#bless all of u i am so lucky

[suffarustuffaru]

friendly reminder that reinhard is approximately the same age as his parents when they had him

[britneyshakespeare]

I love my sister more than anything in the world

[skelhell]

god if I see one more person whining about a show getting cancelled lmao it happens. This is inevitable. Yes it sucks, I'm sure it does, but oh my fucking god. There are more important things happening. Y'all are acting like this is the worst fucking thing to ever happen to you ever. Respectfully, grow the fuck up and look around. 😩

[monzabee]

short n' sweet (social media au) - op81

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where in an attempt to figure out who Y/N is dating, the internet come up with theories only to realise she is dating none other than Oscar Piastri and chaos ensues.

Pairing: oscar piastri x pop star!reader (model used: sabrina carpenter) (and domingooo)

Warnings: cursing (i think), sabrina carpenter is horny but it's okay we ride with it, feat the internet being the internet, i have a big fat crush on mercello hernandez so you have been warned

Auhtor note: came all this way, had to explain, direct from @percervall; mar this one is for you, i haven't had this much fun in a long time so thank you for indulging my brainrot and excitement😭🫶

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

yourusername

Liked by elleusa, taylorswift, gracieabrams and 3,255,376 others

yourusername: toto, i have a feeling we're not in kansas anymore. short'n sweet cumming to a city near you! first stop: columbus, ohio

user: bro just give me ONE chance

user: SHE'S GORGEOUS ❤️❤️❤️❤️

user: te amo diva

user: don't know if i wanna be with her or i wanna be her

view all 5,594 comments.

user: see you tomorrow pookie

user: cant wait to see u 🫶🏼✨🤍

user: she’s the sweetest & shortest 💋

user: it’s Y/N's world and we’re just living in it😭🤍🤍💋💋💋

user: is he talking about TOTO FUCKING WOLFF??

user: why is f1 everywhere, no she isn't😭

tiktokuser1

caption: bed chem from opening night!!

user: that mic is ON! ✨

user: I LOVE THIS DIVA!!

user: watching this isn’t enough, I have to be there

user: I need that bed.. NEOWWW

user: SHE BETTER BRING THE DAMN TOUR TO AUSTRALIA CAUSE THE FOMO IS CRAZY

user: oh i think she'll be bringing the tour to australia alright

user: what does that mean??

user: what do you know!!

tiktokuser2

caption: YO I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING BUT SHORT N' SWEET TOUR IS THAT GIRL!!

user: 'have you ever tried this one?' ugh her mind😭

user: IS THIS THE NEW NONESENSE OUTRO FOR THIS TOUR I NEED TO KNOW

user: i can't take my eyes off this, i've been staring at it for the past five minutes!

user: okay diva we see you👀

yourusername

Liked by madisonbeer, oscarpiastri, haileybieber and 4,182,928 others

yourusername: hello l.a., are you ready to wrap it up?

user: OSCAR JACK PIASTRI WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

user: okay who is he and why is he lurking in my diva's likes?

user: MY QUEEN (me typing this while listening to espresso 👀)

user: just a girl living life and making everyone fall in love with her

user: i’m 26 and AFRAID of Y/N Y/LN

view all 7,011 comments.

user: the caption and the last pic with the kittens the vibes don't match i love you😭

yourusername: stoppp, i diee

user: how is this tour like halfway over ????? second leg of tour maybe???? 😭

tiktokuser3

caption: have you ever tried this one?

user: i don't know how she keeps coming up with these

user: imagine having this much freak, i wouldn't be able to leave my house

user: am i the only one who is excited for the last three shows in la??

user: her boyfriend is one lucky guy that's for sure

user: she has a boyfriend??

user: girl who do you think the guy in the white jacket and the thick accent is?

tiktokuser4

caption: omg guys😭😭 domingo is here😭😭

user: CAME ALLL THIS WAAY HAD TO EXPLAAAIN

user: deerect from domingoo

user: okay hear me out... mercello and Y/N??

user: noooo, this crossover is actually too insane i can't handle it

user: look at how he's looking at her bro's down bad😭

tiktokuser5

caption: WE'VE LOST HER TO DOMINGO GUYS

user: somebody call kyle and tell him the good news😭

user: who's kyle?

user: omg do you live under a rock or something?

user: am i the only one who thinks they are not dating?

yourusername

Liked by tiktok, oscarpiastri, marcellohdz and 3,669,817 others

yourusername: LA night 2 ♥️💋 second locationnnn maybe he’s biiii!!! see you tonight for our last show of the US leg :’) how the hell

user: God bless your Dad’s genetics, Domingo

user: OMG DOMINGOOO… “NOW SHES WITH A HOT GUY BUT HE LOOKS GAY, HEARD HIS NAMES DOMINGO”

user: DOMINGO IS CHEATING ON KELSEY

user: no hate to domingo, but oscar jack piastri liked this post under 1 minute😭😭

user: i think we've established that she is probably dating marcello, please stop with the delulu

user: Y/N IM HERE👹

view all 5,179 comments.

user: marcelo hernandez had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever… and he did

user: the budget for this tour is insane… feels like a literal broadway production

user: came all this way, let her explain deeerect from LA

yourusername

Liked by oscarpiastri, madisonbeer, marcellohdz and 4,928,234 others

yourusername: date night but make it our way tagged: oscarpiastri

user: i'm sorrryyyy, but the dress is giving andie andersonn

yourusername: princess sophia is having some fun tonightt

user: this is still the most mind boggling couple ever BUT YOU LOOK GOOD THO

user: i'm so normal about this, i am sooooo normal about this

user: it's giving ross from friends and i am here for it

user: the best hard launch in the history of hard launches

oscarpiastri: great show, even better after party

yourusername: why did i know you were going to comment this

oscarpiastri: i'm literally sitting right next to you and you saw me type it

user: unhinged gf x calm bf duo is superior and this is the biggest proof ever

view all 6,728 comments.

marcellohdz: but what about domingo...

yourusername: i'm sorry domingo...

user: but is mark webber still alive, MARK ARE YOU THERE

oscarpiastri

Liked by yourusername, landonorris, mclaren and 928,256 others

oscarpiastri: came all this way, had to explain... tagged: yourusername

yourusername: 100% recommend, 5-star service

oscarpiastri: 😐

yourusername: 🥰

user: mister oscar jack piastri god bless your dad's genetics indeed

user: world class driving, world class relationship reveal

landonorris: okay but do we get free concert tickets ooor?

oscarpiastri: 😐

yourusername: of course!

user: this is actually so cute i'm going to throw up

view all 3,156 comments.

user: have you ever tried this one just took a whole other meaning

user: wait, are we going to see them together in las vegas??

user: the hard launching is insaneee

[midnightwriter21]

jjk hcs: the jjk boys as boyfriends

characters: yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu

warnings: none (i think?)

AN: if there’s anymore boyfriend hcs that you’d like to see lmk!! read gojo & nanami as boyfriends HERE

YUJI ITADORI

oh girl i am JEALOUS

he can be a little air headed at times but he’s the sweetest bf ever

i say he’s air headed but he’s actually very attentive

you get half an inch trimmed off your hair?

he notices immediately

“babe your hair looks great!”

notices everything about you actually

from your favorite color

to the brand of PENS you prefer to use

who tf notices the brand of pens people use?!?

yuji does

yk the tiktoks of boys picking entire BUSHES of flowers for their girlfriends

that’s him.

he straight up rips a whole bush out of the ground from the front of jujutsu high to give to you

principal yaga was not amused

gojo was tho

HE PRINTS OUT YOUR INSTAGRAM PICTURES TO REPLACE THE POSTERS OF MODELS ON HIS WALL

he’s so proud that your his girl fr

oh and he’s gotta hella pet names for you too

they’re all super basic

babe, sweetheart, cutie, etc.

he flirts w u like y’all aren’t together

awful pickup lines and everything

“do you have a mirror in ur pants? cause i can see myself in them.”

if u don’t think he’s the cutest then u can go argue with the wall bye

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

he has me in a chokehold

anyways

at the beginning of y’all’s relationship he’s awkward as fuck

but he eases up pretty quickly

veryyyyyy private with y’all’s relationship

if you somehow get him to hold your hand in public let alone give you a kiss?!?

girl count ur blessings fr

and it’s not bc he’s embarrassed of your relationship or anything no ma’am

it’s bc he would NEVER hear the end of it from gojo, nobara, and yuji

valid excuse

but when you two are alone?

