn’t think on the court, I needed you in my mouth, Im so hungry.” Diana moaned against her newest pet, she was the sweetest she’d tasted, indescribably addictive.

“Fuck, seven minutes, you’re going to cum in the next minute.” Diana maneuvers her around. She was still struggling a little bit. That was no good, Diana needed her at the height of pleasure, putty in her arms. She reaches up to grab her little pet’s tits, the warm tender flesh under Diana’s hands making her own core ache.

“Oh fuck! Diana!” She cries, Diana is greeted with another flood of arousal from her throbbing pussy. Diana focuses all her attention on her clit, making sure it is nice and swollen, flushed with arousal for when she bites.

“Six minutes, cum on my face pet.” Diana orders, her own body trembling with need and hunger. Her eyes shined with an unnatural glow. She looks up at her human, letting her see the predator in her as she devours her. Diana hears her breath hitch and she knows it’s her time to strike. Diana sucks her clit into her mouth and sinks her fangs into the engorged folds around it. The first taste of blood hits Diana’s tongue and she’s in ecstasy. The flavors of arousal and blood mixing on her taste buds. It was everything she needed.

“What the fu-“ Her pet started to protest, no doubt questioning the pain but she quickly succumbs to pleasure. Diana sucks harder, her tongue darting down to lap up her release. She groans low in her throat at the mingling tastes. Diana didn’t know if all vampires enjoyed the taste of cum as much as she did but to her it was nearly as good as blood; and mixed with blood was the flavor Diana was always craving. She knows her venom is coursing through her sweet little human right now, pure orgasmic bliss would be spreading like wildfire.

“Diana” She whines and Diana groans at the little noises she makes. Diana dips her head down a bit to gather more of her release then sucks a mouthful of blood. She can feel it in her very bones and her eyes roll back in her head. She struggles to remember to breath, she still needed to appear human to her little pet but she was so lost in her feast she forgot. Diana feels her start to tremble and pull away and she grabs her chin, forcing her to look in her ethereal eyes. She kept the lower half of her face covered, not sure if there was blood. She was pressed for time but she couldn’t get enough, and another orgasm wouldn’t take that long.

“We have four minutes, you’re going to cum in under two, do you understand me pet?” Diana squeezes her chin harder, her cold fingers digging into her soft cheeks. She needed another orgasm, she needed to taste her sweet little human again.

“We don’t have time for this! I asked you a fucking question, you’re going to cum in the next two minutes right pet?” Diana shook her head side to side and snarled, she wanted her submission.

“Y…yes I’m going to cum in the next two minutes.” Diana all at once releases her face, she gives her a smack as a reminder. She fondles her tits, rolling her nipples between her fingers and tugging gently. Her pet is close again, Diana can feel her quivering on her tongue. She elongates her fangs waiting for the precipice.

“My…god… fuck!” She cries out, dangerously loud. Diana strikes, sinking her fangs in her sweet human’s pussy. She maneuvers her legs back over her shoulders and moves her hands from her tits to the bra; yanked up in disarray and settled against her pets neck. Diana grabs the fabric and pulls it, causing the fabric to cut off her airways, her little whimpering noises sending shivers down her spine.

“Such a good girl for me, you taste so good.” Diana coos as she sucks in another mouthful of blood. Her pet looks down at her wide eyed, her mouth opening and closing like a fish as she tried to draw air. She stared for a moment, how easy it would be, pull the bra a little tighter, so fragile. She releases her grip on the bra and she gasps beneath her. Diana takes one last long draw of blood, the slight pang of fear mixing with the heady arousal.

“I think our times up for now Angel, meet me after the game; I haven’t forgotten about your jersey.” She says, trying to compose herself. The taste of blood has soothed the gnawing hunger but now there was something almost as bad. She wanted this girl, her blood was intoxicating.

She’s thankful for the black warm up shirt and she wipes her face on the sleeve before looking up at her sweet little pet.

“Now hurry back to your seat, the second half is about to start.” Diana drolled, standing up from the floor and stretching a few times, she felt better than she had in a long time.

