#Look Out Loretta

[jeremythejirachi]

Yellowcard, The Gaslight Anthem, Streetlight Manifesto, More To Play Four Chord Music Festival 9

@4chordmusicfest's ninth year includes @Yellowcard, @LookOutLoretta_, @americfootball, @KeepFlyingBand and @facetofacemusic!

Ready for some fun this summer in Pittsburgh? Pittsburgh’s beloved annual punk rock festival Four Chord is back for its ninth year. The two-day, 100% DIY festival features a stacked roster, with reunited pop-punk act Yellowcard (performing Ocean Avenue in full) and emo band Taking Back Sunday headlining Saturday, August 12, and reunited heartland punk rockers The Gaslight Anthem headlining…

[merchantphoto]

our upscaled and enhanced photo of actress Loretta Swit, who played Margaret Houlihan on M*A*S*H

[sipped-lapped-swilled]

Do yourself a favour and take a look at this really cute interview

[bearenjoyers]

do you think the dlc will have more or less bosses than the ranni quest.

[townofcrosshollow]

Tell me, Margaret, when I'm gone, what will I want?

Tumblr likes to kill my quality but here's an attempt at detail shots (why did I paint this so smalllllll)

[jonroxton]

Willia doesn’t understand that being in Detroit where everyone is trigger happy and confrontational is Raylan’s vacation. A whole army can come at Raylan and he’ll be fine so long as he’s not in Harlan.

[death-rebirth-senshi]

I think Malenia's grab throw and impale you attack is cool but waterfowl still feels goofy to me idk

[cheralith]

wish you well — 「 celebrity!gojo x manager!reader (drabble & headcanons 」

synopsis ; after being one of the nation's most well-loved celebrity's manager for nine years, it's time to call it quits. said celebrity, however, doesn't take it too well.

content tags/warnings ; gn!reader, no pronouns for reader used, mild angst, some parts not edited/not beta read

contains ; celebrity!au, a-list actor!gojo satoru, manager!reader, no powers au

notes ; plot inspired by "what's wrong with secretary kim" after my nth rewatch haha

now playing ; i wish you love - nancy wilson

Everyone goes to lean forward in their seats, gripping the edge of it as the music that’s singing from the movie theatre’s speakers suddenly stops, letting the sound effects of rain pebble through instead. The screen displays a running, drenched man in the rain of a lonesome road in the middle of the countryside, his crystal blue eyes hazy with a brim of tears balancing in them as he huffs and puffs, the exhaustion within him visible. The camera cuts to a woman seated safely under a bus stop as the rain pours down with the same view of a descending countryside town still blurred in the distance. She grips the handle of her suitcase as her head goes to gaze solemnly at her shoes. 

A bus goes to a screeching halt, only the tender wheel of it visible as the woman’s gaze is still stuck on the floor before she looks up to see the bus doors opening before her. The running man appears before the screen, desperation clear on his face before the camera slowly turns towards the bus stop the formerly-sitting woman is now standing under. 

“Loretta! Don’t you dare get on that bus!”  the man yells out, earning the woman’s attention.

The woman widens her pale green eyes at the sight of him breaking out into a sprint. She swallows a nervous gulp, too frozen to move from her spot until the man enters under the shelter of the bus stop. His chest engraved with the lining of visible muscles are evident through his pale blue button-down that’s slicked with water and the sight earns a couple of lip bites from women in the theatre. 

The woman stammers, “Y-you know I need to do this…”

“No you don’t,” the man mutters, the camera panning to show his eyes holding desperation and a slight flicker of anger. “Your father wants you to do this, but I know you. I know you don’t want to.”

“But it’s my duty, Vincent—”

“Don’t give me that ‘duty’ shit!” The man shakes his head, letting droplets of water fling all over. “Loretta, please… just stay here with me,” he pleads, holding her face in his hands and forcing the woman to look up at him as his thumbs wipe away her tears that grab onto mascara. “We can stay here… get a house together… build a family… die old together like you said we would. You’re not gonna break your promise, are you?”

“Vincent, that was when we were six!” the woman exclaims sadly, “Don’t tell me you’re still hanging onto that.”

“I’m not hanging onto that promise,” he whispers, pulling her face closer to his. 

The instrumental of a music track begins to play softly in the background, obvious tension rising to the surface in the theatre as the scene continues. A couple of hands shovel into large popcorn buckets and without thinking, shove the popcorn into their salivating mouths. Nails dig into the palms of hands as some chew on them out of anticipation. Eyes wide and unblinking, they give their full attention to the screen.

“Say the line…” whispers one person.

The man tenderly kisses her in a short, but passionate kiss, letting her release from him with a dreamy sigh. 

“I’m holding on to you,” he murmurs ever so softly. 

Compared to the quietness of the man on the screen, the theatre goes absolutely crazy. Shouts and cheers ring through the air as numerous rounds of applause go to harmonize with them. 

The scene in the movie finalizes with Loretta finally swallowing her pride and nodding to Vincent’s agreement, sealing the movie with a kiss that lasts until the screen slowly fades to black. 

“Annnd… that’s a wrap,” the director of the movie jokes as he stands up from his seat. He earns a few laughs from the cast and the crew of the movie. The theatre begins to light up once more and gives a clear view of everyone, including the section that holds the main cast up near the back. “I’d like to give one last thank you to Satoru Gojo and Yuki Tsukumo one last time for giving an amazing performance and dedicating their time for the past year and a half. Thank you both ever so dearly.”

Satoru Gojo, also known as Vincent, goes to stand up with his co-star, also known as Loretta, and they give a synchronized bow to the people in the theatre as the premier for his latest movie finally draws the curtains from behind the audience. “Thank you for directing another outstanding movie. I truly do look forward to working with you again in the future,” he gives another dazzling smile as he and Yuki elegantly walk down the stairs together. They say their final goodbyes as co-stars and depart to opposite sides of the theatre where they’re greeted with their teams. 

You go to hand him his coat you’ve been hanging on to for the past ninety minutes, the scent of cologne finally fading after a suffocating hour and a half. Glancing at the director who heartily laughs with some of the editors of the movie, you let out a light chuckle. 

“Hm? What’s so funny?” Satoru inquires as he shoves on his coat. 

“You’re such a liar,” you say, shrugging as you and him exit the movie’s premiere together, some of the actor’s team following shortly after, conversing with another about how spectacular the movie was. “You’d rather throw yourself off a cliff than work with that guy again.”

Without looking at you, Satoru grins ahead. “You know me so well.”

Ijichi, the chauffeur, is waiting patiently outside the venue despite the winter cold. When he sights the many delighted smiles and laughter, he asks, “I take it the premiere went well?” 

“Very,” you nod, getting into the car to enjoy its warmth.

The car ride is nothing out of the usual, just quiet jazz playing in the background and the city lights glimmer from above. 

“Oh, what’s the agenda for tomorrow by the way?” Satoru asks, his gaze turning from the window to you, who still is focused on the tablet that checks off today’s draining tasks for the celebrity. 

Photoshoot for Ray Ban… done. Look over next month’s plans for Season Two of Jujutsu Kaisen… done. Suit fitting for movie premiere… done. Movie premiere… done!

“(Y/N)~” Satoru calls again but dragging the last syllable of your name and snapping his fingers in front of you to capture your attention. He chuckles when you jolt in your seat. 

“Sorry,” you mutter before swiping to tomorrow’s agenda. “Alright, nothing too big. You just gotta sign that contract that you’ll be the spokesperson for Chaumet, then right after, you have an Elle interview regarding the movie. Then, you’ll have a final dinner with the entire cast and that’s it for the week.”

Satoru nods in approval and obviously ready to take on tomorrow’s attacks. Only three things? He can handle that with ease. If anything, it’s been less of a load to bring on from the recent events that had been happening as of lately. His feet could really use a break from walking over so many red carpets. 

The road begins to lead down a familiar path as you realize you pass the local family diner, your apartment’s entrance shortly coming to view. Ijichi slows to a stop and unlocks the door, letting you out. Before Satoru can say goodbye to his beloved manager, however, you stop the window from rolling up and lean down into the car again. 

“Oh, I forgot to say this earlier, but,” you pause, making sure his attention is all on you for this short, but possibly life-alternating moment. “You’re also meeting your new manager tomorrow, too. She’s really sweet and—”

Time freezes for a moment.

“Wait a minute,” Satoru furrows his brows and faces his body completely towards you, his countenance pulling the curtains to reveal a confused, serious expression that rarely appears on his face. “New manager…? What do you mean?”

The question comes out more as a demand. Breath hitching for a short moment, you release it and smile gently with the corners not letting your eyes curve. You had been anticipating this moment for the longest time now—around half a year of decision making and weighing the pros and cons, then three months deciding when the right time to break the news would be. But at this time, you’ve ran out of time and you’ve ultimately decided to push it towards the day before the deadline, something you almost never do. A little solemnly, you sigh out softly and finally declare the groundbreaking news to the A-list celebrity, your head still high.

“I’ll be quitting as your manager, soon.”

Actor!Gojo, who doesn't get a good night sleep after that abrupt statement, in which you barely gave him time to try and ask why on earth you're giving up the job that many people would kill for, only leaving him with a small wave and a subtle "goodnight." Your voice replayed in his head the entire night, the sentence resembling nails on a chalkboard the more he repeated it to himself—"I'll be quitting as your manager, soon."

Actor!Gojo, who thinks you have the nerve to put on a smile and greet him good morning the following sunrise as if nothing happened, as if you weren't breaking a bond of nearly nine years with him. Your words for today’s plans go in and out of his ears as Satoru wearily examines your appearance and movements in the kitchen that he almost never uses as he rounds up his thoughts that poisoned his head ever since you said that all-too-bold statement last night that shifted his entire world in the matter of seconds.

Actor!Gojo, who cuts you off mid-sentence, asking you sharply why you're quitting as his manager out of the blue, his usually-playful baby blue hues piercing right into you. He notices your smile faltering a bit, but never completely dissipating, though it comes severely close to doing so when you tell him why.

Actor!Gojo, who listens much too intently for his liking when he hears you out, a feat he rarely does. "The past nine years have been wonderful, don't get me wrong," you murmur as you slather on a sugary marmalade on his toast. "But I don't think I'm really getting much out of life just being someone's manager."

Actor!Gojo, who pretends as if those last two words don't sting his chest. Someone's manager... as if he's not one of the most worshipped and celebrated A-list actors in the industry right now. But he supposes that's why he stuck by you, since you understood that he, too, was just a regular human being at the end of the day like the rest of humanity, even with his godlike good looks.

Actor!Gojo, whose mouth runs dry when you continue. "I don't want to be the side character to someone's story. I deserve to live fully too." you finish, pushing Gojo's plate of breakfast towards him before snacking on the leftovers. You stare at him, awaiting his response. You understand that despite you thinking over such a big decision for a few months, that it was better to rip off the bandaid and avoid any further complications by quitting unexpectedly, even though you knew Gojo better than anyone.

Actor!Gojo, who attempts to understand where you're coming from. Yes, he can get that maybe this life wasn't the most exciting, but then again, what other jobs out there are? At least with this one, you're guaranteed good—dare he say, great—pay and stability, along with experiencing second-hand what it's like to see all the glitz and glamour most of the population fiend for. It's thanks to him that you've been draped in designer clothes for premiers, that you've tried Michelin delicacies, that you've travelled the world. So... why ditch all of that for a more simple life? Aren't you content?

Actor!Gojo, whose mind flashes back to the moment where you stared a little too longingly at a lovesick couple in the window of a coffee shop, or when your eyes lingered on the engagement rings in a shop window that one day he had to get a suit tailored. He suddenly remembers the one dress rehearsal where he witnessed an extra asking for your number before you declined politely. He had asked you jokingly that you were blind to reject such a handsome guy (second to him, of course), only for you to reply you smiled gently at him and said you had no time to date.

Actor!Gojo, who suddenly blurts out without any restraint, and with a little more edge than expected, "What? D'you want to get married or something?"

Actor!Gojo, who regrets the sentence as soon as it escapes his lips. He swallows thickly and attempts to organize the right words for a proper apology. You stare blankly at him for a moment, and before Gojo can say anything, you nod. "Yeah. It's been a dream of mine to, actually..."