oh girl it’s like he’s glued to you

when i say clingy? i mean it

also

king of nap time!!

he’s kidnapping u, bring you to his dorm room, dropping u on the bed, and laying completely on top of you

swear it’s his solution to everything

ur tired? it’s nap time

sad abt something? it’s nap time

a curse beat ur ass? it’s nap time

gojo is being annoying? it’s nap time

nap time cures everything ong

he’s not too crazy w the pet names

in private he’ll call you babe

in public you’re lucky if he adds a -chan to ur name lol

he’s so pretty boy

also can we appreciate his gorgeous luscious eyelashes?

no? okay

YUTA OKKOTSU

i would give my first born to make him feel happy, safe, and loved

KING OF MY HEART

he’s so baby

he’s the type of bf that no matter how long y’all have been dating he still gets flustered over you

y’all been together for an hour? he’s blushing when you give him a kiss on the cheek

y’all been together for a week? he’s blushing when you give him a kiss on the cheek

y’all been together for a year? he’s BLUSHING WHEN YOU GIVE HIM A KISS ON THE CHEEK

HE. IS. BLUSHING.

which is so incredibly endearing and innocent

but don’t get me wrong

mess with this man too much?

oh he’ll snap

he has the patience of a saint. but when it runs out?

oh ur in for it miss gurl

period.

teasing him a lil too much tryna make him flustered

when he finally snaps he is switching that dynamic up real quick

now he’s the one smirking and feeling all smug while you’re the one with the bright red face

ahem…

anyways

yuta’s love for you is very intense

now don’t start thinking HE is intense cause no

i mean yuta loves you so much that he might just crawl up inside ur body and live there

that type of intense

you occupy his mind 99.9% of the time

he’s on a mission and has time to stroll through the mall

“oh y/n would like that” aND HE’S BUYING IT

he’s chit chatting with inumaki and panda

best believe he finds a way to bring you up in conversation

“oh! that reminds me y/n said something the other day about…”

he is the softest ever when it comes to pet names

sweetheart, my love, princess, etc.

i’m so soft for him he deserve the world

[emmyrosee]

So Urm just a thought u got any…. Deep non curse sukuna angst I think it’s a good day to cry.

-anon🥢

Sukuna is nothing if not self sabotaging.

Things with you have been good. Borderline perfect; you’re the missing piece to the life he’s cursed to live, where he’s always self aware of his weaknesses and takes them out on those around him. There is no blessing, not when all he does it hurt. It’s a miracle yuuji and choso deal with his shit enough, he knows they should’ve dropped him off the face of the earth with the pain he causes.

Now, it seems, it’s your turn.

Your turn to be on the receiving end of his fury, his rage and heartbreak, your only chance to escape being to leave him; maybe that’s all he wants: you to leave him.

He stopped calling you. Stopped answering texts. When his brothers and parents ask about you, he merely stays silent, opting against making you sound more divine than they know you are.

You’re perfect. You’re not for him.

Theres a pounding on the door that goes unanswered by everyone in the house, and he groans as he gets up to answer it, only to reveal your frame in the door.

You look distraught. You’re angry, he can see that in your eyes, there’s a betrayal buried deep in them. Your face holds a scowl and your breathing picks up at the sight of him.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes and walks away from the open door, knowing you’ll follow him no matter what. “So?”

“So?” You ask, offended. “You and I are supposed to be in love, supposed to be partners in crime-“

“Im hearing a lot of ‘supposed to be,’ and not a lot of ‘have to be’” he snaps. He hears you take a breath to say something, but you don’t. He screws his eyes shut. “Get over it. I didn’t sign a contract with my blood saying I have to come to your every beck and call.”

“Sukuna. Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Being an asshole,” you say firmly. “Let me in. I’m here. What’s going on?”

“I’m sick of you.”

At his blunt words, you gasp, and sukuna feels the bile rise up his throat. He’ll do anything though. Anything to make you stop loving him. “What…?”

“I’m sick. Of you,” he echos. “You checking up on me, demanding we go out, flaunting me off to your friends like I’m some damn trophy-“

“Because I love you!” You hiss. “I want to show you off, make the world see how lucky I am to have you!”

“‘Show me off?’” He cackles, spinning on his heel to face you. “There’s nothing to show. I am nothing to you. You, are nothing to me.”

You reel back at his words, waterline swelling with tears as you are wounded by his words. “You think because I take you out on a few dates, we kissed a little and I held that little hand of yours, that you’re anything special to me?” He shakes his head with a cruel chuckle, “I’ve done that to every broad I’ve ever been with. You’re not special. Never were anything more than a body to me.”

You puff out your chest like an animal trying to protect itself, “then what about the nights we cuddled?” You demand. “What about our late night trips to McDonald’s or 7/11? What about the nights you cried in my chest about your miseries and hardships, and I carded your hair and cradled you close to my body?”

“What about them!” He yells, the cracks in his confidents breaking. Those moments mean the world to him, and for him to now force you to use them against him has his blood running cold. “Yeah, I let you see the softer bits of me. Who cares?”

“I do!” You wail. “Because it made me think, for one second, that we could be something special! Something we earned and worked for together!”

“I think you forget,” he snarls, “I lived a fine life without you in it. We can go right fucking back the minute you started thinking this bullshit.”

You flinch at the harshness of his words. It’s working. Sukuna feels it. The love you have for him dwindling, the connection being frayed and severed with every pass of his words-

“Then do it,” you whisper. “If your life was so great loveless, then go back. But just know, I’ll never stop loving you. Ever. You’ll never have the peace of the freedom of heartbreak when it comes to me.”

With that, you take a step back, followed by another, but your eyes never leave his. Your bottom lip wobbles and you grab your coat over the back of his chair. He watches as you cover your mouth with your hand before dashing out, slamming the door behind you and leaving a trail of tears. His eyes are fixed on the door that’s finally stopped shaking on its hinges from the slam, as if waiting for you to sweep back in and demand his love, demand him to care and want you back.

But it doesn’t come. You don’t come back.

He can’t fight the urge to swipe everything off the counter with his arms in a fury, plates and cups flying off and shattering under the force. He pants like a voracious beast, angry and predatory, but he’s grounded as he steps on a shard of crystal from his mom’s wine glass.

And now, rather than chase you down the street, begging for your forgiveness, he sits down, using his hands to pick up the bigger shards. There’s an unfamiliar trickling down his cheek of hot tears, one splatters to the floor, and that’s it. Sukuna, with the monster he worked so hard to keep at bay, ruins another paradise in his life.

He cries alone.

All alone.

[troublesomesnitch]

The Novice

Aemond x Septa!Reader

The one-eyed prince makes a late night confession.

Contents: Book!Aemond. Pure filth, extremely dubious consent/non-con. Confessional dirty talk, coercion, power imbalance.

Words: 4200

Mostly book!Aemond, but with some show elements added to make him a real piece of shit.

CW: sexual assault!

Proof read, but I am not good at proof reading.

-

Twice a week, the grand sept receives fine visitors.

It is always something you look forward to, something special and exciting; hearing guards in the streets outside, and the swift feet of errand boys running to inform your superiors.

The queen will be arriving shortly. 

There is not much preparation that needs to be done, because you never tarry in your duties - there are always fresh matches laid out, candles ready to be lit, not a spec of dust on the altars. But for the queen, you go above and beyond. You fetch cushions for her dainty knees, you light incense in every corner, and you usher out any crowds that are not worthy of her presence. 

You greatly admire the queen. She is all that a lady should be, the very image of womanhood. Gracious, pious, beautifully but modestly dressed, and always kind and courteous to you. She says thank you, and blessed day, sweet Sister, and she asks about your training, your health and wellbeing, what charitable causes you wish to devote yourself to. 

The older septas say that the queen seems to have taken a liking to you, and that perhaps if you are lucky, she will request for you to join her household once you have taken your vows. To be a helper and companion to her daughter, and to teach the little prince and princess - her grandchildren, which is a strange thought, because the queen is so young and so beautiful to already be a grandmother. 

She is certainly much younger than her husband. The king is old and frail and rarely leaves his castle now, but even in his youth, he never came to the sept. At least that is what you are told. Septon Alester says he is an unworthy husband, and an unworthy ruler, too. A heretic, like all the rest of his Valyrian kin, who flout divine law and believe themselves above the gods. 