Reader pov

You watch baffled as Diana easily composes herself, and leans against the wall.

“Oh uh yeah is there a bathroom I can check in real quick?” You stand up on unstable legs, before you can fall Diana has wrapped her hand around your arm, you look down at her hand in disbelief, she’d moved so silently and quickly, she’d been by the door moments ago.

“This is the shower room, there’s probably a mirror angel. I have to get back. Remember after the game though.” She pulls you against her and buries her face in your neck, inhaling your scent with a groan; then hurries from the room.

“What the fuck?” You mutter and wander over to a vanity to stare at your reflection. Your makeup is ruined and hair is mussed but a little soap and water will fix it. You feel bad about going through anyone’s shower bag but surely one of the girls had makeup remover. You picked the girliest looking bag and your assumption was correct as you pull out a pack of makeup wipes. You make quick work of your clean up, cleaning your face and between your thighs. Your underwear was ruined however, now you’d have to be even more careful in your skirt. Satisfied with your appearance you slip out of the room and search for a security guard. The second half of the game is already underway, you can hear the cheers and rumblings of the crowd as you walk through the player hallway, finally you spot a security guard. You suck in a breath and roll your shoulders, ready to act.

”Excuse me, excuse sir please” You called, pitching your voice a little higher and making it a little slower. The guard turned around, obviously shocked to see you.

”Maam this area is off limits Im going to have to ask you to leave.” He says and takes a step towards you.

”Ugh I figured that out, Im trying to figure out how to leave! I was trying to get to the bathroom and there was this long line and then some girl said she knew another bathroom and then we walked down all these hallways; I come out of the bathroom and she’s gone! Now I’m missing the game, wandering around these stupid tunnels.” You walk towards him and look up at him with puppy dog eyes, your voice purposefully needy.

“Oh Im so sorry that happened to you maam, of course, do you know your seat number?” He asks and lightly touches your arm, men loved playing a white knight, he’d walk you right to your seat if you acted distressed enough.

“Oh the seats! I paid an arm and a leg for them, they’re court side, I saved up for months and now I’m missing the game.” You whine and pull out your phone to look at your ticket. You flip it around to show him.

”Im between the visitors bench and the scorers table.” You add helpfully and he nods.

”Of course, Ill get you back there in just a second. We’re gonna take the employee route since its faster and the game is going on so uh watch your step please cause I don’t want to get in trouble.” His too big ears redden at his words and you take a moment to study him, his too tall, all gangly limbs. He clearly got the security job because he was so tall; he was young too, probably only right out of high school with his dorky glasses and big ears.

“I promise I’ll be extra careful. Thank you again.” You gush and follow him.

”Of course, I know what it’s like to save up money for something, I dont want you to miss it.” He leads you through some tunnels under the court and end up by the vip bar on the floor.

“Wow I think I got it from here thank you so much?…”

”Peter, uh my names peter.” He says shyly and you pat his arm.

”Well thank you Peter.” You say and watch him walk back to the tunnels. Deciding to take advantage of the vip area you accidentally wound up in, you head to the bar.

The bartender looks at you and smiles.

“Things on that menu are complimentary and things on this menu are an up charge, I just need to see your ID sweetheart.” She says in a warm tone. You dig through your purse and produce your wallet handing your id over to her.

”Complimentary as in like free?” You ask and try to cover your shock, you knew vip was fancy but damn. The bartender just nods and hands your id back to you.

“Uh I’ll have two Bahama Mamas please.” You tell her and pull out a five for the tip jar. Behind you you heard the crowd roaring and knew someone from phoenix was shooting a free throw. You were almost nervous to watch the game; to see Diana out there playing with traces of you in her mouth, on her skin. To return to your seat and watch basketball like everything was normal and she didn't just make you cum twice in ten minutes was impossible to you. After a few moments the bartender sits your drinks on the counter. You pull out another five for the tip jar.

”Listen Im gonna slip out of vip and please don’t say anything, its a really long story.” You drop the money in the jar and grab the drinks, hoisting your pocketbook further up your shoulder so you can double fist the cocktails. As you slip by the ropes you look back and the bartender gives you a wink.