Actor!Gojo, who thinks his coffee tastes much bitter than usual, silently nods after a moment of awkward silence. You open your mouth first to try and cut it through, but he beats you to it. "I'm sure I could re-arrange some stuff in the schedule so you can get out there and meet someone. There's no need to quit." He ignores the weird pang in his chest the moment he says "someone."

Actor!Gojo, who frowns when you shake your head. You explain it would still be hard, as he'd remain your first priority despite it all. You mention that you've already submitted your resignation letter to his agency three weeks ago and that it's been processed, that it'll be your last two weeks as you being his manager and that you'll be saying goodbye to what had been nearly a decade of companionship with the celebrity.

Actor!Gojo, who flinches as the doorbell rings and watches miserably as you fetch the person at the door. She's a young girl, around the age when you first started as his manager, with choppy bangs and long blue hair, along with a bright and ready smile. You introduce her as his to-be manager, but Gojo can't shake off the thought of being greeted by her face in the morning and seeing her face as the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep instead of yours.

Actor!Gojo, who thinks this week is going much too fast for his liking. Despite essentially begging for the director of his latest TV show to give him some extra scenes to shoot, he was excused early with the rest of the crew after all the required scenes were shot nicely. Somehow, the brand deal commercial and meeting flew by much faster than usual, too. But despite it all, Gojo couldn't help his eyes constantly flickering to your figure whenever you were in his field of vision, even receiving multiple warnings from the director from the commercial to stop getting distracted.

Actor!Gojo, who finds his gaze lingering on a rather old picture of you and him, along with some blurry figures in the background. Nine years younger, both of you, with outdated fashion and makeup. He remembers you were just shy of being his manager for four months, when he was still trying to break out of the shell of being a nepotism baby and attempting to create a name for himself. Gojo prided himself on his independence, but he'd be fooling himself if he didn't give a hefty amount of credit of his success to you. After all, you were the one that was in charge of his many brand deals and were the one that landed him roles that granted him film awards.

Actor!Gojo, who can't find the right words to say during the drives home, hating how the air is always thick whenever you were alone with him. He doesn't think he can get used to not pulling up to your apartment when the night comes to an end before going to his, despite your affirmations that him and Miwa would get along great. He murmurs a good night to you, not facing you despite watching your reflection intently in the window, but before you wish him a good evening, you say something that forces him to face you.

"I have... a dinner reservation with someone at 6:30 p.m., so I'll be leaving early tomorrow."

Gojo blinks. "Is that implying you have a date?"

"I..." you swallow anticipatingly. "I suppose you could say that."

Actor!Gojo, who feels the familiar pang of his chest as the thought of someone else sharing a dinner with you, something you've been doing with him since the very beginning of his career. He can't even imagine a person, only some sort of foggy figure sitting across from you, sharing a shabby meal. He can tell you're waiting a response from him before you head into your apartment, and he wryly says, "That's great... Hope you have a good time or whatever..." before commanding the driver to drive off, not even waiting for another word from you.

Actor!Gojo, who drums his fingers with great boredom against the door's handle, fighting off the nuisance that was the city's insane traffic this evening. When he gazes out the window to find some other distraction other than his phone, however, he instantly finds himself drawn to a familiar figure being seated at the window a few stories up in the restaurant his car was stuck in front of. You're up there, dressed regally for another, giggling with them at something they said (something stupid, Gojo thinks to himself). Teeth grit against themselves when they feed you a small portion of their food with their fork, the indirect kiss making his eyes narrow.

Actor!Gojo, whose spontaneous anger suddenly dispels when he repeats your words from earlier that week.

"What? D'you want to get married or something?"

"Yeah. It's been a dream of mine to, actually..."

Gojo suddenly pauses and goes still for a while, thinking over something incredulous. He blinks repeatedly, before a grin etches on his face as his plan settles into his consciousness. Gojo may not give you anything you desire if you're just his mere manager...

... but if he were your husband, then that meant your dream would be fulfilled and you could stay at his side for what was essentially the rest of his life and give you anything you wanted. He'd never have to fret about you leaving his life ever again.

Satoru Gojo, you absolute Einstein... he compliments himself proudly in his mind. Letting out a confident huff as the car begins to drive on, he tells the driver to head on over to the nearest jewelry store before heading home.

a/n: hi sorry it's been a while! i was finishing up a semester at uni, so forgive my absence with this little weird hybrid ficlet of mine featuring the one and only

i hope you enjoyed and thank you for taking time out of your day to enjoy my writing! likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and are always appreciated (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ !!!

[strmpt]

i never knew how many fuckin stories i needed abt my name until i transitioned

like i guess i never realized how many people ask questions abt ur name until suddenly i didnt have answers

granted my deadname is almost as basic as names get but i knew like… shit abt how i got it and what it “means” or whatever

bitch idk why do you care

[saturngalore]

afrofuturism🪐

☆ one ~ solange hair by darknightt (tsr warning) ☆ two ~ loretta hair by @simtric ☆ three ~ bahati braids by @sheabuttyr ☆ four ~ isonoe hair by octetsica ☆ five ~ binah braids by @sheabuttyr ☆ six ~ cornrows & curls hair by @leeleesims1 ☆ seven ~ indie hair by @sashima ☆ eight ~ loc petals by @shespeakssimlish ☆ nine ~ mnemosyne hair by octetsica ☆

mini dedication essay to black simmers and ts4 creators below! pls read if you have the chance! <3

this edit is a small homage to afrofuturism and the various unique black hairstyles (and especially the black creators of most of these hairs) that i have downloaded and admired over the years! some of these are old and some of these are new.

to me, afrofuturism means constantly honoring/reclaiming/challenging the past while constantly creating/dreaming of a better society/world/future. a society/world/future that embraces and empowers all of our differences, ingenuity, aspirations, and unique lived/cultural experiences. a society/world/future that does not limit us through the various systems of marginalization and oppression (racism, homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia, sexism, xenophobia, ableism, classism, colorism, etc.) that often affects how we, as black people, live today.

blackness is so diverse and intricate yet it's always been a struggle to find my culture within a game that's known for being so limiting, bland, and extremely eurocentric when it comes to hairstyles, clothing, food traditions/events, etc. black simmers have always had to figure out how to make this game more inclusive and make it resemble either more like how our ancestors lived, how our current lives are, or how we would want our lives (and even our children's lives) to look like in the future no matter how dystopian the real world look and feel now. fortunately, these hairs and their uniqueness bring a huge sense of culture and style to this game. they have always inspired me and made me feel extremely proud to a part of the lovely african diaspora (and the ever-growing black simmer community).

in a way, being a black simmer and cc creator usually means that we are often digitally creating our own worlds as afrofuturists to varying degrees (whether we know it or not) every time we open our game, make our sims, make houses, and/or make black cultural cc. also, now i know that cc making is not easy to do and is extremely time-consuming so this post is also just me giving all black cc creators especially those who create for free their well-deserved flowers! here are some other black cc creators who created cc that have greatly impacted my game since i first started playing sims 4: @/leeleesims1 @/simtric @/hi-land @/yuyulie @/sims4bradshaw @/ebonixsims @/xmiramira @/sheabuttyr @/qwertysims @/oplerims @/sleepingsims @/shespeakssimlish and so many more im forgetting probably (im too shy rn to tag ppl but i greatly appreciate y’all fr i hope y’all telepathically get this message somehow 😭).

last but not least, i am hoping that this inspires somebody to keep creating or start creating regardless of what they think their skill level is! somebody will absolutely fall in love with your work and/or your art/work will 100% change someone's game forever <333

[mrtelevisionlover]

can i request a chrismd one where you where one if the girls in the 20 women vs 1 youtuber football edition and fans start to ship you two? even the guys haha! loving your work btw!!

Yes!! Loved writing this, enjoy!

(Can you tell I know nothing about football?)

words: 1500+

Style

When Y/n got a DM from Chris’ manager asking her to be in this video, she wasn’t too sure what to think. She wasn’t very lucky in the dating scene, only going on a few first dates, and had never had a boyfriend. She didn’t really want to embarrass herself in front of his millions of subscribers but she had been a fan of his work for a while and had always wanted to meet him so…why not?

The morning of, she was very nervous. She had bought a new shirt to wear, and paired it with some shorts. She braided her hair into a simple french braid and stepped into some worn out trainers. She decided to go without makeup, as she was probably going to sweat it off. Also the weather outside was horrible and she didn’t want mascara dripping down her face…And she was late for the train.

When she arrived on the pitch, she saw 19 other girls, all very pretty. She suddenly felt insecure, especially as no-one was talking to her. She decided to go over her pickup line, seeing as that would be his first impression of her.

Soon, the cameras started rolling and one by one, the girls would introduce themselves to Chris and his two friends, Calfreezy and ArthurTV. Eventually, it was just her left. She watched Chris say goodbye to Loretta, who she eventually learnt had been on a few dates with Chris already. Once his manager gave her the green light, she walked over to the table.

“Wow-Hello!” Chris smiles. He takes a moment to look at her face, admiring her.

“Hi! I’m Y/n and uh…Can you be your striker? I'm only aiming for your heart.” Y/n giggles slightly, and the sound brings blush to Chris’ cheeks. 

“Aww, that’s quite sweet.” Arthur coos.

Freezy pauses, then points, nodding his head. “You know what, I like it.” 

Chris shakes his head slightly, and presses a hand to his cheek. “Are you any good at football?”

“I play with my dog sometimes?...” She shrugs, embarrassment painting her cheeks slightly.

“Oh…Okay. Well, I wish you the best of luck.” He smiles.

“Thank you!” She takes a few steps away from the ball before running towards it and kicking it with all her might. Unfortunately, the ball narrowly misses the goal, and goes over the top.

“Ooh! That was good, I’ll give you that.” Chris exclaims, clapping his hands together in celebration.

Cal sighs, “That almost made it too.”

“I’m actually surprised I got it that close. I thought it’d end up behind me.” Y/n gasps as two hands cover her mouth. She was quite awful at football and really surprised herself.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Arthur looks towards Chris in anticipation. He knows Chris already likes her, he can see the look in his eye– it was the same in school.

“Yeah, you’re through.” He smiles. Freezy takes note that this is the widest he’s smiled so far.

“Really? Thank you!” Y/n does a little jump before waving goodbye. She walks over to the rest of the girls where they actually start to talk to her. She starts talking to Rose, an American streamer who flew all the way over to be on this video. She seemed to really like Chris and Y/n started to get a little nervous, Rose was very pretty.

“She seems really sweet.” Arthur whispers to Chris as you walk away.

“She’s really pretty too.” Chris blushes, sending a shy smile towards him.

Freezy perks up, “Uh-oh, Chris is falling already.” He laughs.

Soon after, they moved into round two. Twelve girls remained, Y/n included, and they had three free kicks. Chris, Freezy, and Arthur stood in a line a few metres in front of the goal while the girls aimed for it, the 3 of them often getting hit. 

“Hello Y/n.” Chris beams. Cal laughs at him while Arthur nudges his shoulder. 

“Hi again.” She smiles, waving to the 3 of them. She’s incredibly nervous. She worries her luck has run out and has a bad feeling she’s going to hit one of them.

“Any technique you're aiming for?”

“Um…To score? Hopefully” She laughs. Chris giggles, Arthur and Freezy give each other a look

“Okay, Well…Best of luck.” He smiles.

Y/n steps back from the ball, lets out a little breath, and kicks the ball. It goes over their heads, and misses the goal. “Aww, come on!”

“It’s alright, you got two more!”

She kicks the ball again, she uses less power and it rolls towards the goal slowly. Arthur lets out a little laugh and Chris hits his chest with a scowl. 

“One more, give it some power!”

“Okay.” She mutters to herself as she walks back to the line. “Just score one, please.” She whispers, closing her eyes.

Y/n lets out another little breath before kicking the ball with all her strength. She watches the ball fly through the air and…Hit Chris right in the groin.

Arthur screams, “OHH!” as Chris falls to the floor, Calfeezy struggling to breathe from laughter. 

“Oh my-Are you okay!?” Y/n quickly runs towards him, leaning down to check on him.

“There goes my ability to have kids.” He groans, rolling on the floor.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t even know I could do that-” She apologises as her face is flooded in guilt. 

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Chris slowly gets up, Y/n helping him.

“Are you sure? I’m just gonna go-”

“No! You’re through.”

“Wait, what!?” Cal exclaims as Arthur gives the camera a look of bewilderment. 