You would never dare to utter such a thing, but it seems at least partially true - in all the time you have served the sept, the king has never accompanied his queen to prayer. Not even once. She always comes alone, escorted by her guard and her maid. And sometimes by her son. 

The one-eyed prince. The one who rides the largest beast in the world. 

There are many rumours swirling about noble lords and ladies, but especially about him. In the taverns and winesinks people say he is of a sullen disposition, and that the loss of his eye at such a young age has left his face hideous and deformed - clearly they have never seen him, but you have, and you know it is nothing more than malicious slander. 

The prince is as beautiful as his mother. 

They look lovely when they kneel together by the altar, with their hands delicately folded and their heads respectfully bowed. Regal, godly. Like the Mother and the Warrior, you think. You often wonder about the contents of his prayers - what could a royal prince possibly wish for? Not as many things as a queen, it would seem, because he never kneels for as long, retreating after a minute or two to stand and wait for his mother. Watch over her; look at her with devotion and reverence. You cannot help but steal quick glances at him; at his graceful posture and his strong face, and you are always too slow to look away, so sometimes he catches you in it. Even when you stand on his blind side, he somehow knows to turn his head and meet your gaze. The little bow he gives you is courteous, but the taunting smile that follows is not, and you must always remind yourself that you have done nothing wrong. 

It is not a sin to be curious. 

—

When the evening bell tolls, and the city gates close, the High Septon calls to prayer. But one person must always stay behind to keep vigil until the morning, and the duty is shared between all servants of the Faith. Septons and septas, novices, even holy brothers and sisters, sometimes. Only the Most Devout are exempt from it, as well as those who are weakened by illness or old age.

You are neither, but you do not mind taking your turn. It is an easy task, as all of the city is asleep, and those who are not would much rather drink and carouse than come to a place of worship. Here, the night is quiet and calm, and you quite like these hours of solitude. Alone in the sept with only the statues, and maybe the gods, for company. 

On this day though, you are startled from your thoughts when the heavy doors are swung open. 

You have never before encountered guests at this hour, so your fearful imagination is quick to jump to conclusions - the man could be a thief, a common brute, a scoundrel hiding from a brawl, or - gods forbid - from the City Watch.

But when you peek out from your little corner, you are surprised to see that it is the prince. And that he is alone. 

He is dressed differently tonight, in dull colours and coarser fabrics, far simpler than what he usually wears. Perhaps in an attempt to go unnoticed among the common people - but if that was indeed his intention, he has very much failed. Everything about him is unusual, from his hair to his eye to the shining silver clasp at his neck; the immaculate tailoring of each of his garments. Even the way he carries himself makes it abundantly clear that this is no grocer or stonemason. 

You cast your eyes down as his steps echo through the sept, purposeful and determined.  Clearly heading towards you, but you would hate to be presumptuous, so it is only when he is right in front of you that you rise from your seat to curtsy. Reverently, so deep that your knee almost touches the floor. 

“Sister,” he nods. “I have sins I wish to confess - a troubled mind I wish to unburden.” 

You curtsy once more, though not as low this time.

“I am not ordained to hear confessions, but I should be happy to fetch a septon - “

“No,” the prince says. “I will speak to no one but you.” 

What he demands is a breach of the rules, and a cruel thing to ask of you, but there is not much to be done about it. You can hardly refuse a prince of the realm, and what if he tells his mother that you were unhelpful? After all, it is your sacred duty to comfort and guide the faithful. To lead them on the path to righteousness. 

So you nod, draping your veil over your head as you both sit down on your little bench. Right beside one another, so close that your legs almost touch. A proper septa would say confess, and may the Father judge you justly, but that is not appropriate for you, so you merely look down at your folded hands and wait for the prince to speak. 

“I am plagued by impure thoughts,” he begins. 

The colour drains from your face in an instant. Oh, not this. 

Anything else, you do believe you could handle. Envy, drunkenness, greed, gambling, even violent offences, perhaps. Anything but this. But you remain calm; force yourself to keep your composure as you speak. 

“All young men have impure thoughts. It is perfectly natural.”

From the corner of your eye, it looks as though the prince smiles ever so slightly. 

“Of course,” he nods. “But mine are by nature nefarious, because the lady I desire is a chaste and pious woman… a maiden, and justly proud of her innocence. She would be distraught if she knew the wickedness she inspires.”

You feel yourself blushing. Although you are sufficiently educated on the matter, speaking of such things makes you feel ashamed and uncomfortable. As it would most young women. Confession or not, nothing about this conversation is appropriate, and you want nothing more than to be done with it and return to quiet contemplation. You keep your eyes cast down, and you are as curt as you dare when you answer. 

“Then you should not sully her, My Prince, even in your thoughts. You should pray to the Smith for strength, or to the Warrior if you prefer, and occupy yourself with noble pursuits. Prayer, studies, and so forth.”

“Oh, but I do,” the prince says gravely. “I devote my every hour to noble pursuits. And yet time and time again I sully her, and my own hand too in the process -  yes, I must confess that I have sinned exceedingly, in both thought and deed. These urges of mine are so unbearable, I simply must relieve myself…” He pauses to look at you coolly, his brows drawn together in a disapproving frown. “You look quite pale, Septa, is my confession too scandalous for you? I should hope the Faith would not admit a novice so unfit for her position…”

“Of course not,” you quickly mutter, though in truth, you are mortified. This is far beyond your station and skill. Not only is the matter highly delicate, but you must also carefully choose your words so as to not offend a member of the royal family. And one with a - supposedly - unfortunate temper at that. 

“It is not for me to command a prince,” you begin, “but it is my duty to remind you that the Faith condemns such practices - surely you know that by indulging your urges, you will only make them stronger.”

“I have tried to refrain from it,” the prince laments. “But even then, she haunts me…  at night, I dream that I lie on top of her - that I spread her thighs and press her body to my own. And these dreams are so vivid, so terribly arousing, they often cause me to - forgive me, Sister - emit my seed.” He sighs deeply, and turns his face away, his shoulders tense; his handsome features full of torment. “A rather shameful predicament, for a grown man - is it not?” 

Perhaps, you think, but a common one nonetheless, and not something he should be chastised for. You know perfectly well that there are some functions of a man’s body that are beyond his control, as do the gods who made it so. It is best not to dwell on it. 

“My Prince,” you say instead, with what little confidence you can muster, “ - with your permission, I would offer you this advice: if you cannot restrain yourself, and if you care for this lady, then you should court and wed her.” You fiddle nervously with your dress, lowering your voice to barely more than a whisper. “It is a wholesome thing, for spouses to give their bodies to each other - for a man to make love to his wife…”  

The prince hums, either in agreement or contemplation, you can’t tell. But you hope he will take your words to heart, and make this irresistible woman his wife. If the mere sight of her can stir such passion, then he would surely grow to love her deeply, and their union would be happy and prosperous. Blessed by the gods.

- Or maybe not.

“I am afraid that is not possible,” the prince says. Slowly, thoughtfully. “Because you see, my lady is a septa - a novice, as it were…” 

His words trail off, and his hand reaches to caress your face, right by the edge of your veil, where a strand of hair has loosened from its pin. 

You recoil at once, springing from your seat to look at him with shock and horror. 

“This is highly improper - “

“I have thought of nothing but you,” he exclaims, impassioned, rising quickly to reach for you once more, “ - since the day I saw you, I have wanted no one else - ”

Again you manage to evade his embrace, but the prince is tall, and his legs are long and agile. Each one of his strides is worth two of yours, and when you back away he follows, stepping ever closer until you are backed up against a pillar.

Oh how you wish that it had only been a thief come to rob the sept. You could have easily escaped out the little hidden door by the dias; let them take whatever riches they could carry.  There is only silver here, and the Faith has no shortage of that.

The prince is after something far more precious. 

“Don’t touch me - ” you plead, feeling your pulse quicken, the hair rise on the back of your neck. He is too near, moving to loom over you, intimidating and imposing, and so tall that he must bend to brush his nose against your hair. 

“It is a waste,” he murmurs. “That such beauty should only belong to the gods.”

You should flee. You should defend your virtue. Maids and ladies, harlots and tavern girls, all women know to protect themselves, to kick where a man is the weakest, to scratch, bite, shout, make a racket. There are guards patrolling the square outside, and septons sleeping nearby in their cells - if you were loud enough, someone would hear you and come to your aid. 