[justkeepshippingg]

Cherry bomb Part 6: a Caitvi Hate fuck fanfic

She wants that goodness as deep inside of her as she can get. Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five The final chapter <3

The air is thick, hazy.

Vi grips either side of the small pedestal sink in front of her. She stares forward, her eyes unflinching, and meets Cait’s gaze. It’s just as hard and cool as hers. The only suggestion that she’s about to lose it is the way her crooked teeth sink down on her bottom lip. At the base of her spine, Vi feels Cait tilt her hips just a touch, pressing the strap to her skin. It’s cold, it’s silicone, it’s not Cait and she knows it, but fuck if Vi doesn’t feel like it is Cait, especially since it’s wet from all of Vi’s sucking.

She did a damned good job, if she says so herself.

Cait doesn’t touch Vi’s hips. Instead, she brings one hand to the side of the sink, around Vi’s body, her forearm just barely brushing Vi’s bare skin, and brings her other to Vi’s jaw. She presses, and Vi’s mouth falls open. They stare at each other in the mirror. The jagged cracks – the result of one of her drunken evenings, bite her, she’s not sorry about it, you’d also start punching random shit if your lesbian situationship imploded – reflect their faces right back at them. If Vi tilts her head, one Caitlin becomes a dozen. Sharp blue eyes, sharp glass. A thumb on her chin. A thumb at her lips. Vi opens her mouth and sucks. She hears Cait’s inhale and feels it against her neck: the suck of air. The suck of skin into waiting mouth. The press of Vi’s hips back, like, can we get on with this already?

Cait shakes her head, her dark hair a blue sheet as it falls over Vi’s shoulder. It’s longer than it used to be. How long had it been since their breakup? Vi’s so confused between her regular alcohol-fueled hallucinations of her hottest, cruelest ex and the jabs she’s taken right to the temple that she has no idea if it’s been weeks or months. It’s been enough time for her hair to grow, though. Vi’s own undercut could use a fresh shave.

Cait pops her thumb out of Vi’s mouth and brings it there, to the prickle of pink hair making a break from Vi’s scalp.

“Are you going to give me a shampoo, too, princess? Or are you going to hurry up and fuck me already?” Vi’s words are razor sharp, but it’s just because she’s desperate.

Cait clearly knows it. She just smiles and drops her head to the curve of Vi’s neck. Fuck she’s tall. She’s like this big, lanky, pale-skinned demon, perching on Vi’s shoulder and refusing to fuck her.

If she’s going to hang out with the ghost-demon-girl who broke her heart, the least Vi deserves is a few more orgasms.

“Fine,” Cait says. “But you have to earn it.” Her voice, soft and haughty. 

“What else do I need to do?” Vi goes to turn, but Cait’s hands refuse the motion, pinning her to the sink. Vi moans at the feel of the saliva-damp cock at her back. “Did I not make those long ass legs of yours shake enough already, commander?”

It’s Cait’s turn to moan. She sinks her forehead to Vi’s neck and inhales, exhales, pauses. She’s gathering herself.

And fuck it’s hot.

“Touch yourself,” Cait says, collected. Her chin returns to the crook of Vi’s neck. “Fuck yourself, and then I’ll fuck you.”

Vi feels a blush run hot from her cheeks to her tits. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Cait returns. “You’ve been fucking women all over town. I know there’s no chance you weren’t one of them.” She risks a thrust against Vi’s ass, and Vi groans, the sound guttural and needy and a bit pathetic.

“Fuck. Cait,” she whines.

“After all,” Cait says. “I know they weren’t making you come the way you like. Only you can do that.” She pauses. She licks a thick line up the tattoos marking Vi’s shoulder, and the chill of her spit makes Vi shudder. “And me, of course.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Vi cusses.

“Am I wrong?” Cait offers a faux-offended look in the mirror. A dozen Caitlyns have the gall to look apologetic.

“You…” Vi feels it then: the brush of the head of the dildo at her opening. “Fuck.”