“Really?” She gasps.

“Yeah, you’re really sweet.” Chris rubs his hand down her arm, soothing her slightly.

“Oh, thank you. Again, I’m really sorry.” Y/n face plants as she walks away, her face flushed with embarrassment.

“You are insane.” Arthur mutters.

“What can I say, I really like her.” Chris shrugs, then wincing

 For the third round, the nine remaining girls had to show a talent. Y/n watched girls throw and kick footballs, recite poems, and participate in an arm wrestling contest. She decided to do some gymnastics, as that was the only thing she could come up with. 

“Hello Y/n, what will you be showing us today?”

“I will be doing some gymnastics.” 

“Oh cool! Ready when you are.” 

She starts by doing a handstand, then holding it for a few seconds before falling into a bridge. She stands up and does a simple cartwheel, then falls into the splits. She hears the guys cheering her on and she giggles slightly. She decides to finish it off with a few flips, landing in front of the table. 

“Wow…” Chris stares in awe.

“That was so cool” Arthur exclaimed, shaking Chris slightly.

“It’s a yes!” 

“Really? Thank you! See you later.” You wave them off. Chris watches you walk off, subtly checking you out. Freezy notices this and laughs at him, smacking him over the head.

“So…It’s Y/n and Rose, right? Those 2 you were smiling the entire time.“

“Yeah…Yeah, it’s them.”

“So…We’ve made a decision and we’ve decided to put Y/n and Rose into the final.”

“Woo!” The rest of the girls clap.

Both girls did rock, paper, scissors to decide who was starting first and Y/n won. Chris held an Umbrella over her head as he led her to the goal.

“So uh…What baby names do you like?”

“I like classic ones like Charlotte, or Henry.”

“Oh nice. I like Heather.” 

“Aww, that’s really cute. How many kids do you want?”

“As many as my wife will have, I don’t mind.”

Y/n smiles and realizes she's at the line. She says a little goodbye and watches him walk away. 

Eventually, Rose had scored 2 out of her 4 tries, and Y/n only had scored 1 out of her three. If she wanted a chance, she’d have to score. Y/n stands in front of the ball and closes her eyes, and slows down her breathing. She shakes her hands, stretches her neck, and kicks the ball.

She watches the ball fly through the sky, miss the goalie, and hit the net! She hears the guys celebrate behind her and realises she’s back in the game. 

She then watches Rose hit the ball for the final time, and watches as it narrowly misses the goal. Y/n hears gasps next to her as someone shakes her shoulders.

“If you score this, you win! No pressure though.” Arthur smiles at her sheepishly. She nods, still in shock. Y/n turns to Chris as she walks away and he gives her a reassuring smile, and a thumbs up. 

Y/n turns to the ball and eyes up the goal. She lets out one final breath and kicks the ball. It feels like everything is going in slow-motion, and she can’t watch anymore. She turns around and covers her eyes, only opening them when all 3 guys scream in excitement. 

She turns back around to see the ball in the goal and she gasps. “I did it!” Chris runs over and gives her a hug, congratulating her in her ear. She hugs him back, and squeals in surprise when he picks her up. Chris then gives her a gold envelope with a lot of money inside.

“No-I can’t keep this.” Y/n tries to give him back the envelope but he puts up his hands

“Yes you can, you won.”

“No-” She tries.

“Yes.”

“A date with you is the prize.” She pleads.

He smiles, before pushing the envelope back in her hands.

The video then cuts to them both skipping into the distance, with cute music playing over the top. It then fades, the video ending.

Comments: usera: Hello!? The chemestry between the two? SO glad she won

userb: rose was robbed tbh

userc: DOES ANYONE KNOW IF THEY ACTUALLY WENT ON A DATE I NEED TO KNOW!!

userd: who's wating for arthurs ai generated comment?

usere: you could see how much chris liked her from the start. who knew he was such a blushy boy!?

userf: so cute! Hope to see her in other videos

userg: him picking her up at the end? they better be together

userh: her talking about men's mental health? chris, she's a keeper!

Well, I hope you like it. My first real fic, done!! also, ignore any mistakes, i'll go over them tomorrow x

[kissesandarsenic]

Day 29 - Free Use

The party felt like a no-brainer given just how insatiable you’d gotten of late.

I'd tried finding solutions in the past, but they were never enough. It wasn’t as fun by yourself, the fucking machine was impersonal, and unfortunately I just don’t have the energy to keep up with you day in day out.

So, I throw a party. One night where you’ll get all the attention you so desperately want.

A dozen people show up. You’d wanted more but that’s to be expected from a needy thing like you. For tonight, you are going to service cock and cunt until you’re drunk from it. And you’re going to love every second, aren’t you?

I lay you out on the bed, dressed in your favourite lingerie. The party circles you like vultures and I let them, taking a step back to watch my perfect toy get ravaged. Just like you deserve. 

The lingerie disappears in seconds. You’re pinned down, already begging to be used. A cunt slides over your face soon occupying that slutty mouth of yours, but we still hear muffled moans as you eat your fill.

Hands roam over your body, grabbing and slapping and pinching and fucking. The woman pulls off your face and you gasp for air, pupils dilated, a hungry bitch in heat. 

You’re fucked ruthlessly and god, you look perfect like this. Eyes rolling back in pleasure, no brain left in that pretty head. It’s been utterly fucked out of you. You’re such a good fuck toy for them, baby, they love you.

By the time it ends you’re almost passed out. Littered in cum, bruises and bitemarks, drenched in sweat. You give me a hazy fucked out grin as I pet your hair, make a happy noise as I kiss your forehead. 

So honey, should we make these parties weekly? Or is my greedy little slut going to need more than that?

Loretta and Salt's Kinktober Masterlist

[fahye]

book recs: june 2024

it's been a weird few months of swinging wildly between mood reading of new things and needing to reread old favourites. all of these were new-to-me, and * means I read an ARC so they're not out yet BUT keep your eyes peeled/preorder if you like the sound of them.

SOMEONE YOU CAN BUILD A NEST IN by john wiswell - sapphic monster romance but make it asexual rep (woo!) between a protagonist who is usually a ball of shapeshifting goo, and a woman whose awful family is trying to hunt down the shapeshifting monster. it's both delightfully gruesome and a sweet, angry story about two hurt people finding and saving one another. this book deserves to become tumblr-famous.

LORD OF SCOUNDRELS by loretta chase - an absolute platinum-level classic in regency romance history, and for good reason. jessica trent: best heroine to ever appear on the page. wild hijinks, superb feelings, jessica can we please be best friends so you can teach me all about your antiques dealership.

THE SAINT OF BRIGHT DOORS by vajra chandrasekera - everyone describes this as 'impossible to describe' and they're right. truly original urban-ish fantasy about the oppression of underclasses, magic, identity, the inconvenience of being prophesied to kill your father, and a support group for failed messiahs. it's splendid and will stretch your mind like a muscle.

ALL THE SINNERS BLEED - by s.a. cosby - a contemporary crime thriller about a black sheriff in the american south trying to catch a serial killer in the face of systemic racism and obstruction. dark themes, wonderfully written, extremely gripping: I read it in a day.

THE UNDERHISTORY by kaaron warren - an elderly woman running tours of her infamously 'haunted' family home is confronted with a group of dangerous escaped killers looking for somewhere to hide. half slowburn crime horror and half a fantastic, meandering exploration of one person's history. you all know I love a vaguely fucked-up house, and this one comes with an older protagonist hiding secrets of her own.

THE DEATH OF VIVEK OJI by akwaeke emezi - there's a new emezi book coming out soon so I finally let myself read this one! a brief, bittersweet slap of a novel about gender and sexuality and family and longing, told in emezi's uniquely electrifying prose style. I wish I could write like this.

THE FRIEND ZONE EXPERIMENT* by zen cho - zen's first contemporary romance! inspired by kdrama tropes! a hardworking singaporean entrepreneur heroine in london! I enjoyed the romance itself but even more I enjoyed watching renee fight to prove herself in the face of various terrible men.

THE FORMIDABLE MISS CASSIDY* by meihan boey - if susan sto helit is your favourite discworld character, you will love the hell out of this. no-nonsense magical governess deals with folklore monsters and social drama in 19th century singapore. lively and heaps of fun. I wish it was an episodic buffy-esque tv show.

THE PAIRING* by casey mcquiston - two exes accidentally reunite on a food & wine tour of europe for the sluttiest and most self-indulgent bisexual summer ever. food porn, drinks porn, european scenery porn, feelings porn, porn-porn: this is a book that is 95% Various Vibes and Porn and if that sounds like your kind of thing, you'll love it. warning: will make you very hungry.

[moralesluvr]

FABLE AND TRUTH 3 | billie eilish

୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught…. ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. WOOO CHAP 3 IS HERE wc. 8.1k

✧ 11:33 am, tuesday ✧

when you wake up, you’ve got a headache, and not the kind that derives from alcohol. 

you stretch out your limbs, head pounding as you reach over to look at your clock, and you almost scream at how late it is. although you don’t have classes on tuesdays, you had missed your morning Bible study, which made you slip out a groan, grabbing your phone and checking your notifications. 

a bunch of pictures were piled into the shared photo album between you and your friends, the group chat was blowing up with texts, and you had three missed calls from one of your friends from Bible study, loretta. 

you sighed, placing your phone into the cushions of your bed as the door to your dorm swung open, emma’s sleepy frame coming into view as she rubbed her eyes. she’d swapped her party outfit for oversized sweats and a hoodie, her hair a messy bun of waves and curls as she let out a thick yawn. 

“morning. everything alright?” she mumbled, voice laced with fatigue as she slumped into the doorframe of your bedroom. you sat up, the covers above you shuffling as you cuddled into a pillow, sighing. 

“good morning. and yeah— i’m fine, i just slept in too late. missed my Bible study.”

emma’s face warmed up, and she padded over to sit at the edge of your bed. although emma could be loud and rowdy sometimes, she was always there for you when you needed it, and she always knew when to soften up. she scoots closer to you, “you feeling okay, love? you seemed… tense as shit last night.”

before you could answer her question, there was a loud knock echoing from the door, followed by naomi’s unmistakable, recognizable voice. you really longed to be alone right now, but you sit up straighter underneath your bedsheets, prepared for whatever shenanigans she has to offer. 

“open up!” she sing-songed dramatically, and you honestly wondered how she could be so hyper after the night you shared previously, “we brought coffee!”

that makes you want to be alone a little less. 

you start to get up, but emma shuffles to the door, pulling it open to reveal naomi, jules, and oliver standing in the hallway. naomi held a tray of iced coffees while jules had her tote bag slung over one shoulder, her sunglasses perched on her head like she was ready to model at any moment, though you can tell she hasn’t been out by the way she’s clad in slippers and sweats, which she would never step foot outside in. oliver stood between the two girls, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, grinning lazily.

“we figured you wouldn’t come out today, knowing you— so we came right to you instead.” naomi giggled, handing you an iced coffee as she waltzed into the room. she plopped onto your bed, careful not to splash any of her drink, “yeah, i know, we’re great friends like that.”

the four of them made themselves comfortable very quickly, naomi got up and plopped onto your desk chair, jules claimed the cushiony, lilac colored beanbag in the corner, and oliver flopped onto the huge rug by your bed. emma returned to her perch on the mattress.

“so… how are you feeling?” jules starts off, pulling out a makeup mirror from her tote, brushing a freshly manicured nail through her lash extensions. she looks at you when you don’t respond instantly, and you let off a shrug, your voice hallow and quiet. 

“i feel alright.” you muttered, sipping at your coffee, though no one believes your lie. you wouldn’t necessitate consider it one— you did feel alright, but you definitely have felt better. 

the encounter with billie was still on instant replay in your mind. all the way from the party to your awkward conversation at the diner, it felt like it all happened literally five minutes ago. you couldn’t get her face out of your head, what she said to you before she left, how she somehow knew your name and you hadn’t even told her it. she was attentive, such a great listener— and you were one back. but now things were tense, and they were driving you nuts, and all you wanted to do was to sink further into your mattress until it swallowed you whole. 

“oh, come on,” naomi drags out with a smirk, “don’t think we didn’t notice how fast you bolted out of that damn diner last night.”

oliver sits up in confusion, “you went to the diner without me? you assholes.”