But at what cost, when your assailant is a prince? 

You dare not risk it, so you stand frozen in place, too frightened to push him away, too frightened to even look at him as he gropes your body, touching it in ways that it has never been, and should never be touched. One of his arms wraps around your waist, the other trails over your dress, feeling your shape underneath the fabric. Your stomach, your hips, your bottom, and especially your breasts. 

He cups them with both hands, kneading and massaging them hard, pressing his fingers into your flesh.

“I would take you right here,” he breathes. “Against this very pillar, for all your gods to see - ” 

The blasphemy, the shameless vulgarity - you gasp, and at the sound, the prince chuckles faintly. 

“You said yourself it is a wholesome thing…”

“For husbands and wives -” you squeak, “please, you mustn’t hurt me!“

“Never,” he says, bringing your hand to rest on his chest, over his heart, as if to reassure you. “If you would only oblige me, I swear I will be gentle…”

You shake your head, but it does not dissuade him. He kisses your hair, your cheeks, the shell of your ear, touching his lips to every little sliver of exposed skin. Not just your face and neck, but your forearms too, your wrists, the insides of your elbows. Anywhere that lets him truly feel you. Feel the rapid beat of your pulse; the warmth and softness of a woman’s body.

And as he touches you, you feel him. His manhood, stiff against your hip when he presses himself against you, moaning softly at the feeling. It is a most intimate sound, and you are ashamed to realise that your body instinctively responds to it; to the closeness, the touch of a man. You feel warm in your chest, and wet between your legs - unnerving, and so at odds with the panic that still grips you, with the tears that prickle in your eyes. 

“Please don’t - ” you whimper, just as his teeth graze your jaw, drawing a single, involuntary sigh from your lips. One that spurs him on to swiftly yank the veil off your head and discard it, fully exposing your hair and neck. 

He pulls back to look at you, your neatly pinned tresses, your smooth throat and collarbones. Your beauty that he has long wished to admire. 

“Like an angel,” he says softly, longingly, taking your face in his hands and stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “A little angel - the Maiden in the flesh - “

“That is a blasphemous thing to say,” you sniffle. 

It only makes him laugh, and before you can say anything else, he tilts your face up so he can press his mouth to yours. 

No one has ever kissed you before. Many boys have wanted to, but none were ever allowed the privilege. You always knew you did not want to be a wife. That you had a different calling. 

It is a very strange sensation, this kiss. Hot, wet, and sticky. You do not return it, and yet the prince is undeterred, parting your lips softly but insistently, just enough to slip his tongue inside. It gives him pleasure, even when your mouth is slack and unresponsive - you can tell from his blissful sighs, and from the indecent way he moves his hips, rubbing the prominent bulge in his trousers against you. He is so entranced by your mouth and your body that you feel a treacherous sense of relief, thinking to yourself that if this is how he wants to gratify himself - by licking your tongue and humping against your hip - you will let him. No real harm has been done to your virtue, and the gods will understand you had no choice. Already you are silently saying your prayers, to the Warrior for courage, the Mother for compassion, the Father for leniency  -

But you are cruelly interrupted when the prince draws back and begins to loosen the closure of his breeches. 

“No - oh no, no - ,” you shriek, but as you try to wriggle from his grasp, his face hardens and his gentle touch becomes like a vice. Rough and unyielding, holding you in place. 

“You must forgive me,” he rasps, his gaze dark with lust, his nostrils flaring, “ - for I can no longer deprive myself of what I so desire...”

He is so much stronger than you. With an impeccably polished boot he shoves your feet apart, his one hand pinning your arms behind your back, the other hiking up your skirts, determined, deaf to your frantic pleas. 

“You don’t understand, I must remain chaste!”

“Don’t lie to me,” he hisses, “I know the workings of the Faith, you’ve taken no solemn vows yet - “

“No, I have, I have!” you cry. “I pledged myself to the Maiden when I was a girl!”

It is the truth, but the prince does not care. He silences you with another desperate kiss, crushing his face to yours, reaching to hook his hand under your knee and lift your leg. He has you trapped, pinned between his body and the stone column, and you can claw at him until your hands bleed, it makes no difference. Your dress is bunched up, your legs forcibly parted, your most intimate secrets laid bare to be violated. A great sin, made even greater by the circumstances, and yet the gods have abandoned you, left you here to suffer. 

They must be occupied elsewhere, and the statues too stand motionless on their plinths, with their tranquil faces, staring blankly into the distance as though deliberately blind to your tragedy. 

To the hand that worms its way underneath your smallclothes. The nails that dig into the back of your neck, holding your head in place. The mouth that swallows up your sobs until he is forced to break the kiss so he can reach between your bodies and finish unlacing his breeches. 

You gasp for breath, looking up and straight at him, your eyes wet and pleading, your lip trembling. 

“Don’t ruin me, please - I beg you, don’t take from me what can never be replaced - “

The prince’s hand hesitates on your thigh. His one eye flickers between your two, between the tears that flow uncontrollably down your cheeks; your little hands clenched into fists against his chest.

For a split second there’s a shadow of something softer on his face, a strange draw around his mouth, and then he curses and releases your leg. And you bolt, without thinking, ducking under his arm to sprint towards the door and safety. 

You manage all of two steps before the prince catches you and pins you to the pillar once more. 

“Not yet - ” he orders, slipping a hand down the front of his trousers to finally free his member from its confines. He cradles it at the base to proudly show it off before he begins to stroke himself, shamelessly and urgently, while you look on. At once frightened and sinfully curious. 

You have never seen it before. The masculine organ. Only in drawings, of which some were intended to educate young women, and others were of a much lewder nature. The prince’s manhood does look much like those anatomical illustrations, only it is bigger in person than you had imagined. Hard and swollen with need. It fits perfectly in his fist, and the skin glides back to reveal the head, which is thick and meaty, and a dark purple red. It almost looks as though it should be painful for him, having it filled and engorged in such a way. Having it stretched to be so big. But of course you know that is not the case. And even if you didn’t, his gasp of pleasure would have made it very clear. 

He reaches for your wrist, tugging it down between his legs, and you are quick to look away when he closes your fingers around it, with his own hand on top. Somehow, you reason that if you keep your eyes averted, it is not as sinful. Not as deserving of punishment. 

But you can still feel it. In your palm, against your clammy skin. Warm, and pulsing as he squeezes your fingers tight around the shaft, moving them from the base to the tip and back down again, using your hand to pleasure himself. Slowly at first, but as his arousal grows he quickens the pace, moving your hand only over the tip of his member, massaging the bulbous head with quick movements. All the while groping at your chest.

And you let him do it. All of it, resigning yourself to be used at his will and pleasure. It is the best and safest course of action now, and all you can do is bear it. You keep your sobs inside, and your eyes cast down, staring mindlessly at the patterns in the stone floor until the prince’s hand seizes your jaw. 

“Look at me,” he commands through gritted teeth, running his thumb over your mouth, pressing against your lips. “Open - suck, use your tongue - “

You do as he says, wanting so desperately to just be done with it - once he has finished he will surely let you go. The thought prompts you to suck on his fingers with increasing fervour, taking them deep into your mouth, running your tongue along the length of them, along his knuckles; making him gasp at the feeling.  

“Fuck, like that - gods yes,” he moans, letting go of your hand to lean against the pillar for support, his eye falling closed, his hips making shallow, instinctive thrusts.

You continue with the same movements, up and down over his manhood, trying to mimic exactly what he did before, whilst still sucking on his fingers, too. Letting him feel your soft mouth and your warm lips; your little wet tongue caressing his skin. You haven’t a clue as to what you are supposed to be doing, and there is no grace or skill to your licks, but each swirl of your tongue makes the prince moan regardless. He would probably much rather feel this attention somewhere else, but clearly he has the wits to know that shoving his member into an unwilling mouth is not a wise idea. So he contents himself with this. 

And thankfully, it does not take long before your efforts are rewarded.

When you choke back a mewl his hips jerk forward, and his hand flies down to close around yours again, guiding you to squeeze him harder and faster. His jaw goes slack, and his manhood stiffens even more, and even though you are inexperienced, you know what it means. You can feel it, feel his sac tighten, feel him twitch in your hand as semen travels up his shaft. He bends to lean his forehead against yours, and finally, finally, he spurts, moaning with pleasure as he empties himself onto your hand, his seed pulsing out in hot, wet squirts. Soiling not only your skin and your dress, but your conscience too; your virtue, honour and dignity.

