#SO CORNY BUT IT HAD TO BE DONE

[surreal-duck]

some business to take care of

[daily-beast-wirt-brainrot]

[Day 11] || Vitreous hemorrhage is the presence of blood in the vitreous humor. A small amount causes blurring of the vision. Large amounts of blood can make the vitreous humor opaque and cause near-complete vision loss. ||

As time persists, branches begin to grow not only on his exterior but on his insides as well. He begins to partially lose his sight as well as his ability to speak until he himself becomes one with the trees, forever wandering the abyss that is the Unknown.

[pacific-coast-hockey]

ok now that that last post has popped out of the queue, can i just be corny for a second and say @drew-remenda idk if you're checking notes on a sideblog, but thank you SO much for not deleting your blog. it's such a beautiful and perfect time capsule of the sharks from 2012-2014 and i feel so certain a record this encompassing does not exist for free anywhere else, given how yahoo and the nhl keep restructuring their websites, google is unusable, everything on the internet behind a paywall etc. it's truly such a gift to have all these photos from a decade+ ago available on tumblr. going through all 168 pages of your blog in one night and queuing the posts that delighted me most, and then watching as newer AND older fans have reacted and shared the photos has been so joy-inducing for me. it's been truly such a lovely moment of watching the past grow present in sharkudablr this week.

also a wonderful reminder that no matter what, sharks fans will always latch onto some random fucking guy...long may jamie mcginn reign. thank you so much for not deleting 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️

[borgialucrezia]

the borgias is my favorite show and i think it's the best show ever made and all. however, there's just this one aspect that is genuinely hilarious to me and i mostly criticize the show for. the writers suddenly trying to make the viewers massively despise juan by turning against him and disingenuously writing him in his final moments so the watchers won't miss him or sympathize with him by making him a walking danger as an excuse to kill him off and prop up cesare's character. they wanted the audience to root for cesare at juan's expense and make his death seem necessary lol. they truly thought they served with this one, like maybe juan's character was shamefully abandoned by the writers (as well as his family except for rodrigo) but david oakes had many people sold with the way he played him to perfection, improvising and making juan remarkable, tremendous, and humane. the show is obviously a classic masterpiece, but in my opinion about the juan part, simply rushing the writing of a tragic dying character on a show for weak reasons is pure disrespect.

[imtrashraccoon]

Just a thought but imagining Nightmare in a fairy tale where he would be the prince is so funny because he's an evil and grumpy guy and would be the second villan or something

on that note. Rapunzel Au.

I'm reminded of the fairy tale about the swan princes who's sister had to make them coats so they could turn back into humans again. I'm otherwise not super familiar with fairy tales lol.

This is funny to picture!

Mkay. cracks fingers

Here is a quick spitball for a Rapunzel AU.

The queen is about to give birth to the Royal family's first child, however she falls ill and like in the original fairy tale, someone steals the witch's flower. Although this time, it's not a flower but a magic apple. The apple cures the queen's illness and she gives birth.

The witch is angry that her source of eternal youth was stolen and she decides to steal the Royal family's new child out of revenge. Only there's two children instead of one. The witch steals them away for nefarious witchy purposes but is nearly caught and so only manages to escape with one - Dream.

Nightmare is injured in the commotion, possibly being dropped by accident, but is ultimately rescued and survives his injuries. The kingdom mourns the loss of one of their young princes but life goes on.

Dream is a happy child and grows up in a secluded tower, far away from the kingdom in a forest. He's kept from the world outside by his supposedly loving mother, the witch. Maybe he makes a few odd friends like Ink or other wanderers but he never gets to see them or actually leave the tower.

Meanwhile, Nightmare also grew up and took the throne after his mother died; maybe there was an attempted coup or something. He was cold and often cruel to those who'd supposedly wronged him, earning himself quite the fearsome reputation. The problem is, his injury left him disfigured and he often struggles to function at the same level as those around him. He's also incredibly lonely but has no one willing to be friends with him. Maybe he creates an inner circle of men he tasks with doing the dirty work.

MC is a dashing rogue that has earned a rather high bounty. They stumble upon the tower one day while on the run after a job (possibly from the Royal Guard) and meet Dream. After some humourous shenanigans, they agree to take him to go see the outside world since he's been wanting to leave for a while. Maybe Ink tags along for fun and they meet some other interesting characters, like Blue who's an aspiring guard.

They travel around and see the sights of the kingdom. Their presence doesn't escape Nightmare's eye and he sends some of his men after them. (Cue Horror, Killer, and Dust.) Dream and MC don't know why Nightmare is after them but they really don't want to be caught. So an epic fight scene ensues!

Eventually, there is a confrontation with Nightmare and Dream actually recognizes him but doesn't know why. Nightmare doesn't either and hesitates to attack them. MC decides to be a hero and creates a distraction so that Dream can escape.

Dream finds himself in the forest again which is where the witch finds him and acts overjoyed to see him alive and well. The witch entreats him to return to the tower where it's safe and he does, for a time. During his time in the kingdom, he heard the tale of the lost prince and eventually he realizes that he's that prince. His "mother" only wants him for his healing powers and so he confronts her but it doesn't go well.