“Tell me the truth,” Cait says. “Were you coming courtesy of the women of the under city while you were really thinking about me?”

Memories: flashes of Cait intermingled with blondes and brunettes and dark haired women who were surely beautiful but impossible for Vi to really see with Cait’s face and body and the swish of her blue hair in that flirty ass ponytail impressed forever into her psyche. 

“Of course I was, Cupcake,” Vi pants. “As if you’ve ever not been in my brain. You’re this evil fucking demon girl I just can’t seem to get rid of.” She laughs, and it’s fake and mean. For some reason their first kiss pops up in her brain and she thinks of how sweet it was and can’t believe they’re the same women. “Maybe I need an exorcism.”

Cait’s eyes turn damp in the mirror. Vi considers turning around to comfort her, but changes her mind. She doesn’t deserve comfort. Neither of them do.

“Are you going to fuck yourself, Vi?” Cait says. “Or should I head back home, now?”

The thought of Cait triggers something harsh inside of Vi. She doesn’t want Cait to leave. She doesn’t want her to ever leave. Vi’s eyes comb over Cait’s body in the mirror, and then they pan around her bedroom. Sad. Empty. Trashy. The room of a trash human. The space of someone who hates themselves. She wants Cait. She wants Cait.

She doesn’t want Cait to go.

“Fuck,” Vi says, her hand lowering down her body, “you.” Her hand passes her abs, the thick happy trail of messy pink hair, and she can’t help the flinch. Cait’s eyes go wide. “I need you,” Vi says, hand pushing through her folds, “to know,” she cusses, three fingers over her clit now, “I hate you,” she says, her eyes locked on Cait’s and Cait’s eyes locked on her cunt. And then she can’t talk anymore, because she’s a little busy, alright? Her hand is a mess tangled in dripping wet pink curls.

She shoves at herself, hard.

Little circles aren’t her jam, sweet little circles have never gotten her there, no, she just needs hot, wet flesh to hump, to grind herself against something unmoving. Vi’s version of fucking herself is more like beating her own cunt up than it is giving herself something gentle and calming and loving. She pushes her cunt at her fist and thrusts, and as white light shoots out of her core, she hears Cait’s words falling at her ear, her lips wet on the curve of her neck, a “you’re so good” and a “fuck, Vi,” and a “you are so beautiful, what a very, very good boy” and other sweet crooning that makes Vi feel like she might cry before she comes, or maybe she’s about to come? Is she sweating or coming? Is she sweating or crying?

Who fucking knows.

All she knows is this: her thighs are aching and on fire and she’s humping the fuck out of her own fist while her evil ex girlfriend teases her asshole with a massive blue strap and she doesn’t want this to end, she doesn’t want Cait to stop, but then she hears “I’ve got you baby, I’m not going to stop,” and she isn’t sure what she’s said out loud and what she hasn’t, but she’s too locked in to care. Vi grunts and groans and feels Cait’s hand on her throat then and she says the word “fuck” probaby thirty times in various pitches and then that white light is hotter and brighter than it’s been in months and she’s coming, she’s coming, she’s coming and Cait is right there at her back, hot, solid flesh to support her and keep her from drowning in all of it, the feeling of opening up and baring it all for a woman she isn’t sure if she’s madly in love with or wants to beat the shit out of.

“Cait,” Vi cries. She is crying, then. Fuck. A sob rips through her throat.

“Violet,” Cait says, and Vi snaps.

“Do not comfort me,” she says. “Just,” she wipes at her eyes with fists. “Fuck me. You came here to fuck me, so fuck me.”

The thing about their love is that it isn’t going anywhere. The thing is, Vi will never forget the first time she saw Cait’s eyes flash at her. She is never going to forget the first time she saw her pull her top over her head and reveal herself. And it wasn’t just her incredible tits or her soft tummy or the way that a single glance at Cait’s naked body made Vi wetter than she’d ever been. It was that this person, Cait as a whole, was being naked, with her. Vi knows she’s not worth anything. There are days she really isn’t sure why she’s still here. There are days where the only touch she feels from another human is the feeling of a stranger’s nails pulling her head closer to their own cunt or a fist decking her in the ribcage. Some days, the only feelings she has are bad ones. Cruel ones. Words so spiteful she isn’t sure where they come from. Maybe inside of Vi there’s just a well of cruelty, a spot that once could have been love or something kind but instead is tarnished with years of violence birthed and blood pilled and bones snapped.