And at last it is over. 

The prince slumps forwards against you, hiding his face in your neck. His body trembles with the final waves of his rapture, and he brushes his fingers over your hair in a strangely intimate way, a tender way. As though you were lovers. 

In a sense, now, you suppose you are. 

Before he leaves you he quickly tidies his clothes, throwing his cloak around his shoulders and tucking his shirt into his trousers. And once he has made himself presentable, he retrieves your veil too. Brushing it off with a gloved hand and draping it over your head once more. 

“Thank you, Sister,” he says sweetly, cradling your face to kiss your lips and then your forehead. “I feel much more at ease now.” 

No sooner have the doors closed behind him before you fall to your knees by the Maiden’s altar to beg for her forgiveness. 

Part 2: The Devil You Know

Please feel free to come into my asks or DMs with critique of my fics! Constructive is preferred, but not required.

Tags. @arcielee, @helaelaemond, @targaryen-madness, @qyburnsghost.

[s-4pphics]

where we meet. (e.w.)

when ur a monsterfucker n its kinktober lol am i right guys

*silence*

…..

thank u 4 the pointers baby :3 ilysm @elliesbelle

wc;cw: 17.8k, baker!oc, demon!ellie, HEAVY ANGST [mentions underage drinking + alcoholism + drunk driving + car accidents + death], oc’s an eldest daughter… yeah, HORROR? [gore + animal death/mutilation? + vomit + idk scary shit like blood n stuff], SMUT!!!!![HEAVY DUBCON + sexual tension + ellie shape shifts LOL + her tongue is barbed and forked and long like a fruit rollup + blood drinking + fucking outside HAHA + splash of sadism + edging + tentacles WOOO THIS BITCH IS SHAKING THE TABLE!!! + pain kink + spit but venomous + lots of cum/squirting + anal/d!p + err restraint? + oral + crazy size kink + dirty talk + masturbation? + dumbification/mind break + dacryphilia + burning/marking

“Alright, my love! A dozen red velvet cupcakes, four slices of carrot cake, and ten brownies!” 

You handed two large brown bags filled with desserts over to your favorite regular, Roxanna, “I threw in two complementary cannolis, don’t tell Hattie, please!” You whispered. 

The older woman laughed, turning to depart with the sweet treats, “She ain’t getting a word outta me. Thank you, baby. See you soon.” 

“Have an amazing birthday! Try not to get too rowdy on that yacht, now!”

“Girl, I’m grown! If one of my guests show up without a bottle, they ain’t gettin’ on, point blank!” You both giggled. 

She blew you a kiss and scurried off, the small bell above the door ringing at her exit. You sighed and scurried to the back and into the kitchen, untying your apron and hanging it on the coat rack. 

“Now, Miss Hattie— “

“I know you ain’t tryna disrupt my craft right now. You know better!” The elderly woman had her gray hairs pinned back under her hair net, practically squatting near the counter as she perfected the icing job on the three-layered wedding cake, shrouded in gold and sparkly silver. Your heart grew fonder at the slight tremble in her hands as she piped sprouts of buttercream around the cake topper. 

Hattie, despite her stubbornness, was reason your… fresh start went so smoothly. Meeting her was a blessing in disguise; It was raining when you stumbled upon the old bakery she worked at years ago. You’d just moved as far as you could from your hometown, in desperate need of a job. She turned down your desperate pleads time and time again, that is until you showed up to the shop one last time, drenched in rain, with your homemade red velvet cake. 

She’d nearly cracked you with a broom herself when she saw you standing by the service stand, but you pleaded one last time, and left the foil wrapped dish on the register counter without another word. You’d piqued her interest. Just a smidge. 

You’d received a call from a random number — the owner of the shop— days later, offering you a position at the local bakery. 

As a dishwasher. 

Your victory didn’t last long, however. Turns out your boss was a thieving bastard, cutting all the employee's earnings by a third months after you were hired. You were shocked no one shoved a piping bag up his ass. 

Weeks later, you were out of a job. And so was Hattie. 

… Did she reluctantly ask you for tips on how you made your cake that moist as you two waited for the bus, hairnets still on? Absolutely. And you shared them on the ride back to her small home.

She swiftly became your support, your right-hand man, your newfound comfort only after a few months. You silently thank the universe for her everyday; You couldn’t imagine opening your spot without her with you, making sure to double — triple whatever shit pay her previous boss gave her. 

“C’mon, Roxie just picked up. We needa head out now,” Closing was always a hassle whenever Hattie was in the zone. The extra five minutes she often requested easily turned into an hour if not regulated; Bless her heart. 

She sighed and stretched, “Alright,” Reluctance in her tone. “You’re lucky my grandkids are coming to see me tomorrow!” She set her piping bag down and allowed you to stroll the wedding cake into the walk-in fridge. 

Hattie hardly ever asked for time off; You practically have to shove her out your bakery doors every Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, New Years! The only request — demand she’s ever made was no work on Halloween. She gave you explicit instructions when you hired her years ago: don’t call my phone during the day of evil! 

Her request threw you for a whirl at first. You assumed she was joking because what seventy-year-old woman still cares about Halloween and its lore? When she hadn’t laughed with you, however, you apologized and offered her three days off for the end of October. Everyone deserves to be with their family, regardless of time of year.

You wished you had someone to call during the cozy Fall. 

You threw yourself into work the second you got the chance. Opening your bakery a year ago was something you’d been working towards since you made your first batch of cupcakes at ten years old. You and your mother baked until your arms burned from kneading years after that, and the hobby swiftly became your down time. Your shop was small and crowded, but your name was printed on the door. 

You never thought you’d be able to own anything after the last decade of being locked up, after the accident you’d caused. 

That horrid day and its repercussions continues to loom over you like a dark cloud no matter where you go, filling your life with trails of dread that refuse to be washed away. You lost your family, some friends, a potential partner, and it was all because of one mindless decision during your reckless and dark teenage years. 

To put it bluntly, you never recovered. Everyday is a struggle, but you’ve managed to distract yourself with work. Your newfound friends hate that they never see you, but you beg them to accept that you're busy whenever you receive an invitation to dinner. 

Sadly, your accomplishments are not companions, and your heart is forever vacant. Nothing — or no one — will change that. 

No matter how many times you’ve tried to reach out to your loved ones, your calls go unanswered. You came to terms with the fact that they’ll always see you as the force that destroyed their unity — the disappointment, ages ago, but your heart still longs for their affection. 

You wake up and hope for their forgiveness everyday. 

“You comin’?”

Miss Hattie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as you silently walked her to the door, her work bag in hand and ready to go. 

“No, ma’am. Still gotta check the inventory.” 

She sucked her teeth, “I coulda still been decorating— “

“Enough of that! Get on home!” You waved her off with a smile. 

“Uh huh,” She rolled her eyes and left with a nod, “See you next week!” 

You waved goodbye, shutting the door fully and flipping the open sign to close. 

You stretched your arms above your head, your achy shoulders and neck popping with stiffness. All you wanted was a fucking massage. 

You made your way back to the kitchen, clipboard in hand, marking off products that desperately needed refilling. What kind of bakery runs out of sugar? Sugar!

The bus ride home was nauseating; You need your own car desperately. 

You politely greeted your neighbors as they left the elevator before heading to your floor. The late afternoon sun was blooming through the hallway windows of your building. You unlocked your door, the waft of cool air from the open window in your living room brushing your skin. 

You tossed your bag off your shoulders, and it thudded to the floor, the overworked bones in your arms cracking when you stretched them up at the ceiling. 

The small ball of fur rubbing against your leg rejuvenated you in seconds. 

Your cat meowed happily when you bent down to plant kisses on her head. She followed you into the kitchen as you heated the kettle on the stove, hopping onto the counter to watch you work. 

“You know better. Get down,” your eyes squinted. 

She only tilted her head at you before sitting on the granite completely. You were too tired to move her. 

Whistles erupted from the small hole in the pot minutes later. You filled your mug to the brim with the soothing herbal tea your friends gave you before heading into your bedroom. 

You closed your blinds and undressed completely, plopping onto your blankets, taking sips from your mug as exhaustion and warmth flooded your body. 

The last thing you remember was your cat walking all over your back. 

THUD, THUD THUD THUDTHUD—

Your body shook awake at the pounding coming from the entrance of your home. Anxiety surged in your gut when the loud knocks against wood came to a sudden halt, only to start up again, even more frantic and aggressive. 

THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—

You kicked your blankets off and sat up, your sweaty form clinging to the sheets as you searched around your room. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but your door was wide open. You never leave your door open. Did you shut your door when you came home from… 

Where were you before this? 

You called for your cat once, twice, three times, but she never came. Your apartment was always quiet, but this silence… It was weighted, a heavy press on your chest. 

You don’t remember how you got into your living room, but your toes were digging into the soft fluff of your rugs, attempting to sketch into the floor. Even the slightest movement felt like a fight against sludge. Like trekking through the rain in drenched clothes. The knocks didn’t cease, and was synced with the pounding in your ears. 

The walls were breathing. Why couldn’t you breathe? You swore you were going to throw up. 

The painted plaster moved in waves, your door plunging in and out of its frame, back and forth like a pendulum, but you couldn’t see behind it; Your toenails scratched harder into the floor. You couldn’t stop staring at the door. Every nerve in your brain was urging you to run, find a place to hide, but your body wouldn’t allow it. You simply stood, trapped in a cloud of distress. 

The banging stopped and you inhaled, air finally filling your lungs. The feel of fabric beneath your toes was no longer there: something softer than hardwood. Something squishy, something sticky and wet with hair. Your nails tore into it, oddly comforted by the sensation. 

All was quiet again, the familiar steadiness of your home calming your racing heart. 

Until a weak, wheezing exhale came from beneath you; You nearly missed it. Your heart rate skyrocketed when you peered at your feet. 

Your cat’s neck and stomach were sliced open, her small organs pouring out of the large slit in her body. Maggots and spiders were crawling all over her, your feet completely drenched in her blood and your nails plunged deep into her decomposing skin. The insects devouring your nearly dead pet rushed up your legs at an alarming rate, tearing into your thighs like desperate rats fiending for a meal. 

You woke up screaming. 

“Girl…”

“I don’t know why that happened! I’ve never had a dream like that before!” All the lights were on in your home, your kitty purring in your lap as you stroked her comfortingly. “I know it’s late but can you come over? I’m honestly… freaked out right now.” 

Your good friend, Celeste, exhaled over the line, “… Yeah,” she resigned. “Gimmie ten minutes. I love you. Just… try to relax.” 

You breathed when she told you to, your head bobbing like she could see you, “Okay. I love you too.” 

You almost didn’t want to hang up, but you’d already bothered your friend enough tonight. It’s been a while since you two hung out together; You hope she’s up for a sleepover! 

Your kitty nuzzled your chin affectionately. You hoped she knew you would never hurt her. 

“I’ve never been so horrified in my life!” You spoke around the sugary spoon in your mouth. “Dreams have never… felt like that for me. I swear, it doesn’t matter how deep my sleep paralysis is! I felt like I was really,” you quickly peered around the room for your kitty, praying she couldn’t hear you. “Stepping on her body! My poor angel.” 

Celeste shoveled more ice cream into her mouth, “Girl, that’s fucking crazy,” she assured, nodding towards your sleeping baby on the table. “Just remember that nothing actually happened. You love her and she loves you.” 

She continued after a heavy sigh. “But you know me. Dreams, nightmares, they’re all from something, and if it felt as real as you say…” Her brow arched at you. What the fuck is she talking about? 

Her eyes rolled in exasperation, “Isn’t your coworker, like… mad superstitious? Queen, but still. The devil’s working, girl.” 

You took a deep breath like she instructed a billion times over since she’s arrived. A smirk grew on her face. 

“Plus… it’s that time of year. ,” she stuck her tongue out and playfully grabbed her tits, “We gettin’ slutty. Gotta show out for Scorpio season. I made my own costume.” 

Your nerves calmed at the reminder of your friends' packed weekend. Since your only true time off was during the spooky season, they always encouraged you to join them in their reckless behavior, especially during your time off. You resigned from partying a long time ago, but did indulge in the lively atmosphere from time to time during the holiday season. 

“You’re right,” you sighed and placed your hands over the resting ones on her chest. 

“Thank you! Take that damn chef hat off!” she scolded. “No more business talk until— “

“Next week, I know,” you mocked, “And I don’t wear chef hats, thanks.” 

“Don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m getting pipe tomorrow night,” Celeste fell back on the sofa, giddily kicking her feet in the air.

A hearty chuckle escaped you. Maybe you’d meet someone too. 

You were finally able to get some rest— thank god for Celeste — and start organizing your costumes for the… large sum of parties they planned to drag you to. 

You still haven’t completely recovered from your nightmare two nights ago. The vivid imagery that your subconscious conjured up still gives you the ick, but for the sake of your friends, you chose not to bring it up again. You silently thanked the universe when you managed to get a full nine hours the night before. 

Your friends managed to pull you into the Halloween spirit and take you to… Spirit. Despite the void stares from your friends at your costume choices, you settled on the Zelda outfit that’d been on sale at Party City for the past two weeks. Celeste couldn’t stop herself from… cutting your costume up and making it as revealing as possible. She opted to cut off the sleeves, sew the pants into a skirt that hugged your body way too tightly, and did your makeup how she wanted. You didn’t stand a chance against her. 

You despised how hot clubs get; You probably looked like you were melting. 

You stayed as far away from the bar as you could, watching your friends down shot after shot as the night progressed. Your surroundings were crowded and stuffy, the bass of the DJ booth rattling from your feet all the way up to your chest. Your moves were sloppy and disoriented, but Celeste was behind you, grabbing your hips and supporting your weight. 

Your thoughts were hazy and incoherent as your arms waved around to the beat. The music blasting in your ears turned into white noise; The environment completely entranced you, your eyes shutting at the weightlessness of your clammy body. 

The hands behind you were suddenly grabbing tighter, yanking you closer, as you continued to dance. 

You pushed back onto them and their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, yanking you close, your clammy flesh practically melding with theirs. Their scent engulfed you, rich and deep yet distinct. Your arm wrapped around the back of their neck, pulling them down while their hands explored your hips. 

Their lips were on your neck, your head resting on their shoulder. Something hot was stirring in the pit of your stomach the more they swayed you, the arch in your back deepening; You haven’t felt wanted in so long. 

You tried to spin to face them, but they held you still, pressing their chest into your backside. Your breaths picked up when they bit the most sensitive spot on your neck, your toes curling in your heeled boots, your manicured nails nearly chipping in your stockings. 

Their mouth moved higher and higher, right under your ear, the hand coming up to wrap around your throat to hold you still. Your core squeezed as the grip on your neck tightened… and tightened… your airways were closing, and swiftly, the feeling was no longer pleasant. Your eyes snapped open when they didn’t let up, a shocked gasp escaping your dry mouth. The moment was no longer sensual, but straining and forceful. Almost angry. 

Your lust turned to panic instantly, your eyes bulging as your nails dug into their hands, their taut thighs, their wrist, but they didn’t budge. You thrashed and shook with terror. You gasped for air and tried to push them off but it was all for naught. 

Nobody came to help you. Suddenly all the faceless bodies around you were gone, heaps of black smoke pooling at your feet as you wailed for Celeste. The hands and lips were replaced with razor sharp claws and fangs as cold as ice against the side of your face, murmuring voices and screaming chants roaring in your ears. The former body grew monstrous, tripling in size and darkening. 

The sensation of decaying, bloody skin was at your feet once more, fiery red ants and black widows nipping at your skin as the smoke flooded up your body, swallowing your calves, thighs, waist. 

Weak shouts and begs for release went unheard by the force behind you. A faint whisper of your name made you sob harder; You’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die—

The whisper called your name again. And again. And again, much louder and urgent. Desperate for a response but all you could do was holler for your mother. 

One last shout of your name made you drop to the floor, all the sensations surrounding your body gone. Your crown clanked onto the vibrating hardwood as drunk clubgoers gawked at you in confusion and annoyance, Celeste and your friends staring in concern, reaching to help you up. 

But you couldn’t be touched. Any brush on your skin surged your heart to your throat. You needed to get the fuck out of here. 

Your friends kept yelling about what happened, how they could help, but you couldn’t speak. You swore you were going to vomit. 

You pushed yourself off the hardwood and through the crowd, away from your friends, away from everyone. Your smudged makeup stained your wrists, the shouts of your name going unheard as you shoved passed security and ran into the night. 

You didn’t sleep at all that night. 