“yeah right.” emma offers up a scoff, “why weren’t you there? oh, my bad, you were too busy getting dicked down!” 

you wave a hand at the two as they start to banter, “okay, okay, please. not today.” 

they all go quiet, murmuring apologies at you as you felt your headache growing stronger. by this time, you would’ve already had breakfast and your morning coffee, probably on a run or shopping with emma. but instead, you were laying in your bed idle, having a needed albeit unpleasant conversation with your best friends. 

jules snickered at you, closing her mirror and shoving it into her bag, “so, billie? ring any bells?”

“guys,” you groaned, setting your coffee on the nightstand, ready to defend yourself. “come on, it wasn’t like that.”

“really?” naomi teased, tilting her head. “because it sure looked like it. i mean— you may not swing that way, but you were ready to switch teams for that girl.” 

oliver grinned. “never seen you that flustered, y/n. kind of refreshing, honestly.”

“what the heck?” you deadpanned, glaring at him. “you literally weren’t even there.”

“pictures were sent, what can i say?”  naomi giggled, but you didn’t laugh with her. you were starting to become a little irritated at the whole thing. it was already bad enough you started your morning off on the wrong foot, and this impromptu interrogation session wasn’t helping you feel even the slightest bit better. “billie was clearly into you. and you didn’t exactly shut her down.”

you sighed, running a hand over your face. you really want to tell them to leave, but you weren’t that type of girl. they were annoying at times, but they were your friends— almost like siblings. and this is what they do, so you couldn’t complain. “for the last time, she was drunk. it didn’t mean anything, so drop it.” 

emma, who’d been quietly observing the entire exchange, finally spoke up at the three, “okay y’all, leave her alone. she’s clearly not in the mood for this.”

you shot her a grateful look, and she shrugged as if it were her way of saying ‘you’re welcome.’ the group grumbles but they ultimately understand, so they all collectively promise that they’d drop it once and for all, trying their best not to make you upset even further. 

the conversation eventually switched to oliver’s little one night stand that took place last night, and you pretend to listen as best as you can, but your efforts are failed. you can’t think straight— last night’s events are gnawing at you, and it makes your skin crawl when you let yourself think about billie. she’s undeniably gorgeous, and the kind of interesting that makes you want to know her thoughts about everything, how she feels, how she thinks. her demeanor is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, and much differentiated from how yours is. she’s bold, and it’s obvious that she isn’t swayed easily. 

you try to convince yourself that it’s just a deep interest in her, and nothing more. a longing to be her friend— to understand someone that’s much different than you, to catch a glimpse at a different perspective. but it’s not normal how you stare at her longer than you should, or how your skin tingles every time someone even mentions her name. 

but it’s wrong. she’s a girl, and you’re a girl, and it’s obvious that those kind of feelings aren’t even to be uttered out loud about. so you shake your shoulders in an attempt to shake your thoughts too, but they linger. they stay. 

you pinch at your skin until it aches, saying a quick prayer to steady yourself. you needed to get out of your dorm, otherwise your thoughts would swallow you whole. and everyone seemed to pick up on that when you hear bags shuffling and shoes being put on, and you open your eyes to see everyone packing their things up, ready to leave. 

but you needed this. and more than anything, all of this made you question yourself. your faith. your path. you’d always believed in staying true to what you’d been taught, to what you felt in your heart was right. but lately, everything seemed so much more complicated.

“hey, you okay?” emma’s voice broke through your reverie, and you realized the room had gone quiet. everyone was standing up now, and everyone was looking at you.

“yeah,” you said quickly, trying to sound convincing, “i’m honestly just tired.”

emma frowned at you but she didn’t press further, and soon enough, your friends were saying their goodbyes, eventually filing out the door. but emma stayed behind, lingering in the doorway.

“seriously, you good?” she asked you with a pleading tone, “you don’t have to lie to me. it’s okay.” 

you want to take refuge in emma. you want to express to her how confused you feel, how badly your mind is swirling, how foreign and unpleasant these feelings were to you. but you just nod anyways, offering up a small smile, “i’m okay, really, em. just need some time to myself.”

emma didn’t look convinced, but she let it go, closing the door softly behind her as she bid you farewell. 

once you were alone, you sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the floor. your phone buzzed beside you, and you picked it up to see another text from loretta, asking if you were okay. guilt twisted in your stomach as you typed out a quick response, apologizing for missing Bible study and promising to see her as soon as you could. 

and soon came faster than you expected. less than an hour later, you found yourself walking into the small classroom where your Bible study group met, clutching your journal and Bible like a lifeline. loretta was already there, along with a few others, her warm smile lighting up the room as she waved you over.

“we really missed you this morning.” she said, her tone kind but tinged with curiosity. loretta won’t ever pry, but she always speaks in a way that could make someone spill all their darkest secrets to her. but it’s familiar to you, so you press your belongings further into your chest, shrugging at her lightly. 

“i’m so sorry, etta,” you speak, your voice nothing but a whisper, taking a seat beside her at a lone table next to the window that bleeds golden rays of sunlight. you thank the Lord for that, instantly boosting your mood a little. “i just had such rough night. i didn’t wake up in time.”

loretta studied you for a moment, her eyes soft with understanding. she doesn’t push, she just sets a hand above your own, “you want to talk about it?”

“not really,” you admitted, looking down at your hands. you drew them back, and loretta passes you a confused grin as you set them in your lap. you feel bad, but you can’t be bothered with the intimacy right now. “just a lot on my mind.”

she nodded, not pushing any further, and then the study began. there were always multiple a day on tuesdays, but you preferred to catch the morning ones because they always made your day better, and plus— you had the rest of it to spend as you pleased. but today you had strolled in at the one p.m, and something felt…off. 

you try to push it away, excusing it for your late awakening. but as the discussion moved through the week’s passage, you found it hard to focus. your mind kept wandering, questions swirling in your head left and right. you scribbled notes in the margins of your journal, but none of it felt real, none of it felt connected. you felt… lost.

“i just can’t focus today,” you mutter to yourself, tapping your pen lightly against your journal, your mind wandering among other things. the passage of the day is from the book of james— chapter one, verses five through eight. it’s a familiar one: if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. but let him ask in faith, with no doubting…

the words drift in and out of your mind, brushing up against the edges of your thoughts but never quite sticking in. the leader of the study, a soft-spoken senior named marcus, begins breaking it down, his voice steady and sure. “james is talking about faith that doesn’t waver, even in uncertainty,” he says. “it’s about trusting that God’s wisdom will come in His timing, even when we don’t have all the answers. does anyone have any thoughts to add to that?” 

your pen pauses mid-tap, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. the room is quiet as everyone listens, but you’re anything but. your heart is racing, and your thoughts are louder than ever, and it’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before. you’re usually so attentive, so focused— but everything felt blurry now, and you honestly just wanted to leave. 

you felt almost guilty for even thinking that, but feelings weren’t sinful. it was true and raw, and although it made you feel a little sick, it was honest. 

you think about what marcus said, trying to force yourself back on track. 

faith without doubting. faith in His timing. it feels personal, like the words are aimed straight at you, piercing through the fog of everything you’ve been trying to suppress. but you don’t speak up, you just keep tapping your pen against the blank pages of your journal, waiting until someone else breaks the silence. 

and it finally happens. 

“but what does that look like in practice?” someone asks. it’s a girl you’ve seen around but don’t know well—melanie, maybe? you weren’t sure. 

 “how do we trust when things feel… messy?”

marcus smiles gently at her, flipping back a page to quote scripture. “well, morgan, it’s not easy.” 

so, not melanie. you snort quietly. 

“…but it starts with honesty—with bringing all of your doubts and messiness to God. He can handle it. the act of faith isn’t about being perfect; it’s about surrendering even when it’s hard.”

you glance down at your journal, your new scribbled notes blurring together. you write the word “surrender” in the margin, circling it harshly, but the idea feels heavy, almost suffocating.

marcus moves on to another topic out of genesis, but you’re stuck on the first lesson, that first word.  surrender. what does it even mean, really? how are you supposed to surrender when your thoughts and feelings are so tangled, when you can’t even untangle them long enough to pray properly?

your chest tightens as the conversation continues around you, voices rising and falling like waves, but you’re drowning beneath them. the guilt from the night before, the confusion about billie, the shame of missing this morning’s study —it all feels like too much.

you can’t sit here anymore.

closing your journal quietly, you slide it into your bag and stand, keeping your head low as you make your way to the door. a few people glance up, but no one stops you. no one except loretta.

“y/n?” she calls softly, her voice filled with concern, but your feet betray you. you keep moving towards the door, your bag shuffling against your jeans as you walk faster. 

but then you pause, hand on the doorknob, and shake your head. “i’ll be back,” you say, though even you aren’t sure if you really mean it. you haven’t a clue when you’d be back. 

you step out into the hallway, the cool air hitting you like a wave of relief. but it doesn’t stop the tightness in your chest, the way your hands tremble as you lean against the wall. you take a deep breath, then another, but it doesn’t help.

the door creaks open behind you, and you know it’s loretta before she even speaks.

“okay honey, what’s going on?” she asks, her tone soft but insistent.

you shake your head again, trying your best to avoid her gaze. “nothing. i just… needed some air.”

“y/n,” she says, stepping closer. “this isn’t nothing. talk to me.”

the sincerity in her voice almost breaks you. you glance at her, and the concern in her eyes feels like a mirror, reflecting all the things you’ve been trying to hide. you feel like she can see right through your excuses— she’s got that kind of anointing on her, and you sigh, almost accepting your defeat. 

“i don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “i just feel… off. like i’m failing. at everything.”

loretta frowns, leaning against the wall beside you. she speaks gently, “now why would you think that?”

you swallow hard, the words clawing their way out of your throat, scratchy and forced, “because i can’t focus. because i missed the morning study. because i keep getting caught up in… things that don’t even matter.”

“things like what?”

you hesitate, the memory of billie’s words flashing through your mind. something good, she’d said. but what if she was wrong? what if there wasn’t anything good about you?

“just… distractions and stuff,” you say finally, wrapping your arms around yourself. you weren’t telling the whole truth, but details didn’t really matter now. loretta can tell that you’re hiding something, but she doesn’t ask. she just wants you to be raw. 

“things that make me feel like i’m not good enough. like i’m not who i’m supposed to be.”

loretta is quiet for a moment, and when she speaks, her voice is gentle. “y/n, you’re not supposed to have it all figured out. none of us are. that’s why we’re here, why we study and pray and try to grow. it’s not about being perfect; it’s about seeking Him, even in the mess.”

her words hit you like a balm, soothing but not erasing the ache. “but what if i can’t?” you ask, your voice breaking. “what if i keep messing up?”

“then you just keep trying,” she says simply. “God’s grace isn’t a one-time thing. it’s new every morning, remember? His love doesn’t depend on you getting it right. it’s just… there. always.”

you close your eyes, letting her words sink in. it’s not a magic fix, but it’s something to offer.

“thanks,” you say quietly, finally meeting her gaze.

she smiles, her hand brushing your shoulder lightly. “anytime. and, y/n? you’re not failing. you’re just human. whatever it is, it doesn’t change you as a person. you’re still you.” 

that soothes you, and you smile at loretta, “thanks. i’m going to study, but…i’ll keep your words in mind.” 

she offers you a sweet smile, waving as she watches you walk away, disappearing into the warm sun. 

✧ 5:45 pm ✧

by the evening, you found yourself wandering the campus library, hoping the quiet would help clear your mind. the big windows of the building let in wispy, warm air, the sunset painting golden streaks across the few students who sat scattered at tables, their heads bent over books and their headphones above their ears. 

the familiar scent of aged paper and polished wood grounded you, offering a comfort nothing else but loretta’s pep talk had managed to provide all day. your steps were slow, almost aimless, as you trailed your fingers along the spines of all kinds of books, the cool texture grounding you further. eventually, you stopped in the music section, though you weren’t sure why.

maybe it was curiosity. or maybe it was that same uneasy pull you’d felt since the party, a pull to the music that blasted through the speakers, but especially to the music sung live— raw and unpolished— literally right in front of you.

her music.

you flipped through a biography of some lesser-known jazz singer, your fingers lingering on the edges of the pages, when a familiar, confident voice broke the stillness.