Meanwhile, Nightmare can't stop thinking about how familiar that golden skeleton felt and so he questions a captured MC. At first, they don't want to tell him anything but when they make the connection that Dream must be the lost prince, they agree to work together to find him.

MC is released and they make their way back to the tower, although the guards are slower to follow. They find Dream has been tied up and go to free him, only to be attacked by the witch. Nightmare arrives just in time and turns the tide of the fight. He can't kill the witch on his own, despite how powerful his magic is, and it takes the combined efforts of everyone to finally slay her.

With the witch dead, Dream returns to the kingdom with his brother and they work together to rule fairly. Although, Dream has a habit of sneaking out to go see his friends, which irritates Nightmare to no end, until he is eventually persuaded to by his men to join in as well of course!

[mc-tummy-blur]

Really only watched The January Man for Alan Rickman and I was right to do so because he was one of the few good things in this dogwater movie. Need more love for Ed the Painter actually

He really showed up in those fuckass outfits not giving a shit about social cues or the cops as he painted both traditionally and digitally he is my everything I'd give him a lil smooch and a proper meal

Also the movie becomes more enjoyable if I view these three as a Polycule and they were just having odd dates throughout the movie

[clumsypuppy]

if escape rooms as team building exercises became popular im not sure if id be more excited or terrified

[peaches2217]

Dammit brain I’m trying to go to BED, couldn’t you have laid this on me at a more REASONABLE HOUR

[hideouspumpkin]

Started s4 and I understand why I scrapped that whole season out of my memory right after seeing it when it came out…that was bad

[90stvqueen]

the hardest part about writing is all the grinding you have to do in order to earn the ending

[feline-evil]

Now we're nearing the end of my move (fucking finally) i can safely say that if i had not had the Song of Salvation on repeat for large stretches of time during this i do not think i would've made it through as well as i have

[noomyguts]

all the themes of this show fell flat like they couldn't commit to the characters, the landscape, the mystery, or the tech setting

[tracle0]

Previous - here First - here

Thanks for reading!

[shysuccubusstuff]

Size difference with Caleb!

Content: Non proof-reader; Established relationship + Size difference (duh) + Tummy bulge (so unrealistic) + Manhandling + Mating press + Overstimulation

Summary: When does Caleb notice just how big he is in contrast with you?

Note: Thank you so so much for the idea!! I hope you like it, dear @dishoneykisses ♡ Sorry if it's a bit short/not what you expected...

Kind reminder that petite body is solely based on the height, plus my sweetie pie Caleb is a strong boy! No need to feel ashamed about your weight with him!

Caleb notices the size difference when...

He's cooking with you by his side. He is too engrossed on having the correct measures for the perfect mix between the spices and the sweetness of the sugar, when he suddenly notices you trying to reach the ceramic plates. You are trying your best to reach them, having to get on your tip toes and stretching your arm as much as possible just so you can get that one plate that you needed. Before you notice, Caleb is already behind you, his hips brushing against your rear, sending shivers down your spine as you felt his warmth behind you. "Be careful pips, surely you don't want them to fall on your head? Next time just let me know so I can help you." Caleb rubs your hair before focusing once again on finishing the recipe.

He's taking care of you during your period. As soon as you told him that your period had started, it took him less than a few hours to suddenly appear in front of your door. His shoulder carrying a huge bag filled with God knows what. After Caleb is done giving you all the treats he had brought, and then letting you choose between more than four different brands of pads and tampons, he finally let you lay on top of him, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. It was during this time that he realised just how small you were, with your feet barely reaching somewhere between under his knees and his own feet. He couldn't help but feel a bit tempted to grab you press you against him just because of how cute you were.

He goes to hug you. It is quite often that Caleb ends up rushing towards you, arms extended as he wraps them around you, lifting you up as if it was some kind of corny romance and then giving you a few twirls before carrying you in the bridal style. You hit his chest multiple times, trying to get him to let you down, as all the people were starting to stare at the two of you, but it wasn't as if Caleb really cared, after all, he was far too focused on repeating the scene in his mind, remembering the sweet scent that emanated from you, together with how light you had felt as he lifted you and carried you around. He worked out so much for something, after all!

He's fighting along side you. He isn't all that into letting you fight by his side, this was not a matter of seeing you as weak, of course. It was just that he had grown accustomed to being the one to protect you, so of course he felt uncomfortable with letting you get too close to the Wanderer... So when he suddenly has to rush towards you to cover you from the claw of one of them, as he grabs you and pushes you away from it, he is able to notice just how small you are, with his frame being completely able to cover your smaller one.

He's playing with you. Despite how much time has passed, Caleb still enjoys playing with you, from the board games such as kitty cards, to the claw machine, even the ones that you used to play when you were younger, the ones in which the two of you tried to fight against the other. So when you start to playfully get on top of him and try to push him against the couch, Caleb is debating whether to let you win or to use a bit of his strength to prove who is really in control. And he was about to choose the first option, but when you suddenly start to tease him about you being "way stronger" than him, it takes barely a few seconds for him to have you against the couch, cheeks pressing against it as you kept trying to squirm to get away from his grip around your wrists. "Surely you already know who is really in control, right pips?