The worst part is that she knows Caitlyn knows it. Vi let someone know it, and then they left. And there’s nothing she can do about it.

But letting Cait fuck her… it feels a little like winning. Like getting something back. Like admitting that, yes, Vi might be a smudged pool of slime, but this woman, this glittering, golden princess from a place filled with people who won’t even look Vi in the eye, wants her. Wants to be deep inside of her. Maybe not emotionally anymore – but physically.

She wants that goodness as deep inside of her as she can get.

Cait meets her eyes in the mirror. Vi can read her mind, and she doesn’t want to. She can almost hear the I love you, I’m sorry in her mind. Vi wants it to go away. 

“If you don’t fuck me right now,” Vi says, “I’m going to scream.”

“If that’s what you need,” Cait says, “Who am I to deny you any longer?”

Vi widens her legs. She bends her knees. She shifts her hips up and back. And she waits, hole open and dripping, to be used, to be taken, to be filled with the shock of utter goodness her body can’t create on its own. 

A tease. A press. An ache. A thrust.

“Fuck,” Vi moans, at the same time Cait says, “Oh my god, Violet,” her words rolling on a cry.

Cait thrusts forward, Vi thrusts back, and they shudder, Vi trembling beneath Caitlyn. 

“You’re taking me so well,” Cait says. She presses kisses all over Vi’s undercut. “You must be so full, baby, are you so full?”

“Fuck, Cait,” Vi whines. She shifts her thick thighs into each other, but can’t get the friction she needs; her legs are too fucking drenched. 

“What do you need, my baby?” Caitlyn croons.

“Please,” Vi says. “Just fucking rail me.”

Cait doesn’t hesitate. She bends Vi over and plants one of her own feet at the edge of the sink. With the leverage, she’s able to pound harder into Vi, each press shoving her further and further inside of Vi. Vi isn’t sure how she even has more space for Cait to conquer, but she does it, carving out her very own home inside of Vi’s soaking entrance. 

“How’s this?” Cait says, and Vi can hear the fucking smile on her perfect princess lips. “How’s this for my handsome girl?” 

“That’s it,” Vi says. “Fuck. Fuck. FUCK, Cait.” 

The air is thick, hazy. Cait moans, pushing forward and pulling Vi back by her tits and her ass and the flesh of her hips. Vi is gone, her orgasm so feverish and unyielding that she thinks she might be dying. And if she is going to die, well, she knows what she wants to see. She opens her eyes, and her gray ones meet blue ones, and that’s all she needs to, finally, fall apart. 

[beersangel]

The silver lining ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

pairing: quiteguy!matt x smart overachiever reader.

content warnings: honestly just pure fluff and angst.

summary: Aven Brooks, a driven overachiever, and Matt Sturniolo, a quiet, reserved guy with a reputation for being rude, are paired for a school project. While Aven is open to working together, Matt is reluctant, but their forced partnership begins to reveal there’s more to each of them than meets the eye.

click here for part 1

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

After a long, restless night of flipping through her textbooks and scribbling notes, Aven dragged herself to school the next morning, dark circles faintly visible under the concealer she hastily applied. By the time the last bell rang, signaling the end of classes, she was running on fumes.

As usual, she found Dakota and Courtney waiting for her by her locker. The three of them fell into step together, heading toward the parking lot.

“Okay, so,” Courtney started, shifting her bag onto her shoulder, “are we doing pizza tonight or what? I am starving.”

Aven gave a half-smile, shaking her head. “Can’t. I have to meet up with Matt Sturniolo for this project Miss Marshall assigned. She paired us up.”

Courtney’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open in exaggerated disbelief. “Matt Sturniolo? The kid who doesn’t talk to anyone? How’d that happen?”