“huh. figured i’d find you in the nerd section.”

you jumped, nearly dropping the book in your hands as your heart raced. of course, it was billie— her voice too distinct and her teasing known by you all too well. you swallow thickly, spinning around on your heel where you found billie standing a few feet away, her hands shoved in the pockets of her extremely oversized jacket. the same smug smirk you’d come to associate with only her tugged at her lips, her ocean blue eyes sparkling. 

“oh,” you spoke out of obvious surprise, “hi, billie. w-what are you doing here?”

“nice to see you too, princess,” she giggled, “i’m here to read. y’know, that’s what people usually do at libraries.” 

“w-wait…you go to…yale university?” you questioned, cocking your head to the side. she didn’t seem like the type to even be interested in what your college had to offer, and no major seemed like one that you’d expect her to be endorsed in. 

she grinned stupidly at your confusion, her eyes narrowing with mischief, and it was obvious that she took pride in pestering you, “what, you think i just wander onto campuses for fun? as much as i find that dope, no— i do go here.” 

“i mean… it seems like it’d be your style,” you admitted, your words hesitant as you tried to say that as less offensively as you could. billie really didn’t seem like the type to be drawn to yale’s particular offerings, and you couldn’t picture her fitting into any of the usual cliques or anything you associated with your school. you set your book down on the table forgetfully, now engrossed in this conversation with billie, “what are you even studying?”

“music theory.” she said simply.

your eyebrows shot up, the revelation catching you completely off guard. you hold a hand up, “wait— hold on, seriously?”

billie rolled her eyes, but her grin stayed in place. “yes, seriously. what, you think just because i can sing, i don’t care about the technical stuff? that’s the best part.” she gestured dramatically toward the shelves around her, stuffed to the brim books on everything from classical composition to modern sound design, none of which you really knew about— it was so much different from your major of law. 

“no, it’s not that, i just…” you trailed off, feeling a little sheepish under her knowing gaze. it was embarrassing how quick you judged her, and you felt instant regret wash over you. “i guess i just didn’t expect you to major in something like that, i thought singing was just a hobby of yours. i’m so sorry.” 

“don’t worry about it, sunday school.” billie snickers, leaning against a table, “but yeah, honestly, people tend to underestimate me. not that i really give a shit. it makes moments like this way more fun.”

you frowned, clarifying your intentions, “i’m not underestimating you. i just—”

“—just didn’t peg me for a nerd?” billie finished your sentence for you, raising an eyebrow.

“i didn’t say that!”

she laughed, the sound light and unbothered. she slips past you to reach for a book above your head, her shoulder bumping into yours, and the light and quick moment of contact makes you shiver, “you didn’t have to. but don’t worry, princess, i’m not offended—” her sentence stops as billie stood back on her heels, waving a foreign book in front of your face excitedly, “this book’s so fucking good, i’ve read it like a hundred times. it’s fantasy, but it’s still a banger. alright, so basically…”

and then she babbles on. something about how a dude’s got the most insane case of synesthesia, which she also has, and that’s why she likes the book so much. “—he can literally see music notes as they’re being played. and they like, make a path or some shit…that part’s blurry— but anyway, he meets his wife from it and it’s so dope. and they make music together and have little musical intelligent babies and like, oh my god, it’s been my favorite ever since i picked it up.” 

you felt your cheeks heat up, the warmth blossoming against your skin, and you turned slightly, pretending to scan the titles on the nearest shelf to avoid eye contact. you hum to let her know that you were listening, but if you looked at her for any longer, you’d throw up. 

it was almost inhuman, how effortlessly beautiful she looked—her excitement lighting up her face in a way that made it hard to focus on anything else. you’d never seen her this talkative before, and while it was a stark contrast to the teasing, smug demeanor you were used to, it didn’t bother you. in fact, it was a welcome distraction from the awkwardness of monday night.

“you should read it.” she said suddenly, thrusting the book toward you with a light toss. 

you blinked harshly, glancing down at the cover. it was worn from use, the edges frayed and the spine creased, and you could get that all those little flaws were because she’s probably checked out the book a million times. “me? read this?” you asked, a little hesitant, “i honestly don’t know if it’s my thing. i’m not good at the whole….music thing.” 

billie rolled her eyes, though her unbreakable smile a dead give away that she was only playing, “ugh, don’t be like that. trust me, it’s good. and if you hate it, you can yell at me later. i won’t be offended.” 

you laughed softly, taking the book from her hands. her fingers brushed against yours briefly, and you tried not to think about how warm they felt, how her rings were a cool contrast to her fiery skin, how it made you feel so much calmer, although it was only an accident. you stifle a cough, “fine,” you said, flipping it over to read the back cover. “but if it’s terrible, you owe me coffee for the inconvenience.”

“deal,” she said with a wink, stepping back to lean casually against the nearest shelf. “but, spoiler alert, you’re gonna love it. it has all the nerdy shit you like.” 

you shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself, “yeah, alright, we’ll see.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of her presence lingering in the air as you pretended to read the book summary. in truth, you were hyperaware of her gaze, of the way she seemed completely at ease while you felt like a bundle of nerves. she was staring at you, taking in your features, her eyes moving rapidly— she wasn’t wasting anytime. she was fixated on you. 

“so,” she said finally, breaking the silence, looking across the various, neat stacks of books, “what’s got you so wound up today? you seem off.”

you hesitated, debating whether to brush her off or actually answer. but something about the way she looked at you—curious but not pushing too hard—made you feel like maybe it was okay to share. you felt comfortable. 

“just… a lot on my mind,” you admitted, keeping your eyes on the book in your hands.

“like?”

you sighed, finally looking up to meet eyes with her, “it’s nothing, really. just school, life… trying to figure out what i’m doing with myself. stuff about me.”

billie tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “well, join the club, sunday school. i don’t think anyone really knows what they’re doing. we’re all just kinda winging it, to be honest. this life shit isn’t easy.” 

you couldn’t help but smile at that, her words oddly comforting, though it isn’t exactly something you’d ever say. “yeah, maybe.”

there’s silence for a second. and then billie speaks up again, tossing a section of hair to the side of her shoulders, toying with the ends. she twirls them around a black-manicured nail, and she seems more serious now. 

“do you, um…” she mumbles, and you raise an eyebrow at her, coaxing her to finish her sentence, “—get coffee?” do you wanna go? with me?” 

you almost laugh at how choppy her sentence is. you know that you shouldn’t go, it was already bad enough that the two of you were conversing so much— but you obliged anyways. she was just a friend, don’t friends hang out? 

“sure.” you give her a warm smile, “why not?”

she nods, “alright. cool.”

as you both stepped out of the library, the cool evening air wrapped around you, the sky fading into deeper shades of orange and purple. the colors bled together beautifully, and it made you smile at what a wonderful creation it was. billie walked beside you, her usual swagger a little muted. the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was a noticeable shift in her energy.

“hey,” billie started, her voice softer than usual. you glanced at her, surprised by the change in tone as you both kept walking down campus. her hands were stuffed into her jacket pockets, and her gaze was fixed on the ground ahead, not even bothering to look at you. she seemed shameful. “about the other night at the diner… i just— i need to say that i’m really fucking sorry.”

you stopped in your tracks, turning to face her fully. her expression was uncharacteristically serious, the usual teasing glint in her eyes replaced by something more vulnerable. it was extremely unexpected, and you kind of wish she hadn’t said anything at all— because now you had to discuss it. 

“you’re… apologizing?” you asked, not meaning to sound so incredulous, but you couldn’t help it. it was just so out of the blue, and you assumed she was one of those people who’d chat with you after something happens to compensate for what she did wrong. 

“yeah,” she said, her lips twitching into a faint, self-deprecating smile, “look, i know i was a jerk. i pushed too hard, and i made you uncomfortable. i was drunk as shit, but that still wasn’t cool of me. not an excuse. so… i’m sorry.”

you blinked, caught off guard by her sincerity. it was rare to see this side of her, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. “thank you,” you said finally, your voice soft. “i appreciate that.”

you two laughed, the tension between you dissolving as the two of you headed toward a nearby café. it was cute— white with pink accents, and it was definitely right up your alley. you were surprised you had never heard of it, and you made a mental note to come here in the mornings for your alone Bible studies. 

billie opened the door for you, ushering her hand in front of you with a grand gesture, “m’lady.” 

you feel yourself shrivel at her words. it was a joke— you shouldn’t be so stuck up about it, and you aren’t even sure why her saying that would make you feel…off. it would’ve been totally different if one of your girls said it, and that’s what bothers you. what was so different about you and billie’s friendship? why did it bother you so much? 

you stepped inside the restaurant, trying to play off how nervous you are. the café is cozy and warm, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air as you slid into a booth across from billie. she handed you a menu, though you both already knew you’d order something simple. it was nearly seven now, and coffee at night usually wasn’t your thing— so you settled on ordering decaf. 

“so,” billie spoke, resting her chin on her hand as she watched you skim the menu. “what’s your go-to?”

“just a latte,” you said, setting the menu down. you rest your head on your hands, “well— not today. it’s too late for all that caffeine, so i think i’ll go with decaf. what about you?”

“black coffee,” she said with a shrug. she flips to the back of the menu, her movements smooth, “i like it bitter. keeps me sharp.”

you raised an eyebrow, unable to resist teasing her. you felt slightly more comfortable after her apology, like you really could be friends. you try joking around with her instead of her initiating the teasing while you try not to pass out. “yeah, bitter suits you.”

she laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. it makes you feel good that you could make her feel the same way she made you feel. “touché, princess. touché.”

when the drinks finally arrived, billie slid yours across the table to you, her fingers brushing against yours briefly as she passed you a straw. you ignored the spark of warmth that shot through you, focusing instead on the beautiful and intricate foam art in your cup.

“so,” billie started after a few moments of quiet, her tone casual but curious. she takes a sip of her coffee first before speaking again, and it’s astonishing how she doesn’t react at the taste of her bitter coffee. “why yale? what made you pick it?”

you took a sip of your latte, thinking about your answer. “it just felt right,” you said after a moment. “the programs, the campus, the challenge. it just… felt like where i was supposed to be. i wanted to be successful, and this seemed like the place to do it.” 

billie nodded, her blue eyes glossed with thoughtfulness, attentiveness, like she didn’t want to miss anything you could have to say. “that’s cool. i get that.”

“what about you?” you asked her, leaning forward slightly, trying to keep the conversation at an easy flow, “you said you like the library. is music the only thing you have interest in?”

she grinned, a hint of her usual playfulness returning. she sets her cup of coffee down, “wouldn’t you like to know?”

you rolled your eyes, but your curiosity was piqued, “well, yeah— that’s why i asked.”

“fine, fine,” she said, holding up her hands in mock defeat. “just joking with you. but i fuck with art a lot. i’m drawing constantly, and it’s a major reason why half the songs i’ve written are even written. music is just what i love the most, and i’d be a much better musician than an artist. i’m no picasso.” 

your eyebrows shot up in surprise, your head boding eagerly, “really? i didn’t know you were into art like that.”

“there’s a lot you don’t know about me, princess,” she said with a smirk. but then her expression softened. “music’s… it’s my thing. it’s how i make sense of the world, y’know? it’s kind of like my therapy. but art is like that, too. both go hand in hand.” 

you nodded, a small smile forming on your lips. you finish off your coffee, sipping until only ice remains. “that’s… really cool, billie. i think it’s amazing that you’re so passionate about it.”

she looked at you for a moment, her gaze steady and warm. “thanks,” she said softly.

the conversation flowed easily after that, the two of you sharing bits and pieces of your lives over coffee. by the time both of your cups were empty, you felt like you understood her a little better— and maybe, she wasn’t as intimidating as she seemed. 

you both finished up, as you stood to leave, billie pulled out her phone, handing it to you with a small grin. “here,” she pressed her phone into your hands, “put your number in. in case you hate the book and need to yell at me about it, of course.” 

you really didn’t know if this was the best idea. it was back and forth— somethings felt alright, but this felt like too much. 

but you can’t keep withdrawing yourself just because of how you feel. it’d be different if the both of you were feeling off, but you just felt like you were making things weird now. so you laughed, taking the phone and quickly typing in your number. “or, you know, if i actually like it,” you said, handing it back to her.