He's under you. This was one of the many times in which you tried to make your point, telling him to let you ride him since you had been researching on it. Caleb agreeded, a smirk appearing on his face as he saw your legs starting to tremble as the minutes went by, tears falling down your cheeks as the overstimulation gets a bit too much for you. He knows you're trying your best, cheeks puffed as you kept feeling frustrated from not being able to set a proper rhythm, surely you wanted him to take care of you... right? So he suddenly grabbed your hips, using his evol to lift you with ease , suddenly increasing the gravity and forcing you on his cock, hitting with the tip that spongy spot inside you, forcing lewd moans and pleas as you sinked your nails on his shoulders, trying your best to not let him know just how much pleasure was he making you feel. It is then that Caleb notices something. A strange bulge that keeps moving each time he enters you as you let those indecent mewls while he kissed your glossy lips. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help but press it, putting his warm hands on top of it and making some pressure on it, making sure to rise it every time he lets your weight fall on his dick. "Gotta make sure I teach you how to fuck yourself, right? No time to rest, honey..."

He's balls deep inside you. The night had become a blurr the second you had started to drag your hands against his pelvis, always giving him poor excuses about you trying to find the popcorn that was clearly NOT there. You wanted to tease him? Just don't expect him to behave properly. Before you realised it, Caleb was already on top of you, his shirt thrown somewhere as he keeps forcing his cock inside you, fingertips interlocked as he keeps you under him, your back completely pressed against the couch as he keeps plummeting your insides, the wet sound of your poor cunt taking all his length filling the room, mixing with the obscene sounds that were leaving both Caleb's and your lips. "Too much Caleb! Tummy...! You're hitting... somewhere weird!" You try pressing your hands against his hips, giving him those puppy eyes as you try to get him to reduce the depth of his thrusts... Not like it would really work, of course. In fact, your little attempt only made him even harder, making him notice just how small your hands were in contrast with him, who was simply huge, in contrast with you. His weight squeezing you as he kept hitting your g-spot one after the other, making your eyes roll back to your skull each time, even taking advantage of it and staying there for a few seconds, cocky smile on his lips as he saw your flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. His eyes sometimes fixed on the creamy ring that had formed around his cock from all the times you had creamed around his cock... surely he could get to make you orgasm for the eighth time, right?...

Just how was he supposed to restrain himself from taking your petite body and fucking you against the first surface he could get to?!...

[eyeheartboobiez]

nicknames that bruce + the batboys would call you

warnings: sexual themes in jason’s part, fem!reader a/n: just sumn slight. enjoy😁

⁎⁺˳ 𝒷𝓇𝓊𝒸𝑒 ミ

❀ bruce grew up wealthy so he would definitely call you something more on the classy side

❀ things like darling, angel, dear, my love, etc.

❀ he also has a habit of referring to you as “my wife” (because he’s possessive asf)

❀ “sorry guys, i really can’t stay for another drink. i’ve got to get back to my wife.”

❀ “you said these shoes were dior? oh, im sure my wife would love these.”

❀ on the flip side, he also really likes referring to himself as your husband (one might say he does it for the ego boost)

❀ like whenever you too are meeting someone for the first time, he'll introduce you first and then only introduce himself as "your husband"

❀ because why should someone care about him, a mega rich billionaire, when his lovely and radiant wife is standing right next to him?

⁎⁺˳ 𝒹𝒾𝒸𝓀 ミ

❀ dick would definitely be the type to call you something super lovey-dovey and over the top

❀ sugarplum, honey bunches, buttercup, (and if he really wants to get on your nerves,) shnookums

❀ he knows it’s lame, but he genuinely doesn’t care

❀ since his love language is acts of service, you tend to hear a lot of "let me get that for ya, honeybun"

❀ or something like “hey sugarplum! im on my way home from work, you want me to pick up anything?”

❀ or even "don't worry about dinner honeylove, lemme take care of things tonight."

❀ regardless of how annoying it is, you can't help but love his teasing nicknames for you

❀ like you two are that annoying couple that everyone loves can't stand seeing at the function (i know valentine's day hatesss to see yall coming)

❀ off topic but if the two of you had a kid together, i imagine him nicknaming your daughter ‘love bug’ (AWWW)

⁎⁺˳ 𝒿𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 ミ

❀ despite his thick exterior, jason’s a lover boy at heart

❀ he’d call you stuff like babe, doll, sweetheart, hon, y’know all that cheesy stuff

❀ most importantly though, this boy lovesss to call you mama

❀ like for example, he usually likes to greet you with a casual "hey mama, you doin okay?" followed by a quick peck on the check

❀ or if you're being goofy trying to get him to feel better, he'll probably say something like "c'mon mama, cut it out" as a smile inevitably blossoms on his face

❀ alongside this, he also has a weird kink thing for calling himself papa

❀ either “thatsss it sweetheart, come to papa” or “let papa bear handle it, ‘kay? you just sit down there and look pretty f’me.”