Aven shrugged, while Dakota laughed. “You know, I think I’ve met his brother Nick before. He’s friends with one of my cousins. He’s pretty chill.”

“Well, let’s hope the same can be said about Matt,” Aven said, stifling a yawn.

“Good luck,” Courtney teased. “Text us if he says more than ten words.”

The three shared a laugh before parting ways. Dakota and Courtney headed home while Aven made her way to the library, her bag feeling heavier than usual.

When she stepped inside, she was surprised to see Matt already seated at a corner table, flipping through a notebook. He didn’t look up as she approached.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, dropping her bag onto the chair beside him.

Matt gave her a brief glance and muttered, “You’re late.”

Aven blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t think you’d get here before me.”

“Clearly,” he replied flatly, turning back to his notes. “Let’s just get started.”

Aven bit back a retort, choosing instead to sit down and pull out her laptop. They dove into their work, choosing a topic after a brief, slightly tense discussion.

As they worked in silence, Matt’s grumpiness became more apparent. When Aven accidentally bumped the table, causing his pen to roll off, he sighed loudly.

“Sorry,” Aven said quickly, reaching to pick it up, he silently snatched the pen back before she can.

About halfway through, Aven’s exhaustion started catching up to her. Her eyes grew heavy, and she blinked rapidly, trying to stay focused. She leaned on her hand, fighting the pull of sleep, but it was a losing battle. From across the table, Matt glanced up, his brow furrowing slightly. He wasn’t concerned, but he couldn’t help but notice how worn out she looked. The tiny bit of makeup she had on didn’t fully hide the fatigue, and the way she occasionally spaced out confirmed it.

Matt cleared his throat sharply.

“You good?” he asked, his tone curt.

Aven’s eyes snapped up to his, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, yeah. Just… tired.”

“No kidding. You look like you’ve been awake for a week.” He says.

“I’m fine,” Aven insisted, though her voice wavered. She didn’t think it was noticeable; her closest friends hadn't noticed, so how did he?

“Sure, whatever,” he muttered, turning back to his book.

By the time they wrapped up, they packed their things in silence and exited the library together, the cool evening air hitting them as they stepped outside.

Aven turned to head to her car, but Matt’s voice stopped her.

“Hey, Brooks,” he called out.

She turned back, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Matt hesitated for a split second, then said, “Get some sleep. You look like a zombie.” Without waiting for a response, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked off.

Aven stood there, stunned. Matt, on the other hand, was already halfway to his car, silently questioning himself. What the hell made me say that?

Aven stared after Matt, his words lingering in her mind. She couldn’t tell if she was annoyed by his bluntness or oddly touched by the fact that he’d noticed. Shaking her head, she unlocked her car and slid into the driver’s seat, replaying their awkward exchange as she drove home.

By the time she walked through the front door, the exhaustion hit her full force. She dumped her bag by the couch and collapsed onto it, staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet, her mom out for the evening, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

“Get some sleep. You look like a zombie.”

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Why do I care what he thinks?” she muttered to herself, but a tiny part of her knew it wasn’t the words themselves—it was the way he said them, like he’d noticed something no one else had.

With a sigh, she dragged herself to her room and set an alarm, promising herself she’d get at least six hours of rest before she has to wake up to work on the shitload of work she has.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

writer’s note: part 2! hope you enjoyed 💗!

- 💌

[adelaidedrubman]

— ZELINE LOMBARD. too blessed by savas to be stressed. just kidding she’s stressed out by absolutely everything.

so um. my endlessly kind and incredible friend and best dm a girl could dream of @unholymilf decided to come for my life on the holiest of days by commissioning the wonderfully and incredibly talented @derelictheretic to bring my chronically on edge tiefling paladin girlie from our campaign to life! i am just absolutely stunned to have received this and have been staring at it all morning. she looks sooooo chill and calm and normcore, and in such beautiful detail! thank you both so much, i will treasure this forever.