“yeah,” she said, her grin softening into something more genuine, “that too.”

you nodded at her, the both of you treading out of the coffee shop before splitting off onto your separate ways. you fished out your phone from your bag and put your headphones in, your music loud, but your thoughts seemingly louder. 

as you walked back to your dorm, the quiet night air pressed softly against your skin. the faint hum of streetlights buzzed above you, casting pools of golden light along the sidewalk, swallowing the shadow of your footsteps. you held your phone tightly in your hand, replaying the evening’s events over and over in your head.

billie’s apology had surprised you. it wasn’t just the words—though those had been unexpected, too—but the way she’d said them. there was no smugness, no teasing grin. she had been genuine. it wasn’t a side of her you’d ever anticipated seeing, and it left you feeling… conflicted.

you sighed, your thoughts chasing each other in circles, one that clearly had no end. you try to be honest with yourself— there was no denying that billie intrigued you. she was so different from anyone you’d ever known— bold and unpredictable, but also unexpectedly thoughtful in her own way. the way her face lit up when she talked about that book, how her excitement made you feel lighter, even when you were sure you didn’t want to.

even your own friends this morning couldn’t cheer you up. it wasn’t what you needed— their pestering, the plethora of questions that they always had to ask, you didn’t need any of that. but billie made you feel content, airy, like you could let loose a little bit, even when you didn’t feel up to it. 

you frowned, kicking at a loose pebble on the sidewalk. why does she even care so much about what i think? why does she want to know me? the question sat uncomfortably in your chest, its edges sharp and unclear. part of you wanted to write it off as just another one of her games, but another part —the part that noticed the way her voice softened when she apologized to you—wasn’t so sure.

then there was the way she’d looked at you, her blue eyes steady and piercing. it wasn’t like she was trying to figure you out —no, it was like she already had, and she was waiting for you to catch up. it made you feel seen in a way that was both thrilling and absolutely terrifying.

stop overthinking it, you told yourself firmly, shaking your head. but even as you tried to brush it off, her voice echoed in your mind, teasing and warm. 

you couldn’t help but smile at that, though you tried to stifle it. you wiped your face with a cold hand. billie had a way of getting under your skin, and it wasn’t always in a bad way. she just could easily read you, and it scared you a little bit. 

you kept walking as the worship music in your ears grew louder, the volume amplifying until you were sure your earbuds would explode if you turned it up anymore. you had to drown these thoughts out. 

you mumbled a quick prayer to yourself— for clarification, for help on making the right decision. but it felt empty. as some of these prayers always did. 

you always prayed about this. always prayed that these feelings would melt. it wasn’t the first time you felt like your heart was playing tricks on you— you always longed for more than what seemed right and true. but everytime you begged God to remove these feelings, everytime you sat in church and raised your hands when you worshipped, you always felt like in this area of your life, there was no response. 

it was unfair. how could you be so loved, but so neglected? so cherished, but your questions remained unanswered?

as your dorm came into view, you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your messages with her. they weren’t much—just casual exchanges, some teasing, some thoughtful. she had already asked you about the book, and you hadn’t even opened it yet, which made you chuckle to yourself. usually you’d always be cheesing at billie’s dry humor and constant pestering, but they made you smile in a way that felt… new.

what is happening to me? you wondered, your steps slowing as you neared the door. you weren’t sure you wanted to answer that question yet.

instead, you typed out a quick reply to her last text, something simple and sarcastic to keep the conversation going.

but as you walked into your room and shut the door behind you, you couldn’t ignore the tiny flicker of excitement in your chest. you were so engrossed in your thoughts until you saw emma, literally sitting on your bed while scrolling through her phone. 

you froze in the doorway, your thoughts of billie screeching to a halt. “emma?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion and a hint of exasperation. “why are you on my bed?”

she didn’t even look up, her fingers swiping across the screen with practiced ease. she spoke nonchalantly, “cause your bed’s more comfortable than mine. and my charger’s too short to reach my desk, so…”

you sighed, tossing your bag onto your chair and slipping off your shoes, shoving them into their designated spot in your closet. “em. you could’ve asked.”

“and ruin the element of surprise?” she grinned, finally glancing up at you. “besides, you were out late. so spill. where were you?”

“i wasn’t out late,” you argued, brushing past her to grab a bottle of water from your desk. “it’s barely nine.”

emma raised an eyebrow, setting her phone down. “okay, fine. but where were you? and why do you look… different?”

“i don’t look different,” you muttered, avoiding her gaze as you took a long sip of water from your bottle on your beside table. 

but emma wasn’t buying it. she hopped off your bed and crossed her arms, blocking your path back to your chair. you groaned— this wasn’t going to be easy to get out of. 

“you’ve got that look. like, the ‘something interesting happened but i don’t want to talk about it’ look. so? out with it. deets please.” 

you groaned, flopping onto your bed where she’d just been lounging. “it’s nothing, emma. i just—i ran into someone at the library, and we ended up getting coffee. that’s all.”

“someone?” her eyebrows shot up, and her grin widened. “wait, was it a someone someone? like, a certain diner singer someone?”

you felt your cheeks heat up instantly. “why would you even think that?”

“because you’re blushing,” she said smugly, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside you. she put her phone away, her attention completely focused on you, “so, was it billie?”

“fine, yes,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. there was no point in lying to the girl, so you kept it honest, “but it wasn’t like that. she apologized for the other night, and we just… talked.”

emma’s grin didn’t falter. if anything, it grew. “talked, huh? and now you’re all smiley and weird. sounds like more than just talking to me.”

“it wasn’t!” you insisted, though your voice lacked conviction, “she’s… complicated. but she was nice, and—ugh, i don’t know, emma. can we drop it? you’re always poking me about this.” 

“she’s nice, huh?” emma teased, nudging you playfully. “so, are we talking ‘nice’ as in friendly, or ‘nice’ as in ’i’d let her buy me coffee again’?”

you groaned again, grabbing a pillow and burying your face in it. you voice is muffled as you huff, “i literally hate you.”

“you love me,” she corrected, laughing as she poked your side, trying to grab the pillow from you, but you hold it tight. “but seriously, you don’t just light up like this for anyone. you’re into her, aren’t you?”

your muffled response came through the pillow. “i don’t like girls.”

emma finally pulled the pillow away with undying strength forcing you to look at her. her expression was softer now, more curious than teasing, “right, you don’t like girls— but you like her, and it’s okay if you don’t know. but, like, don’t shut it down just because it’s unexpected. maybe… see where it goes?”

you sighed, sitting up and hugging the pillow to your chest, “emma, i’m not gay. she’s just interesting, and fun to talk to— and the coffee was a bonus to her apology. i wasn’t going to turn that down. she’s cool, but i’m not into her, and i really wish that you and everyone else would stop trying to push this on me.” 

emma grows quiet. you’re clearly not in the mood, but she shrugs at you with a long sigh, “no one is pushing anything on you. it’s obvious that something's going on. i love you— but don’t take this out on us. if you’re confused, then fine, but don’t act like we’re forcing you to do something you literally aren’t already doing. be gay, don’t be gay— we don’t give a shit. you’re still my best friend, it was only jokes.” 

you didn’t respond. it kind of hurt, what emma said— but she was ultimately right. you couldn’t keep being so sensitive just because you couldn’t figure out your own feelings. it wasn’t fair to them, or anyone else, for that matter— it was between you and God alone. 

“i’m sorry.” you apologize, your voice thick with emotion, “i-i didn’t mean to. i’ll stop being so uptight.” 

she doesn’t necessarily know what you mean, but emma didn’t push. she just gave you a knowing smile and stood up, grabbing her phone from the desk. “well, whatever happens, i’ll be here to overanalyze it with you. i love you, okay? now, get some sleep, little lovebird.”

“goodnight, emma,” you muttered, sinking into your sheets as you heard the door slammed close, her footsteps eventually fading out. 

as the door clicked shut behind her, your heart began to race. there was so much going on, so much that made you feel unbalanced, unsteady. 

you reached for your phone, pulling the charger out and opening the Bible app. you clicked on your private notes and started writing, pouring your heart out in a way that felt vulnerable even to you. 

you wrote until your fingers ached. you wrote until you couldn’t see past the blanket of tears that covered your eyes. you were a mess— and you felt so…gross. all of this was wrong. you were too far gone now. 

you couldn’t be friends with billie. not right now, anyways. you couldn’t be friends with her because it was throwing you off your path. it was too much, and you didn’t necessarily adore the feeling of being confused. no matter what, this had to be the last time that you saw billie, that you—

your phone dings. a happy notification sailed across your screen, and you froze. 

billie: hey nerd. wanna hang out tomorrow after class? 

you let out a sigh, ignoring the message as you threw your phone onto the chair across from you lazily. you didn’t have the energy to respond, so you got up to flicker your lights off, forcing yourself to succumb to sleep. 

whatever you do— you have to get away from this girl, or she was going to ruin you. 

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[bri-cheeses]

Our Little Secret - Part 3

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 668 | Part two is here |

-

“Evan,” said Barty from behind him, but Evan didn’t stop walking. If he could only reached that stupid doorknob—

“Loretta Fieldwake, start of fifth year.”

Evan stopped.

Barty continued speaking. “The first girlfriend you had. Cas had to have the same talk with me. I just didn’t understand why. And the mistletoe was because I still didn’t understand why, but something felt different about kissing you than it did with any of our other friends. I spent that dinner trying to figure out why. And I wasn’t the one who broke up with Cooper in sixth year, he was the one who dumped me, because he said that I was too obsessed with you and that he didn’t want to be dating someone who so clearly wanted to be with someone else. And I was endlessly confused about what he was talking about, but I was ecstatic to have you start talking to me again after he was gone.

“In sixth year, all those runs you went on felt like a special form of torture, because you would come back all flushed and sweaty and I swear to Merlin that no one had ever looked better. I told Regulus about it, because I was confused and said I shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like that because you were my best friend and there were only platonic feelings between us. He looked at me like I was insane, but he let it drop. And I think that he must’ve looked at you like that because he was sad for the both of us. And I lied about Amortentia too, because I was starting to figure out something and I was terrified of naming it. And I took that shirt on purpose, even if I knew I shouldn’t have. I was just glad that you didn’t say anything about it.

“And last night everything got so twisted up and I finally forgot why I had been stopping myself from having a chance with you, and so I just… went for it. And you did, too, and it was great and amazing but I woke up this morning and panicked because I didn’t think you wanted me for anything more than a hook-up and I messed things up pretty catastrophically and, well, I’m just… sorry. But I’m not sorry to finally have the air cleared between us, because from the sound of it, we should’ve had this talk a long, long time ago.”

Evan didn’t turn around. Couldn’t, because once he did then everything would shatter and he’d wake up from whatever wonderful dream state he’d gone into where Barty liked him back and they had a chance to actually have something between them.

Barty’s voice sounded from close behind him—he must’ve walked closer after he had finished speaking—and his voice was soft but hopeful.

“Rosie?” he said, and something about the way he said it had Evan turning around before he could stop himself.

Barty was still holding the clothes that Evan had dumped in his arms, and he was looking at Evan nervously. Another sock dropped from the pile.

Evan laughed wetly, his eyes filled with unshed tears.

“I told you not to call me that,” he said

Barty’s mouth quirked up into a half smile. “Somehow, I didn’t think you’d mind this time.”

Evan laughed again and shook his head, then stepped closer to Barty and gabbed the collar of his shirt.

“You’re infuriating,” he said, pulling Barty into him.

The clothes dropped to the floor with a soft thud as Evan buried his face into Barty’s neck and laughed, shaking with years of not-quite’s and almost-there's, but feeling like everything in the world was finally making sense, there in their dorm room with Barty’s arms wrapped around him.

“I may be infuriating,” Barty hummed, tilting his head so it rested on top of Evan’s, “but I’m starting to think that you don’t mind it so much.”

“No,” Evan said into his shoulder. “I don’t mind it at all.”

-

(The End!)

[beefrobeefcal]

KEPT feat. Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

Summary: You might just have bitten off more than you can chew by possibly becoming Javi G's sugar baby.

Pairing: Javi G x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 5,369

PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING Content Warnings: smut (p in the v intercourse), imbalanced power dynamics, birth of a toxic relationship, alluded sugar baby/sugar daddy relationship (not officially called it in this fic), slight dub-con (Javi is the aggressor, but reader is consenting), talk of weight gain, ambiguous ending, Javi jerking off, clothes tearing, pet names and a few sentences in Spanish manipulation, swearing, this is not your regular Javi G - he is overweight and a complex man with many facets [might have some BigFish energy here]

Author's Notes: This was written for my beloved @noxturnalpascal, who requested this way back when we were celebrating 900 friendos and I have finally delivered! I don't know if I nailed the request all the way but Javi is fat in this so I got one thing right!