❀ you have absolutely no idea where he got it from because jason swears up and down that he's never done it until he got in a relationship with you

⁎⁺˳ 𝓉𝒾𝓂 ミ

❀ while tim is such a sweetheart, so his pet names for you would most definitely reflect that

❀ sweets, pretty, baby love, cutie; simple stuff like that

❀ also, let’s not forget that this boy is a certified LEWSER, so that also shows within you guys’ relationship

❀ he sometimes calls you pookie (he’s chronically online…)

❀ he'd probably be up texting you at 2am (because why wouldn’t be be up at that time) and is like “hey pooks u wanna check out this new italian place i found? i saw that they serve a few of ur faves”

❀ he also has a nasty habit of referring to you as dude or bro

❀ you'll often get random tiktoks from him throughout the day like "bro look this is totally us" or "me & u fr🥹"

❀ sure it's corny but the sentiment is sweet so you don't really mind

❀ a lot of people think the relationship you both have may be a bit odd, but neither of you care (and that's all that matters <3)

[elliewill]

takin' what's not yours.

ALMOST LOVERS. so close, but not quite. ellie sends you a note that might rekindle what you nearly had.

word count: 4.9k warnings: nsfw mdni, infidelity, secretive behavior, pussy-eating, strapon r!receiving, messy tribbing, vague description of squirting tags: ex-bestfriends with benefits. long term homoerotic secret-third-thing. forbidden. a playful fuck born of yearning.

ELLIE HAD BEEN looking down at her third mixed drink when her stomach lurched at the thought of having to finish it. She never liked vodka. She wasn’t sure why she even chose it to begin with.

“I missed you,” Ellie said, setting her drink down on her coffee table, fiddling with the coaster her drink sat on. 

It was a childish thing to say. Childish, naïve, maybe even teetering on reckless. Ellie couldn’t help herself; it was nothing she hadn’t said before, although circumstances now would imply heavier consequences. 

You returned to an acquaintance of Ellie’s. A quiet awareness of each other, clearing paths to avoid regrettable collision. You repelled each other’s pull to orbit with nothing but sheer will and an intense fear of embarrassment.

An acquaintance, sure. But what did that mean when you’ve known the exact way in which the lines of Ellie’s neck join her collarbones, her shoulders? When Ellie had etched in her mind the way your silhouette takes its shape against the natural light while you’re sound asleep, nothing but a beautifully sun-drenched figure? 

It didn’t mean much at all, apparently. Her sheets have always held your scent — but it’d been six months too long since you’d been in her sheets anyway. Although that side of the bed wasn’t yours. And never had been. In fact, it was someone else’s now.

Still, you were no stranger. But Ellie had been bolder. And she’d been responsible for far more reckless things. 

So have you.

C’mon. Say it.

“I… missed you too.” 

The words ran from your mouth in a long breath; you were unsure whether the confession was intentional or by accident, but the words hung in the air now. She heard it. And you wrung your hands a bit, trying your best to bluff, still uncertain of what game she sought to play. 

She wouldn’t let you catch her eyes, and whether that choice of hers was sheepish or cocky, you couldn’t tell.

It would be too brave of you, too bold, to express what you’d really thought. Right? Wasn’t it? 

A swirling nostalgia settled in your stomach, and you played with the idea of drinking its temptation in full. Among the inside jokes stashed in between the couch cushions you sat on, you could probably still find one or two popcorn kernels lodged in there, too.

Could you maybe eat like a normal person? The movie’s not that scary, El.

Ha. Pshhh, I’m not scared. I’m just saving those for later. Obviously.

This was just a friendly, strictly-platonic get-together for two, just as you had done so many times before. You and your best friend had always been tightly knit – sewn, if you were being honest – until seams all but unraveled just a few months ago. You both found new ways to occupy your time, new hands to hold, new lips to kiss. More time to make for someone else.

And yet, that corny envelope and handwritten note still somehow slipped underneath your door earlier that day. Come over for some drinks? If you want. Definitely don’t have to if you don’t want to. Dina’s at Jesse’s for the night, if that means anything.

If that means anything.

“It’s okay that you’re with her, by the way." 

Attempting to save both you and herself from the silence, Ellie’s heart had spoken through gritted teeth, although her lips made sure the words rang polite. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips when she realized she wouldn’t have to hear you backtrack.

She peeled the coaster out from beneath her drink and leaned over to grab your third drink, watching the condensation pool beneath the empty glass of ice. You swallowed the words as hard as you tried to untangle them. And the thought of Dina caught and hung itself like an anchor in your stomach. 

Dina was good for Ellie. And to save face, you’ve mustered the courage to say that your new lover was good for you, too. No matter the words exchanged in quiet – those were lovers’ quarrels and you always made up. The nights spent alone meant nothing, that was just how she coped. And forget the comments, they were funny! Even you laughed. Right? This was good. Why wouldn’t it be okay? Of course, it was okay. You and Ellie had only ever been friends. Or something like that.

“Whew!” You sarcastically pretended to wipe away sweat above your brow. After pressing your lips together in an attempt to conceal a smirk, you continued, “Fuck, I’m so relieved I have the Ellie stamp-of-approval. God, what would I have done without it?”

“Oh, shut up," Ellie laughed and rolled her hazel-green eyes at you, lips parting to reveal a crooked smile. Just a playful nudge at your arm with her freckled nose all wrinkled, and a flame ripped across your chest and crept toward your neck. "I was just being nice."

You broke the ice – the way you wanted it to be broken. Lighthearted, good-natured, casual. Maybe there was a twinge of something else – and of course there was, there’d always been something else  –  something sweet and tender and so poorly developed and fragile that maybe it was best that it never touched the surface. Although, maybe now, buzzed and lacking inhibition, it didn’t seem so bad to let it breathe.