You immediately left the club, hauled a taxi, and ran up into your apartment, double — triple checking to make sure all your doors were locked and windows were closed. You tore your costume off your body and threw it into your garbage before hopping into the shower. You desperately wanted to wash your hair, but you refused to close your eyes. The darkness when you blinked was haunting enough. 

To put it lightly, you were fucking horrified. 

Your body trembled under the steaming water, soft sobs escaping while you scrubbed your skin raw. Especially your shoulder. 

Your phone rang off the hook until the sun rose, your kitty refusing to leave your lap. She never failed to comfort you in your times of need, but you barely rubbed her all night. All you could do is cry and think. 

Your friends pounded on your door multiple times, but you refused to move from your bed. Their frantic knocking was very reminiscent of the pounding in your nightmare. You couldn’t shake how real everything felt: the comfort, the desire, the destress, the pure, unfiltered terror at the imagery of you being eaten alive by darkness. If you could even call it that: imagery. 

Imagery is not enough to describe what you experienced. You were attacked in public, and no one bothered to help you. Nobody… saw anything. 

You’re not fucking crazy. 

Your friends were sweet enough to stop by the same afternoon with candles and lavender-scented bath bombs after your public breakdown. Their efforts at lifting your spirits didn’t go unnoticed, but your thoughts kept racing, every time you shut your eyes, even for a few seconds. How the hell were you going to explain what you saw that night? 

Despite your friends’ skepticism, you were eventually able to convince them that you felt severely claustrophobic and the lack of air sent you spiraling. 

… It wasn’t a complete lie, at least. 

You were able to get some minuscule hours of sleep after they left before it was time to prepare for your shift. Dark circles were imprinted under your eyes, your skin was dry, and your uniform was not ironed, but you were up and moving. Small victories. 

Your hand was practically glued to your forehead in extreme fatigue, your eyes burning at the brightness of your computer screen as you checked the time. Your emails always boomed during this time of year as people prepared for the holiday season; A good night's sleep seemed even farther away now. 

You swiftly replied to each request with your availability before grabbing your bag and keys, kissing your kitty goodbye, and running down to the bus stop. 

You greeted every familiar face with a polite smile before entering the already packed vehicle, the beginnings of a rising sun beaming through the scratched windows. You plopped onto the only available seat — farthest away from your neighbors — with a heavy exhale, your head falling against its rest. 

This week is going to be so gruesome for orders; You prayed Ms. Hattie was prepared for it. 

Returning to work was just as draining as you’d assumed. 

Your business line has been ringing off the hook all morning, people asking for dozens of gingerbread cookies and wedding cakes layered to the ceiling. You could make a nest for yourself right on the clean tiles of the kitchen and nap. 

You’ll never know how Ms. Hattie did it: wakes up at five in the morning and moves through decorating like a walk in the park. You can barely lift your arms and it’s only hour three. 

You whipped egg whites and sugar like your life depended on it — it did — with your landline tucked between your shoulder and ear, reciting pick-up addresses and numbers in voicemails. You’re so fucking tired. 

Hattie wasn’t, though. Just quiet. A bit too quiet. 

She hasn’t said much since you’ve arrived. She got to the shop much earlier than expected, politely saying good morning when she caught you standing by the kitchen entrance. She hasn’t acknowledged you since. You tried to get some laughs out of her, but she only half-smiled before silently returning to her work.

You two continued to carefully wrap and deliver dessert-filled boxes like a well fueled machine up until the last minutes before closing. You stretched before grabbing the broom to sweep the entire shop, making your way into the kitchen where Hattie was staring off into nothing. 

“Hey, girl. I can close up, so,” you murmured, wiping the sweat off your brow. 

She seemed to be pulled out of her trance, “Oh, sorry hun,” Her head bobbed. “Are you sure you’re good on your own?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” You paused. “Umm, are you doin’ okay? You seemed… I dunno, quiet, I guess.” 

Hattie nodded, and you took it as an invitation to speak. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about? You didn’t even tell me how your weekend went. How’re the kiddos?” You asked gently, propping your broom against the wall. 

A heavy exhale left her. 

“I… Something was…” she stuttered. 

Another deep inhale. Another lengthy exhale. 

“Something felt different, no?” She whispered. 

Your brows pulled down in confusion. “What d’you mean?” 

“This… this weekend. Wasn’t it different?” 

“Umm…” you pondered. “Not really, no. Why, what’s goin’ on?” 

More silence before she huffed, “… Nothin’. You know how I get this time of year. Sorry, dear.” She turned and snatched her work bag off the counter before departing with a skittish nod, “See ya tomorrow.” 

“W-Wait—“ You tried to stop her, but the kitchen door was already slamming shut, the small ding alarming Hattie’s departure from your shop. 

You allowed your tense shoulders to drop, snagging the broom and heading towards the front of your shop for cleanup. 

That was odd. 

The front door of your apartment shut and you fell back against it in exhaustion. You desperately needed a massage. 

You stretched before pushing yourself off the door and wobbling over to your cat’s area, refilling her bowl and cleaning her litter box. You clicked your tongue to lure her over to eat. 

You called her name out when she didn’t come. You snagged her filled bowl and shook it, alerting your baby to come and eat. She still didn’t come. You huffed and made your way into your room; She probably took over your softest pillow again.

The bowl in your hand clattered to the floor and your screams nearly shattered your windows. Bile rose in your throat and you heaved at the scene in front of you. 

Your beloved pet was dead. Completely mauled, her blood and organs pouring out of the giant slit that went from her throat to her stomach. Sobs wracked through you at the savage attack. The one source of comfort that you looked forward to seeing every morning and night was gone, snatched away from you in the blink of an eye. You've tried to alleviate your anxiety by suggesting that your nightmares are merely that. Dreams. Creations by your subconscious to try and solve issues that occur in your everyday life. 

But nothing so heinous would ever cross your mind. You would never harm the precious angel who brought you healing in your times of need.  

This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone came into your home while you were away. Someone killed your baby. 

“We’re sorry, ma’am,” the county deputy sighed, “But there wasn’t any sign of breaking and entering. You stated that everything is where you left it, correct?” 

“Everything wasn’t where I left it,” Anger rushed through you at the officer’s dismissiveness. “My cat was fucking fine before I went to work. I’d never… put her in an environment where she could be harmed,” Tears flooded your eyes. 

“We understand that this was an attack done in your home. What happened here’s definitely not normal, but we won’t be able to solve everything in one night,” He consoled, “We’re getting a team here to investigate. I would suggest packing an overnight bag and staying with family or a friend until we get this situated.” 

Family. You almost broke down. 

When you didn’t respond, he interjected, “We can also find you a room to stay in for a few nights— “

“No, uh, thanks. I got it.” 

You dug in your pocket for your phone and dialed Celeste. He nodded and spun towards his partner who jabbered into a walkie. 

Your friend’s tone blared through the speakers, “Hiii, baby, what’s up! I haven’t heard from you in a minute.” 

Your bottom lip wobbled, “Sorry I didn’t call. Um… can I ask a favor?” 

“Of course you can. What’s the matter? Are you good?” 

The floodgates that’d been building in your eyes overflowed, pouring down your cheeks and onto your work shirt. You wept. 

“Can you come pick me up?” 

“I just feel like… I feel like I’m going fucking crazy,” you whispered and picked at your fingers, “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but— “

“Nah, it makes perfect sense. You’re fucking psychic. That’s literally the only explanation,” your friend shook her head at you. “You dreamt about something and it happened a couple days after.” 

“None of that shit is real, Celeste.” She sighed in disappointment. 

“It’s not real to you,” she pointed from the other side of the couch. “My grandmomma was a witch—“You huffed and adjusted the blanket draped over your shoulders. 

“But, hey,” she raised her hands in defense. “I can’t make you believe anything. But coming from the most superstitious bitch in town, somebody is trying to tell you something. You’re not freaked out?” 

“Of course I’m freaked out! But I'm not wasting my time thinking about some… fuckin’ ghost— “

“What happened when we were at the club?” 

Your blood went ice cold. You couldn’t stop the pure terror that spread across your face at the mention of that night. You’ve attempted to block… whatever happened out of your memory for the last couple days for your sake, but Celeste read you like a book, and you hated her for it. 

“Exactly. Are you ready to talk about it now?” 