Thank you to @noxturnalpascal, @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3 & @bitchesuntitled for their wonderful eyes, minds and grammatical skills. Also tagging @xdaddysprincessxx bc this is right up her alley.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

“You hear who’s coming to the office today?”, Loretta, one of the legal support staff members whispered as you used the photocopier by her desk.  

You smiled as you correlated your documents and fed them through the copier. “Who?” 

Her grin widened. “Javi Gutierrez.” 

It had been a long time since you’d seen Javier Gutierrez - not since before his big Hollywood break, courtesy of Nic Cage. You’d gotten the low down on his current events from people in the law office you worked in, given your boss, Craig, was one of the partners at the firm representing him as his entertainment lawyer and had done most of Javi’s legal work remotely. Your last interaction with him had been nothing short of unforgettable as he was congratulating you on your promotion to becoming your boss’s executive assistant – a role you resented given your education. He’d curled his tongue around your name as he took your hand into his larger one, then let his eyes wander over your frame. You’d returned the intensity of his gaze in kind and put his broad shoulders and soft-yet-sturdy frame, his pouty lips, gorgeous nose, and deep brown eyes to memory. If it had been the first and only time you’d met, you would’ve sworn it was love – or lust – at first sight. But you’d met with him many times over several months and each time, he seemed ever so slightly bolder.  

That was almost three years ago.  

You looked at Loretta and she grinned wildly. She was there when Javi had asked about you once you’d moved up in the company and no longer handled his affairs, and noted the disappointment that flickered in his eyes when her boss would tell him again that you wouldn’t be joining the meeting. She’d bothered you and teased you about this, but you’d tried to act aloof. Oddly, she’d only let up when she saw him again about six months ago, randomly telling you about the encounter. Her bringing him up again now seemed oddly suspicious. 

“Loretta…”, you sighed. “What gives?” 

“Just thought you’d like to know. He’s coming here. To the office. Today.”, she grinned incredulously. 

You gave her an irritated scoff as you collected your documents, copied and printed. “Not sure what you’re playing at.” 

You turned and walked from her desk as she called out to you. “Might not recognize him anymore. Figured I’d give you a heads up!” 

You shook your head and walked back to your office.  

***** 

A few hours later, you were buried in case law regarding a dispute over the ownership of vintage hand-blown glass dildos when there was a knock at your door.  

Not looking up from the file folder, you called out, “Come in!” 

The door opened and you heard his honey toned voice. “Hola hermosa.” 

Your head shot up and the person who you’d assumed that voice would be coming from was not standing in your office. This man had the same eyes and nose and lips, but his frame was larger and softer. The pale blue dress shirt he wore was tucked into his tailored sand-coloured chinos and his belly stretched both to their limit. Your eyes roved over his body as your brain screamed at you to say something. 

“M-Mr. Gutierrez!”, you finally spat out with a smile. “Oh… wow, you’re here!” 

He gave you a slightly nervous smile, seeming to be just as flustered as you felt but was better at hiding it than you were.  

“Sí, yes, here I am.” 

You awkwardly exchanged pleasantries standing either side of your desk before your office phone rang, pulling you both out of the trance of your meeting.  

He motioned to your phone with a nervous smile and asked, “Do…. Do you need to get that?” 

The smile dropped from your face, and you clumsily reached for the phone, pulling it off the cradle and up to your ear. Before you could even start the first utterings of ‘Hello’, Craig began a f-bomb laden tirade, ripping into you about that Miller vs. Miller case that he had bungled and was in turn getting heat from his partners about. Momentarily forgetting that you had someone else in the room with you, you rolled your eyes and silently sighed, then caught Javi out of the corner of your eye and straightened up, mouthing ‘sorry!’ to him. But he no longer looked nervous or bashful. Gone was his sweet smile and big, brown baby cow eyes; in their places was a tight-lipped scowl and dark, storm filled eyes, glowering at your phone. You furrowed your brows in confusion at him and watched as he reached forward, pressed down on the receiver, and ended the call. You stood motionless and gob smacked, staring at him wide-eyed. 

He kept staring back at you, his eyes like dark, burning embers, seconds away from causing a flash fire, when you heard the heavy and quick footsteps of Craig.  

He threw your door open and stormed into your office. “What the fuck is wrong with y- Mr. Gutierrez!” 

Craig’s eyes almost bulged out of his head as Javi turned and looked at him, narrowing his eyes.  

“What are you – I thought you’d left!” Craig tried to hide his nerves behind a chuckle and moved to shake his hand. 

Javi didn’t move. His arms stayed firmly at his sides, both fists clenched.  

“I had business to attend to with your assistant.” His voice was cold as he spoke through clenched teeth. “And you are interrupting.” 

“B-business? With her?”, Craig prattled, pointing at you. 

“Yeah.”, Javi nodded with a vicious smile. “Business. With her.” 

You swallowed hard as you watched Javi control the room with a quiet fury. Craig was not a small man, but Javi seemed to grow larger and more intimidating with each movement he made, no matter how small or minute.  

Craig took a step back, recognizing that Javi was mad, and he was more than likely the reason for it. You needed to diffuse the situation, knowing if you didn’t and Craig lost Javi as a client, you’d be in the doghouse, and hot-tempered words would be the least of your problems. 

“I’m sure that any business you have to discuss, Mr. Guiterrez, Craig is the more capable out of the two of us.” You kept your voice bright and feminine and forcing a sweet smile on your face.  

Javi’s head snapped to you, his look giving you a silent warning, then slipped into a wry grin.  

“Of course! How silly of me!”, he chuckled a little too keenly, smiling at Craig, setting him a little more at ease. “Of course, I should discuss with you that I’m poaching your employee and firing you as my legal representation.” 

 ***** 

You weren’t really sure how you ended up sitting across from Javi on his private yacht in the Mediterranean. It had been less than 48 hours since you were escorted out of the law office with a small box of your personal effects and slid into Javi’s limo. It was a whirlwind of packing a few things, grabbing your passport, and being told that you’d never have to worry again as long as you agreed. Agreed to what? You weren’t sure and Javi insisted that business would be discussed once you were settled. 

You nodded, not realizing that ‘settled’ meant being on a yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean.  

“Hermosa, I  -“ 

“Mr. Gutierrez, I think th-“ 

“Javi.” 

“What?” 

“Call me Javi.” 

You took a breath and nodded. “Javi. I think tha-“ 

“I love hearing you say my name.” 

You smiled, slightly confused and a little nervous at the way he smiled at you. He picked up his champagne flute and clinked it against yours, then downed the contents and waved the glass at one of the staff who then quickly filled it again. 

“Uh… Javi. I think that we should talk business n-“ 

“You’re more beautiful than I remembered.” 

You sat stunned. You were jet lagged, unemployed, and completely disoriented. You didn’t feel beautiful and, gauging by the warped reflection of yourself in the grapefruit spoon at your place setting, you didn’t look it either. 

“I… uh… oh. Thank you?” 

He chuckled and flashed his smile at you. “I was so excited when I knew I’d be in your office and get to see you again.” 

You gave him a tight smile as you started to lose patience. You fidgeted with your napkin and tried to hold back your temper.

“Javi. I think we really need t-”

“You looked even more perfect than I remembered.”, he cooed with a dopey grin on his face. “But I have to say, hermosa, you look a little-uh… stressed.”

“Well, Javi, that is because I would like to talk with you about whatever business you managed to have me quit my job and fly all the way to the Mediterranean and sit here jet lagged with you for!”

You blurted out quickly before he could interrupt in a sharp tone that became harsher and snappier as you spoke. When you were done, both you and Javi sat staring at one another in a stalemate.

Your shoulders rose and fell, and you cocked your head and raised your eyebrows, daring him to provide an answer.

A few seconds passed before a huge smile erupted on Javi’s face. His eyes were wide and his pupils were nearing the size of his irises, leaving the deep brown engulfed in them. His own breathing was a bit labored, almost panting, and he licked his lips, and growled. “Yes… yes, mi amada [my darling]. You are perfect.”

“Perfect for what?!”, you demanded, standing up and slamming your fists on the table. 

Javi looked as though he may either pass out or orgasm, nodding dumbly as he looked up at you. 

“Perfect for me. Perfecto para mí y mis millones [Perfect for me and my millions]. I need someone like you, mi amada. Someone like you on my arm at events and next to me during business meetings. Someone who not only has the beauty but also the brains!”, he declared dramatically. He then stood up to face you, banging his own fists on the table. “And the passion!”

You stared at him, your own frustration temporarily paused as your confusion took over. “What?”

“You shall be with me, guiding me, helping me throughout my business ventures. And in return, all I ask is that you let me take care of you.” His voice was calmer but there was an undertone of dominance. He paused, then said with a darker, slightly sinister tone, “And we are going to make sure you look lovely doing it all.”

+++++

You sat in your private room on the yacht, staring at yourself in the mirror. It had been just shy of 11 months since you’d arrived and your whole life felt surreal. You’d been to parties with people you’d only ever seen in magazines as you waited to buy your milk, you’d been handed a credit card made of metal - apparently having no limit - and told to shop for a whole new wardrobe. You’d been gifted with jewelry that seemed too ornate to be real, but came with certification papers proving otherwise. Even your slippers were worth more than a month of your previous salary.

Because of all this, you didn’t feel you could say no to Javi’s requests. It started out with him asking. He would ask you to join him for a meeting, you would go. He would ask you to wear a specific shade of azure for a party, and you agreed. Then his asking turned to requesting, and then turned to him just telling you. He would tell you when to go to bed and when to wake up, when to eat, when to work out, when to shop, when to relax… He was always kind and gentlemanly when he did dictate what your next move would be, but there was an undercurrent of “or else” with each order.

There was one thing he still only asked of you - and didn’t demand - to call him Javi. He said once that he felt like you were othering and demeaning yourself when you called him Mr. Gutierrez. That, and he remarked that he loved the sound of his name on your lips.

The only thing he hadn’t demanded of you - or mentioned at all - was sex. Some nights, he would retire to his room, and there was never an inkling of him waiting for you to follow, nor did he ever express any interest in entering your private quarters, regardless if you were on the yacht or one of his villas. You never shared a room; in fact, any bookings were made to have as much space as possible between your quarters. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t catch him looking you over. There is one dress you figured out that he really liked you in. You’d bought it in a soft pink colour, and after wearing it once, 16 of the same dress in various colours appeared in your closet soon after. When you walked into parties and events, he would hold you close to his body, his hand on the small of your waist and he would keep you there all evening. Without giving you the strict instructions verbally, his body language alone told you that you were there for him and him alone -  no one else. During fancy dinners, if anyone spoke directly to you, his hand would migrate slowly to your knee and halfway up your thigh. It wasn’t a warning, it was more of a reminder. 

You were lonely every night. Yes, you had any and everything money could buy, but there was no emotional connection. You’d never brought it up to him but in the contract you’d signed, there was a clause that forbade you from having intimate relationships with anyone while you were ‘employed’ by him. Javi was denying you the chance to find love so he could have you by his side - untouched and unloved.

The idea that he had essentially bought you should have made you recoil in horror. Instead, it left you most nights, whimpering his name into your fist as you came on your vibrator, imagining his weight slamming into you or him under you, gripping your hips as you rode him. But they were only fantasies; fantasies that were becoming harder to ignore.

The way his fingers would gently graze your collar bone to brush the hair away as he adorned your neck with a new necklace. How he would straighten out your shoulder straps. The way he would look you in the eye for just a brief moment before asking if you were ready as the car came to a stop in front of the venue. All of it said he wanted something more; so why did he not just tell you what to do?

You’d decided as you ate breakfast that that evening, post dinner, you were going to broach the topic. He had said that you could speak freely about anything, as long as it was never in front of anyone else -  you had to be alone.

The day had been uneventful, filled with meetings and business calls. By the time you were back in your quarters on the yacht, getting ready for dinner, the mundanity of the day had almost erased the reminder to ask for a moment alone with him. You quickly fixed your makeup then changed into one of the dresses you know he enjoyed. 