[dirtytransmasc]

I think I need MelVik connecting when Viktor was on his sick bed. they had been amicable before, maybe a little more than that due to their connection through Jayce and her presence around Hextech and such. but they weren't entirely friends. not yet.

and she goes to see him. perhaps she feels a tinge of guilt at assuming the worst about Jayce, or her bleeding heart makes her feel responsible for keeping Jayce out of the lab when Viktor had needed him. maybe Jayce needs to step out for a moment, and she soothes his worry by promising to sit with Viktor. maybe she just wants to be closer to the man that's so painfully important to the one she loves, wants to befriend him, wants to know him, all before it's far too late.

maybe it's a little bit of each.

but she goes to see him. she sits in the chair that Jayce has nearly worn a hole through, and keeps a semi-awkward distance between them, not knowing what is too close and too far.

this man is dying. he is dying and he has accepted that. he looks like a corpse. cold emanates off of him. he is something she doesn't fully understand.

she doesn't know how to approach.

but she does.

she greets softly and speaks softly and hesitates to touch, but rests a hand over Viktor's and feels how cold he is, even as a sickly warmth brews in his bones, leeching the warmth from his skin and the energy from his body.

he seems surprised she's there. it feels out of place. like the song and dance of their dynamic has shifted, and now he needs to relearn the steps. and now this is a dance of two, not three.

she will tell Viktor, in enough detail to be understood and not enough to be awkward, where Jayce was. because it feels right to confess. it's not an apology, but the avoidance of keeping something like a secret from a dying man.

Viktor will probably just nod and say something self deprecating, because what else do you say when your body is already making a joke of itself? before assuring her that Jayce is not his keeper, that she is not to blame, but even that comes off as some twisted attempt at humor. sue him for being sardonic as he lay dying.

but unlike Jayce, who will cringe at the jokes, she will hide a smile behind her fingers, muffling a soft, if not saddened, chuckle in her palm.

Viktor's eyes will light up ever so slightly.

she'll feel awkward once more. should she have laughed? was this playing into a complex? was this right of her?

Viktor will smile weakly.

she'll feel a little less awkward.

she will realize Viktor needs someone to laugh with. that Jayce, bless his soul, cannot be that person for Viktor. his worry has brewed too long. it's too strong.

but maybe a fresh face like Mel's can be there to smile when Jayce cannot. will laugh when Jayce cannot. can make cheeky jokes and pokes and prods.

the three fit together like 3 pieces of 3 broken puzzles. they fit together, not perfectly, but they fit, and create a finished object, even if off kilter her and uneven there. but it's ok, they're making due.

[wildstar25]

A kiss so salty and sweet.

[nbkdramathings]

I think the best thing about Lovely Runner so far has been the fact that BOTH leads are huge goobers and are equally ridiculous when it comes to the other.

I also love that even adult Sun Jae is goofy and not as cool as he may seem. Haha

I still haven’t done my “road so far” rewatch, but I’m DEFINITELY rewatching today’s episode. Mostly to see adult Sun Jae, and that bridge scene at the end. 🫠

[junkyardisles]

I joke about finding characters hot a lot as an asexual but obviously I'm not truly attracted them (like I've called wildstorm hot before but really I just think he's cool) it's so weird how people only seem to be interested in certain characters because they find them attractive lol, it just seems shallow to me. "Ugly" characters are so fun

most harrowing experience as a pokemon fan was when i realised people don't like my fav champion (diantha) cause she's not attractive

[valkyurii]

everyday i go online and get exposed to the worst takes imaginable and everyday i have to fight the urge not to kill

[vampmilf]

barely an hour at work and already on the brink of another breakdown i need to quit this fucking job and/or perhaps kill myself

[nie7027]

OMGGGGGGG I HAD NEVER WATCHED THE SPECIAL OVA DEDICATED TO NAOYA AND KOU!!!!

ITS SO PRECIOUS!!!!!😭😭😭

[softpine]

i have to tell you guys i’m not a skeptic anymore, i believe in ghosts now and my cousin can see dead people for real :D

[angeltism]

the gals around my age at weekly extracurricular r so awesome ngl

[hauntingblue]

21st century "et tu, brute" moment

[wabblebees]

.