“Okay, and? So was I.” You nudged her back, the nostalgia feeling bittersweet and overdue. “I can still kick your ass, y’know.”

“You wanna bet?” Ellie’s eyebrows perked up at you as she jokingly raised her fists, cartoonishly winding up a punch. Frequently, you used to find yourself at the receiving end of Ellie’s goofy shadowboxing. Few others have had the privilege of being her victim. “Put ‘em up.”

“Careful, nerd. Might hurt yourself,” you replied, feigning a lack of amusement. 

You slapped her lazy fist downward and something reeled inside Ellie’s gut. A knot formed in her stomach, being reminded of how long it’s been since you’ve touched her hands. But the inner corners of her mouth creased into a bashful smile anyway. She had finally let you catch her eyes. And for a moment, you forgot the circumstances. It seemed as though Ellie did, too.

“Do you ever miss this?”

Ellie’s gaze lingered. Maybe just a bit too long. Heat tore across your ears, and you tried your best to ignore the burn.

  “Miss what? Being challenged to kick your ass?” you defused. This was supposed to be lighthearted, casual… harmless. It was harmless. 

“Ha-haaa. Very funny.” You caught an eye-roll from the Savage Starlight card collector. “Y’know what I meant.”

“Being friends?”

“I mean, yeah, sure. Something like that,” Ellie uttered, unsure but settling for what left her lips. She shrugged, shy eyes downcast toward her fingers.

“I do miss it, yeah,” you admitted. Ellie struggled to contain her buzz at your confession. You returned a shrug, swallowing the urge to place blame. It had never been anyone’s fault. You had simply grown apart – friends do that sometimes, don’t they? 

“Don’t know why it’s been so long. Just… busy I guess,” Ellie muttered, almost embarrassedly. She was the one who stopped calling, she’s sure. Patrols were just…coincidentally reassigned, too. To make things less awkward between you both, obviously.

And busy had a name. You didn’t feel like your Busy was worth mentioning. But for Ellie, it was always Dina. 

Her name hung in your mouth and Ellie's eyes softened, a quiet understanding passing between the two of you.

“So…” you sighed, debating on continuing. “How are things with Dina?”

“It’s been… really great. She’s great.” Ellie compulsively finished the rest of her drink to avoid elaborating further. It had been proving difficult trying to remind herself that when it’s good, it’s great with Dina – and that it was something worth waiting it out for. And mind often wandered so far as to ask whether it had to be this way at all.

Relationships don’t always need sex for it to survive, right? What are the odds of sex life flatlining shortly after making it official? Was it just her libido? Perhaps lesbian bed-death, or something. People grow out of it, the freezing-out thaws, and all that, she guessed. But the guilt in Ellie’s chest burned up the words that never left her mouth. She hoped that with each breath thereafter, smoke wouldn’t curl out from between her lips.

“But… she doesn’t find your corny puns funny either?”

“Well, I know it breaks your heart, but she does, in fact, find my puns funny,” Ellie lectured in between laughter, with arms crossed and her warm buzz to blame for the half-lidded gaze.

“She’s still in the honeymoon phase, huh?” The sarcasm threaded your motion, slowly nodding at Ellie, hoping to win another laugh from her.

“I dunno. It’s just not the same y’know?” 

You tensed. You brought your hands down to your lap when you began biting the inside of your cheek. Of course you knew.

“It’s not the same as what?” 

You attempted to jump ship anyway. Lest you reveal something you didn’t want Ellie to know.

“Like how we used to be.”

“As friends?” 

Or something like that, right?

“I mean, friends don’t really kiss friends.”

Right.

The urge to bristle at the comment was hard to fight. You weren’t the one to have kissed her first; she started it back then. But the guilt slithered into your gut and gnawed at you, knowing that you always wished you had kissed her first, anyway.

“Sometimes they do. And maybe it’s that simple,” you said a little too defensively, knowing how Dina and Ellie got together. You didn’t mean for it to come out so brash, but you blamed it on the alcohol crippling your self-awareness and its accompanying filter.

“I mean – c’mon – don’t you wanna talk about it?” Ellie quibbled. “Or would you rather keep pretending that nothing ever happened?”

“Nothing did happen, Ellie.”

You prayed that the next words out of Ellie’s mouth wouldn’t be “Friends don’t fuck friends, either.” Because if they had been, you’d have to spend the next few minutes waiting for the hungry ache between your legs to subside; you know that your nameless Busy could never fuck you the way Ellie did.

“We both know that’s not true,” Ellie teased and leaned in toward you, holding back a scoff. You would’ve called it a laugh if you had been sober.

“Hooking up never meant anything, El. We were just friends, and you’re with Dina now. Don’t fuck this up for yourself,” you chided.

There was still time to leave. To walk away from whatever hot, tempting mess was awaiting you on Ellie’s couch. It was an old dance, a familiar one, whose steps had been memorized by your soles. 

It started with something harmless. Innocent touches. Friendly ones. Then, a peck. Something like kisses littered along a collarbone. Until, eventually, legs were hoisted over shoulders, faces buried in between thighs and hands with a mean grip on hair. 

It was inconsequential fun back then. It was forbidden now. And for some reason, the thought of getting fucked into a bed by Ellie, who didn’t belong to you, made your cunt slick.