Javi smiled up at you as you walked into the dining room. He stood up, as did the other two men who sat at the table, and moved to take your hand and pull out your chair. His eyes trailed up and down your body and a satisfied smirk adorned his mouth.

He moved in to kiss your cheek as he took your hand, softly breathing out, “You look beautiful tonight.” His words smelled of whiskey. 

You leaned in quickly after he softly kissed you, and responded.“I’d like to sp-.”

He interrupted you with a quiet yet firm, “No.”, then winked and gave you his characteristic half grin as he pulled back. His fingers gently nipped your chin so demeaningly, then motioned for you to take your seat.

You felt deflated, never having been denied anything like that by him before.

+++++

Dinner, while delicious, was nothing of note. The men were talking amongst themselves, occasionally including you, while they got even more drunk and ate their food. You just sat there pushing your fork through your food, keeping a sweet smile on your face as you internally panicked about what you had done to upset him or if Javi knew what you were going to talk about and that’s why he cut you off.

It seemed that being lost in your own thoughts made time pass quickly; before you realized it, your barely-touched plate was being removed from in front of you and Javi was standing with a slight waver to see his dinner guests off. You looked up at him, noting how apparent his enjoyment of dinner was by the stretching of his buttons across his belly and glazed look in his eyes.

You stood up as you were abruptly brought out of your thoughts and Javi gave you a predatory smile, a slight chill in the way his lips curved insincerely.

“Mi amada, if you please. I think it’s time for you to retire.”

You fought the lump in your throat and forced a small, polite smile onto your face. 

“Oh… of course, Mr. Gutierrez.” 

You held eye contact with him for a beat and he looked back at you with his jaw tightened, then turned to leave the room. You could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head, and you hoped that using formalities when he had almost begged you to not would give him a taste of how disappointed and hurt you were. 

+++++

You were back to sitting at your vanity, post shower and in your silk night robe, removing the last remnants of your makeup. You’d cried once you got back to your room, and again in the shower, feeling so humiliated that you’d let yourself fall for a man who clearly wanted you around for keeping up appearances and nothing more.

You replayed every interaction you’d had with him, trying to see where you’d misinterpreted his actions, his touches, his gaze, making yourself feel even more humiliated and foolish for convincing yourself you were just seeing what made your ego take less of a beating over being this man’s paid arm candy. You had an excellent education and were on track to doing great things and now you were whoring yourself out for a hollow lifestyle that was never meant for you. 

After the last smudge of mascara was removed and your night cream was absorbed into your skin, you heard Javi down the hallway. You paused and listened, hoping he might stop at your door, but he continued past it and towards his room. Sitting on the chair, your mind whirled. You could just wait until morning to confront him, to demand that he release you from this humiliation and torment. You’d had enough. If he was unwilling to give you what you wanted then you wanted out. 

It took you some time to get riled up enough and have the courage to rip open your door, stomp down the hallway and bang on his door. At first, there was no answer, then you heard what could have been a ‘come in’, but you couldn’t be sure. You waited a moment, then heard another sound, and decided that was all the permission you needed to enter.

The door was unlocked, and you pushed it open and stepped into the entryway of his suite. You heard a grunt and a few heavy breaths. Your brows furrowed and you stepped around the corner to see Javi seated on his couch, pants around his calves, his shirt buttons open over his belly, one hand pumping his erect cock furiously and his other bunching a pair of panties that were unmistakably yours under his nose.

You covered your mouth as you gasped and he looked up, wide eyed, his hand stopping and squeezing his cock. 

“Oh god! Jav-Mr. Gutierrez! I am - I am so sorry!”

He stood up clumsily, pulling his pants up and stepped towards you, helplessly panting your name. You turned and tried to bolt, but as you opened the door, Javi’s arm shot out and shoved it closed with a loud slam. His body was behind you and his heavy, whiskey-laden breaths were painting the back of your neck. Your hand was still on the door knob and the hand he held up on the door came down over it. His other softly came to your hip, gently holding you in place.

“Mi amada.”, he breathed as his lips tentatively ghosted over your skin. “Por favor quédate [please stay].”

You almost choked on how dry your mouth had gotten, and you trembled slightly in his hold. You knew he was drunk and that this wasn’t supposed to be how it happened, but you wanted more than it made you uncomfortable. The hand on your hip moved, his palm now splayed below your belly button and he pulled you back against him, his stomach forcing you to arch your back. 

“Please. Just…” His voice sounded desperate and he pressed his still-hard cock against your backside. “Don’t run…”

“M-Mr. Guti-”

“Please, for the fucking love of god!”, he snarled through rough breaths,angrily squeezing you harder against him. His large hand grabbed your wrists, holding them firmly against your chest and the other came down and began bunching your night robe up in the front, exposing your thighs and black lace panties. He forced his hand between your legs and cupped your mound. “How many fucking time do I have to ask you? Beg you??”

You struggled against his hold and let out shallow breaths as his fingers pushed against the scrap of fabric and felt them becoming damper with your arousal. He roughly pushed your panties aside and the pad of his fat finger found your clit, circling it roughly. You whined out, gasping and dropped your head forward, watching his hand be engulfed at the crux of your thighs.

“Try it again… what’s my name?”

You were slipping under his spell until he spoke, being brought back to reality when his tone was less pleading and more commanding. Then you were reminded of why you were coming to confront him in the first place and you felt the determination to at least make this harder for him ignite.

“Mr. Gutier-”

His hand came up quickly, and his fingers slick with you gripped your chin, turning it to face him. 

“Don’t you dare do this.”

You stared at him, your breath hitching with the tension in your body. The haze of alcohol was in his eyes and you couldn’t help but continue to tremble in his hold, given the way you were restrained against him.

“Mr. Gu-”

As soon as the first syllable left your mouth, his eyes burned and anger erupted over his face. He yanked you back away from the entryway, cursing under his breath in growls and tossed you onto his bed. You tried pushing yourself up, adrenaline and arousal screaming through your body, but his large frame stood over you and he gripped your ankles, hauling your backside to the edge of the mattress and the force of his pull made you fall back again.

“So fucking difficult. I give you everything you could ever want and you can’t be decent enough to even use my name.”, he snarled as he got onto his knees on the floor. “You walk through my halls, adorned in my gifts to you, but you won’t even use my name!”

His fingers dug into your thighs harshly, and you squirmed. It didn’t deter him, and each time you moved, his grip tightened. 

“And then tonight, you show up for dinner looking so fucking beautiful and you sit at my table and you woo my guests. You’re testing me, mi amada.” Javi’s words come out in a low snarl. You felt one of his hands grip your panties’ waistband and rip the flimsy fabric off you. You yelped out at the sudden snap! followed by him pulling your thighs further apart and he grunted as he moved his face closer to your core.

He sighed and his voice was softer. “Teasing me. I can’t have you like I want, hermosa.” He pressed his face into your cunt and inhaled, forcing a choked gasp from you. “Te quiero tan mala, mi amada [I love you so much, my darling]. You can’t have it both ways.”

You let your hand move down to his hair and you gently let the tips of your fingers feel how soft it was. The caramel streaks mixed with the deep mahogany curls felt like heaven, and the way his head moved with each breath caused the soft light to catch the odd grey woven into the beautiful waves of his hair. He closed his eyes and laid his cheek on your inner thigh, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself this comfort.

“Javi…”

His eyes shot open and he looked up at you through his brows menacingly. “Oh, now you want to behave?”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, shaking your head. What had he done to you? He was reducing you to a needy mess, with no hope of having a backbone with him again.  “Javi…”

“You’re so fucking sweet when you want something, huh?”

He pulled his heavy body up from the floor, his normally fluid movements slightly awkward from the whiskey, and stood at his full height. Pulling off his jacket, his eyes stared daggers at you.

“Take that off, mi amada. Or you want me to buy you a new one of those, too?” He spat out at you as his mouth pinched in a bitter scowl as he stared at you, and you knew that was an order, not a real question.

You sat up and began removing the robe, but you weren’t moving fast enough. He reaches forward and ripped it off your body, tossing it onto the floor. You were shaking at this point from pure adrenaline, arousal and fear. Your arms quickly covered your chest but his hands yanked them away. “Don’t you fucking dare! I want to see what my money has gotten me.”

He released you and stood up, licking his lips and smirking as his eyes stared at your tits. He shoved his already open pants and briefs down, and his thick, hard cock bobbed heavily, slapping against his full belly.

“J-Javi…” Your voice came out in a meek whimper.

He pumped his cock. He smiled darkly back at you, and sneered,  “That’s right, hermosa. Fucking Javi.”

The smile and his movement towards you egged you on. “H-how do you want me?”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest as he kneeled between your parted legs on the bed and shoved you back down. He lifted your knees, then gripped his cock and lined it up with your entrance, and loomed over you menacingly.

“I want you to take it like you take everything else I give you. With a thank you and a fucking smile.”

Javi pushed in, the pressure and stretch forcing the breath from your lungs. You clung to him and as he buried himself as deeply as he could, Javi grabbed your leg, securing your ankle on his shoulder, and began pounding into you. Any memories you had of his soft touch and gentleness were turned to ash in that moment with how hard he was fucking you, but you were reveling in it. Even if this isn’t what you thought you wanted, you took solace in the truth of it all - you were right. He did want you; you didn’t misread the signs. Closing your eyes, you lost yourself in the feeling of him and the thought of how right you were and smiled as he pounded into you, groaning praises about your pussy. 

He pulled out and shoved you down onto your side and flopped down onto the bed behind you. Engulfing you in his arms, he slipped back in and pounded into you from behind. He held you firmly and your hands gripped his thick wrists. His sweaty body was sticking to yours, and he pushed his bulk halfway on top of you, crushing you sideways into the mattress and his mouth was sucking sloppy kisses onto your shoulder, face and neck. It was overwhelming; the heat and the friction and the stretch and the way he was coating you in his alcohol-infused sweat and spit - you could feel your climax building. You wanted him to stop but you needed him to keep going.

“Feel so fucking good, mi amada… m’close…”…”

Crying out, you came and he groaned and bit down hard on your shoulder. You writhed and squirmed, screaming into the mattress, as his thrusts fell into disarray. Your core was spasming as he fucked into you a few more times, grunting and panting through the clenched teeth in your flesh, then he went rigid and stilled. 

Both of your breathing was rapid and staggered as your bodies relaxed. His bite lifted and he kissed the angry skin softly, then he sighed.

“I can’t, mi amada.”

Javi disengaged from you and pulled away. He stumbled as he got up, pulled on his night robe and left his room. You laid in silence alone, waiting to see if he would return. Eventually, you got up and went back to your suite, no Javi in sight.

+++++

The days that followed bore nothing that would have hinted at your encounter other than the invites in your e-calendar for upcoming meetings had been wiped clean, your schedule was now open and both your night robe and black lace pantied had been replaced silently without your knowledge. 

Javi was distant, but still kind. The odd hand on your leg still happened, but the gentle looks and soft edges of his words were missing. 

One evening after you had been dismissed from the dinner table, signaling that he didn’t need you in a meeting you had organized, he knocked at your door. 

You opened your door and he pushed his way in without a ‘hello’, and crowded you against the wall, pushing his mouth to yours. His hands were trying to make quick work in getting your clothes off. 

Shoving him back, you yelled angrily, “Javi! What the fuck?”

The same fury you knew was written all over your face was staring back at you in his. He stepped towards you again.

“What? This not what you wanted?”, he sneered, grabbing your waist and pulling you towards him. 

“No! Not like this! I wanted - “

“No!”, he barked. “No! You cannot have it like that!”

“Javi - why? I though you want- -”

“Thought i wanted what? Wanted you as my partner? My fucking equal?”

You stared up at him, feeling your heart sink and your eyes start to sting with unshed tears, and the realization of what he was saying washed over you. You really couldn’t have it both ways.

Sensing that you were finally understanding him, he leaned in, mouth ghosting over yours and said softly, “You think just because you finally got what you wanted that I'll let you have a say?”

He nudged his nose against yours and shook his head slightly, keeping his tone soft. “If you wanted me to respect you and your opinions on my business, then you should have kept your fucking legs closed.”

You sucked a breath in and your chin quivered. The tears that had threatened to fall finally did. He nodded and kissed you and you didn’t push him off you again. He may have won this round but you were smart and we’re ready to demand that seat back at his table in due time.

You weren't going down without a fight.

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