“Did you know why I kissed you back then?” Ellie’s voice was soft, quiet. But there was a challenge there. Her words dripped with a dare.

“Cause you had a big, fat crush?” You leaned in the way she did, taunting her with a drunken smirk. Your faces were only inches from each other’s now, the vodka on her breath strong and the mutual desperation stronger.

“What if I said that I still do?” 

Ellie’s eyes flicked between your lips and your eyes, clearly distracted by a twinge between her thighs. When was the last time your mouths have been so close? She swore that her fingertips could recall the hills and valleys of your figure. Maybe she could try tracing them along your skin again, just to test herself. Just to say she could. C’mon. Maybe.

“I would say that you’re drunk. And fucking insane,” you quipped, unable to help the laugh that escaped your lips – low and breathless. 

“Nothing else?” 

Every time she spoke, all the clear, hard lines that kept you two apart suddenly looked softer, blurrier – like someone had been rubbing out the edges. They looked wobbly, jagged, faded, as if someone drew them with a hand that couldn’t quite steady itself. Everything felt a little more fluid, a little more bendable, a little less… consequential.

God, the stakes were high and the rewards even better. One wrong breath and you could win her or lose her. You were always good at bluffing but had a bad habit of throwing out your cards. What then? What’s next? Fold, right? It’s always been a fold, baby. You never wanted the pot that bad anyway, did you?

“And that you’re a nerd.” “Oucchhhh.” 

Ellie feigned anguish with a cocky smile, whilst pretending to drive a dagger through her heart. 

Your conscience held itself in silence as soon as you watched her eyebrows pinch at the center. It’s almost exactly the way you remembered. When she’d look down at you, face between her legs. When you used to glide your tongue through her folds, making slow, soft circles around her clit.

There had suddenly been just too much fucking saliva in your mouth while looking at her like that. You began to believe that the spit in your mouth could be used for far more useful things than moistening your mouth. Both of you exchanged a fleeting look. A knowing one. A thirsty one.

You slowly leaned in to kiss her gently, pulling away to scan her face for any sign of regret, resentment – or satisfaction.

She didn’t wear surprise on her features. Her eyes had darkened, something hypnotic and fucking carnal behind pupils blown. The small victory set your body alight. And a discreet, sin-free, mouth-watering desire had been fulfilled. It was a peck. Just to test the waters. An innocent thing. 

The tug just below Ellie’s happy-trail disagreed. 

You both moved to brazenly close the distance, rushing to get up and get your hands on each other – to clumsily and carelessly make your way toward the bed that you missed so much. Your hands held the side of her face as her lips continued to crash into yours. She brought a hand to the side of your neck, a thumb grazing your cheek, the exact way she used to make you melt. It was sweet, it was missed, it was never supposed to be innocent. It was born of desperation. 

And it was fucking sloppy.

Miraculously, you two had found the bed – which, to be honest, is no miracle since this felt like ritual – and she pinned you down onto it. You slid up further into the sheets, your body buzzing at the way Ellie groped you. You clawed at her shirt, pathetically pulling her closer. A soft whine crept from your throat when her lips left yours, a string of saliva stretching between your mouths. Gravity broke the string; the warm spit dribbled down your chin.

You laid there, looking up at Ellie, whose hands have already undone a bra, while she feasted her eyes upon your neck like it was her next meal. Ellie had always been one to admire you, but there simply was no time to fuckin’ waste. 

Her right hand found your neck, nimble fingers closing around your throat and squeezing a breathy yelp from you. Her left hand found a handful of your soft tits, her palm skimming over your hard nipples and fighting the urge to grab any harder than she was. But before she could decide to rough you up any further, her lips and tongue met the skin on your neck, leaving a trail of painful and wet kisses.

It was so quick, born of something so pent-up, secret, uncontrollable. You loved that she didn’t give you a moment to think. The moans that involuntarily escaped your lips were half-formed, broken, breathy. Your thoughts weren’t that much different.

“Shit,” you managed to croak out, realizing that she had been leaving love bites. “C’mon, El. I don’t… don’t have a way to fuckin’ cover them.”

“Good,” Ellie huffed between half-kisses, before decisively bringing her teeth down hard on your neck, purposely ignorant to your wishes. A sharp inhale through your teeth settled into a helpless moan in your mouth. “Means I get to keep you. Right, baby?”

Baby. She called you baby. Something in your chest tightened, like heartstrings suddenly tangled. You’d question whether she meant that if you were sober. But the buzzing in your body from the gin denied the need for proof. Your proof was right there. Ellie’s tongue on your neck softened anxiety’s edges for you and your nerves remained partially blunted to the panic of being called her baby. 

“Mhm,” you sighed, nodding a bit sporadically, clearly melting. You searched for her hands with yours and dragged them down toward that deliciously painful ache in your pussy. “Fuck, please touch me, El, please.”

Ellie’s fingers dug into the hems of your shirt and her hands scrambled to pull it up and over your head. She brought her soft, pink lips to your chest, leaving kisses, sneaking bites and trailing her tongue down to your hard nipples. Ellie drew a plea from your lips, and she was about to do it again. All while her hands had worked themselves to the button and zipper of your jeans. And once she got those down – her own.

Your eyes lavished the sight of Ellie’s pretty thighs. Pretty, soft, flecked with freckles. The perfect place to put your head between. Goosebumps had strewn themselves across your skin. And your pretty friend’s warm hand over your cunt didn’t help.

“So you must’ve really missed me, huh,” she teased, running a finger over an obnoxiously wet spot of your underwear. You flushed at the soft brush of her finger, your blood red-hot underneath your skin. Afraid that she’d draw away her hand to tease you further, you gripped her forearm and pressed it against the heat between your legs. Your eyes locked.

“Gotta check to make sure, right?” You tilted your hips toward her, your words edging on a dare. And you had always known Ellie to be far too stubborn to turn one down. 

In silent agreement, her left hand peels your panties toward the side, her right middle and ring finger slipping easily into your dripping cunt and thumb gently landing on your throbbing clit. 

“Sh-Shit,” you moaned, licking your lips shortly after. With eyelids low, you reached for your tits, as if something feral stirred in your gut at the feeling of being filled by Ellie’s fingers. You fervently imagined what her tongue would feel like filling up your pussy; it had been too long ago to recall.

Your eyes followed her movement in hungry anticipation. She lowered her face to your middle, fingers sliding out to spread the lips of your cunt. What a fuckin’ tease.

She ran her tongue through your folds, eager to earn another pretty sound from you. And she did. Bottom to top, the tip of her tongue caught and spread the slick over your clit, and you couldn’t help but groan in greed. More. You wanted more. 

Ellie delivered — with a warm, wet tongue that slid into your pussy. 

“Goddd, fuck, El. Feels so, f-fuckin’ — good,” you whimpered pathetically. “S-so fuckin’ deep in my cunt.”  Like second nature, your fingers clawed for a grip on Ellie’s rusty brown hair.

“So — fuckin’… pretty, baby,” she moaned into you, between tongue-deep licks of your pussy. The sound of Ellie’s tongue messily lapping against and into your gushing cunt made a slippery mess out of her own underwear. But she didn’t need to tell you that for you to know.

Her fingers found themselves in your messy pussy again, her tongue at your clit, making steady swirls, occasionally closing her lips around your bud to gently suck. Like clockwork, a familiar hunger gently tore at you from your core.

“Shit, yessss, baby. Mhm, like that. Like thatttt. Gimme, El, p-please. I’m —” 

Just like that, Ellie had to do the opposite of what you so desperately begged for. Her tongue abandoned your clit, and her fingers left your pussy, sticky, beaded strings of slick adorning the space between them. An exasperated whimper left with an exhale. Ellie sat back onto her heels, self-satisfied smirk on her face.

“Sorry — were you not done?”

“Fuckin’ Christ, El. You’re so annoying.”

She watched you compose yourself from the brink of the delicious chase of your orgasm, pulling something out from inside a bin from underneath the bed. Something she hadn’t used since she had seen you last. 

She calmly wrestled it on, made sure it was secure. And you ignored the blatant watering of your mouth.

“Aww, c’mon.” She screwed up her chin into a sarcastic pout. Her features sat gentle on her face, but her movements were a bit rough. Her hands pulled your legs to the right, leaving you on your side. Without giving you time to react, she rolled you onto your front, and pulled your ass up by your hips. You comfortably laid there, on your knees. “You love it.”

Her hazel eyes drank you up, admired your ass, and locked on the pretty, glistening wet lips between your legs.

“What are yo—”, you started, unable to finish. Ellie’s fingers spread your pussy lips, the tip of the strap gliding just-barely in. “H-holy shhhit.” 

The sultry whine slipped from your mouth. And, poor you. You couldn’t help but arch your back. Stars swam in your eyes as her slips slowly rocked into you, the length of her strap filling your wet cunt. 

“Slipped in sooo easy, baby,” Ellie hummed, hypnotized by the view, the way your ass moved with every stroke. Her palms spread on your ass, fingers digging in, likely to leave light fingertip bruises afterward. Her strokes got quicker and harder, her strap running over that delicious sweet spot in your pussy.

“Ellie! Fuck! Goddd, fuck me plea— right there, rightthere, baby,” you groaned, barely coherent, face-deep into her pillow, hands clawing at the sheets that smelled so much like her.

A series of whimpers had been leaving Ellie’s lips as she fucked you, the base of the strap rubbing comfortably — conveniently — against her clit. Something feral crawled up into Ellie’s abdomen with each stroke.

Unsatisfied with her grip on you, she reached over, laid a hand across your throat, forcing you to look up and stifling your moaning. 

“You make such — pretty fuckin’… noises for me — fuck,” Ellie said. Maybe sighed. Although, to you it felt like a pant.

You turned your head just a bit to catch a blurry sideways glimpse of Ellie. There was a cool glow that illuminated the side of her face, freckles clear and bright, eyes closed and chasing that familiar tug in your core as she fucked into you. It was probably the moonlight trickling in from behind Ellie’s closed curtains. 

And it was safe to say you fucking hated those curtains as they were.

Writhing under the pressure and friction of Ellie’s body behind yours, you secretly wished those curtains were never closed to prying eyes. You desperately wanted someone to look in. Someone to watch Ellie fuck you silly while you were wide-eyed, hypnotized, and hungry. The way she used to. Face down, ass up and fucked into a pillow. The way it was supposed to be.

And you’ve never looked more fucking gorgeous to her. 

“God fuck, so clo—”  Ellie’s breathy groans grew more intense, her sounds became all whiny, fussy, insatiable. You had her wrapped around your finger — and you’d be insane to make it all so easy for her. Her breathing quickened, catching itself on that warm knot in her stomach nearly unraveling. 

You pulled forward and away from Ellie. The strap slid out of your pussy, to both your dismay and delight. A smirk snuck its way onto your lips as you turned around, rolling onto your back — missionary.

Her freckled chest was heaving a hard, unsteady breath. A bewildered expression on her features bordered on defeat.

“The fuck was that?” She asked, chest and cheeks alight, flush and rosy. You daydreamed about leaving purplish love bites around her neck, like a collar. You had always been holding the leash, haven't you? 

This was your proof.

“I think that makes us even,” you answered, brandishing your self-satisfaction.

“Asshole,” Ellie exhaled with half a laugh, still catching her breath. Her hand tapped your thigh in a light smack — Ellie’s version of playful chastisement.

“Yeah?” you challenged, eyes flicking between the harness and the endearing lines forming at the corner of Ellie’s smirk.

You sat up, hands at the harness which sat around her hips and ass, managing to wrangle it off. Your eyes struggled to leave the pretty, sloppy mess she made underneath it.

Often you wondered if there was some secret language that only you two speak telepathically. Because she grabbed your legs, forcing you on your back again, and hoisting your right leg over her right shoulder — doing exactly as you desired. 

Ellie positioned herself so that her middle met your own, and when it did, the feeling of her warm, sticky cunt made the ache of your clit border on painful. The slightest movement made the most delicious and obnoxious sound of your desperately wet pussies up against each other. 

“So fuckin’ wet for me, baby,” Ellie huffed, watching the way your hands grasp at your own chest in lust. “Is that all for me, pretty girl?”

Strings of drool stretched between your cunts every time she pulled away and returned back to you, hips rocking like something carnally possessed. Your clits passed over each other, throbbing hard and sensitive from the pressure and slippery, effortless lack of friction between your gushing pussies.

“Mhm, yes, fuck… yes—,” your pathetic, lovedrunk mouth ran. “All fuckin’ yours.”

You admired the tiny beads of sweat on her,  like a mist that fell over Ellie’s neck and chest. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of glistening slick adorning both of your thighs. The air was a mess of both your whimpers, whines, nearly animalistic breathing.

“Uh-huh, just like that — All mine, baby,” Ellie groaned, leaning just a bit forward to grab one of your tits with her free hand. 

All hers. Sure, you were both drunk. But Ellie did nothing but confirm all of which you held to be true in secret. You’ve always belonged to each other – whether the world knew it or not.

“Keep going, please— yes… shitttt. El, plea— please fuck me,” you pleaded, eyeing Ellie’s tits bounce as she rubbed herself against you.

You clawed at each other; fingernails dug into Ellie’s forearm, and Ellie returned the favor with fingertips pressed hard into her grip on your thigh. The incessant and pathetic desire to get closer than you were plagued you both, as if you hadn’t been close enough. You could've shared skin – and surely even that wouldn't be enough. 

A mouthwatering daydream of watching Ellie’s eyebrows draw together exactly the way they did earlier, became reality. Lust burned circles around your clit and the deep tug behind your belly button served as a warning.

You could gather the same from Ellie, her eyes pinched closed, movements a bit more erratic, a bit more involuntary.

“Gonna make me cum with you, baby? Make me fucking cu—,” Ellie said, words sloppy and frantic, breathing ragged. “Shitshitshit, holy fuck, fuck!”

As warmth crept from Ellie’s cunt overs – you writhed underneath it. The thought of Ellie’s squirt drenching your pussy did nothing put you over the frenzied edge.

“Mhm, please, so fuckin’ close, El. Please, so close, I can’t fucki— shit! I’mcumming I’mcumming, fuckin’ god—” A tide rolled itself in your gut – you held your breath, just to feel it a bit longer, the euphoric tension and release. Heat ripped from your cunt to your chest, pussy clenching, clit throbbing, Ellie unrelenting. The relief in your clit grew sharp, a bit painful, overwhelming. Your hand rose to her abdomen, preventing her from rocking against you further. “Jesus christ.”

Ellie’s half-lidded gaze favored the way you squirmed under her; you were just so effortlessly beautiful, at the brink of cumming, at the sleepy aftermath – even with sweat beaded upon your brow from the desperate chase.

She adjusted her legs, fixed in order to collapse next you, although close enough to nearly be on top of you. You tangled legs with hers, finding soft, cool spots on her skin to rest on. Ellie lays half-way on her side, one arm folder and underneath a pillow and the other tracing the outline of your jaw. You both take a moment to catch your breaths.

“But friends don’t fuck friends right?” Ellie quipped sarcastically, waiting for a laugh from you.

“Oh, shut up, El,” you replied, a bit of a spirited defeat in your voice. Fighting the sleepiness, the exhaustion, the self-satisfaction –  you relented, wanting to enjoy the moment as it was. For now, she was yours and you were hers. You shared a bed. The sheets smelled of you. She called you her baby. 

“Let’s just…worry about that shit tomorrow.”