“I… I told you what happened— “

“You lied about what happened. And don’t try to argue,” She leaned closer, eyes comforting. “We tried calling out to you for so long. We thought somebody fucking… laced you, or something, you were so zoned out. We were this close to calling the fucking police.” 

“… What do you mean? I lost y'all in the crowd before I started dancing with somebody— “

Celeste shook her head, “No.” 

Your throat went dry, the blood rushing to your head almost making you faint. 

“We tried to tell you, baby. But we didn’t wanna push you to talk to us about it,” she said gently. “We were with you the entire time.” 

The tightness in your chest wouldn’t subside, shuddering breaths leaving your nose with every denial from Celeste.  

“No one else came up to us,” she whispered, “and no one danced with you.” 

Your head kept shaking in attempts to disprove her claims, in attempts to combat the fear that was attempting to slice you from the inside out, but deep down, you knew she was onto something. 

Celeste’s hold sadly didn’t bring comfort, but she held you close anyway, ensuring that you’re not by yourself, but all you could think about was your mother. The smile she used to give you whenever you succeeded never failed to recharge the dying battery in your back. It’s depressing how little impact her grin has on you in adulthood. 

The dark cloud of your past cascaded over the two of you; If she were here, your best friend would’ve forced you into the passenger side of her father’s pick-up, already halfway across town by now, set to isolate. To escape. 

“Whoever did this is incredibly strategic,” The tall detective stated with a journal in his hand, “They didn’t leave traces of anything: hair, fingerprints, nothing. It’s almost like they never broke in.” 

You haven’t been able to get any sleep or go to work for the last week, completely isolated inside your friend’s home. When you received a phone call from the detective assigned to your case, you caught the first bus you could and flew back to your apartment complex. You don’t remember the ride. 

Your hope plummeted at his declaration, even with his reassurance, “We’re doing everything we can to find this person. Your safety is our number one priority.”

He gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and it brought you comfort. While you weren’t satisfied with their reports, you could see that he was trying. Was this your first time meeting him? 

He seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. 

He stared into your eyes with a gentle grin and continued, “If we should even call them that. They’re a cold-blooded, heartless fiend that needs to be taken out.” 

Your brows furrowed at his sudden determination, but your head bobbed in agreement. Your mind was racing but you couldn’t say anything. Someone killed your baby. Did his grip on you tighten? You couldn’t move. 

“The bastards that get away with such vicious crimes need to be put away forever,” his tone was harsh and sharp, and it made your fingers twitch. Your stomach plummeted when his smile stretched higher, his teeth shin

His other hand landed on your other shoulder. You tried to move back, but you couldn’t, “S-Sir— “

“They need to be hung from the ceiling by their throats and slaughtered like fucking pigs! Like the worthless animals they are! —“

His spit landed on your face at his screams. He hollered about how much he hated killers, how they were scum and deserved to be tortured. How you… 

“You thought we forgot about what you did?” He whimpered; prior menacing smile vanished.

The bearded man in front of you was sobbing, his gaze pinning you against the wall. He didn’t blink and his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth turned downward, the corners of his lips nearly touching his chin. Your eyes frantically traveled over his form, his uniform replaced with pajamas and slippers. 

“YOU’RE A KILLER! YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER! —“

Cursed murmurs amplified his pained shouts. Your home was melting away, the walls seeping into the floor before you dropped, the terror weakening your limbs. Your nails dug into the grass and dirt below you, panic electrifying your system. 

The man was gone, but you were outside in the middle of the night, decomposing trees surrounding you. You tried to stand but you couldn’t. You were forced to take in the scene that you wished to never see again. The one scene that your subconscious couldn’t eliminate no matter how hard you tried to forget. 

Your parents' car— wrecked car. The vehicle was completely destroyed, the bumper and windscreen ran into a tree. You screamed and shouted but no noise left, the sinister chants resounding in your ears. The wreckage seemed to move, closer, closer, your eyes locking onto the two bodies inside completely mangled in the accident. 

The two bodies were younger you, thrown over the dashboard and your arm twisted to an alarming degree, blood running down your head and mouth, shards of glass piercing through the skin of your bare legs. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from peering at the body beside you. You hollered for help, cried and begged to wake up, all while staring at your best friend — your soulmate, completely maimed from the waist up. It was just as brutal as you remember: her blood splattered all over the airbag, her limbs shattered and broken, large pieces of glass pierced into her skull. You were sick, you were sick. 

Suddenly, the mantras that attempted to swallow you whole stopped. 

Then there was laughter. Your soulmate’s laughter, but it wasn’t how you remembered. It was darker, hollow, empty. Enraged. 

Everything around you went dark. 

Sobs tear through your throat the second your eyes open, the comforting scent of Celeste’s lavender candles intruding your senses. Your body was drenched in sweat, and you could hear your friend calling out to you, her cold hands on your face, but you couldn’t think. You just screamed. Her attempts of trying to sit you up failed, your fingers hanging onto her sheets for dear life. You were paralyzed with fear. 

Somehow, your biggest regret came to pay you a visit. 

Your instincts finally kick in, pushing Celeste off you and bolting towards her bedroom door. She was calling for you; she even reached out to touch you, but you pushed her harder. 

She screamed for you to stop, and you lost it. 

“Get the fuck away from me! STOP — stop fucking touching me!” you rush out into her living room and towards her front door. 

Shocked plastered across your friend’s face. 

Celeste whispered your name; Why did she sound like her?

“I gotta get the fuck outta here, I can’t,” heave, “I can’t fucking do this, I can’t, I can’t — “

Distraught mumbles fled your tongue on your way out, not bothering to look back at your friend. You heard her sniffling before the door slammed shut, guilt swarming your chest, but it wasn’t enough to overcast the terror ripping you open from the inside out. 

After vomiting outside of Celeste’s apartment building, — multiple times — you took your leave. As fast as you could. You couldn't say a word to her; She desperately tried to get information out of you, but your throat felt like it would crack open at the slightest whisper. The fear you’d been trying to invalidate crashed into you all at once. 

You fled without your belongings, only slowing when night goers surrounded you in the city.��

Celeste has been worried sick about you this entire time, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. 

Your steps were jerky and quick, and you kept scratching at your shoulder. You felt her everywhere. All over you, but it wasn’t comforting. Not like it used to be. 

You walked and walked, your mind racing with moments from your past: the last moments with your best friend. Your kryptonite. The scar in your shoulder was covered in fresh, red lines from your nails. 

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You frantically shoved your books into your locker, anticipating the alarm that sounded for lunch. You can’t wait to get the hell out of here. 

The second it goes off, you're booking it for the door. You hoped Ellie kept her word and brought your birthday present. 

You busied yourself in your small cubby whenever security or teachers walked by, politely greeting them with the most innocent smile you could muster. They didn’t bat an eye, wishing you a happy birthday before turning the corner at the end of the hall. 

You gave them all fake greetings until the loud tone blared through the hallway speakers, students instantly rushing out of their classrooms to head to the cafeteria. You grabbed your now empty backpack and merged with the crowd, trekking for the exit. You managed to scurry through the double doors of the school and bolted towards your parents’ old car, ducking behind the driver's side as you waited for your best friend. 

You texted her a few times but she didn’t respond for minutes. You almost gave up and returned inside the building before two hands pinched your sides from behind. A squeal left your mouth when you whipped around. Ellie snorted at you, her arms wrapping around your neck in a tight hug. You reluctantly hugged her back. 

HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU—

You shushed her shouts with a smile, Shut up! Someone might hear you.

She kissed your cheek before releasing you, No ones fucking here, relax. Open the door, her head jerked towards the vehicle.

You stealthily unlocked it and the two of you jumped in. You shoved the key into the ignition as Ellie cranked the speakers all the way up, your car rattling with bass as you two exited the parking lot and zoomed down the main street. 

Ellie belted Cherry Waves out the window, bright laughs leaving your throats as you drove to… anywhere. Times like this always bring you joy; You love being around her. 

Ditching class might’ve not been the best birthday celebration, but you were having a ball. 

You drove until you reached the end of town. There was a small campground that you and Ellie found on your first couple drives together, and it swiftly became your little get away spot. You’d spend hours talking, drawing, screaming at the top of your lungs until the sun disappeared and your parents demanded you come home. 

You two raced to your designated spot by the lake, Ellie’s filled backpack slamming onto the sand, glass clattering from the inside. You mischievously eyed it, I think someone owes me a present! 

I don’t owe you shit. I’m a good friend, say thank you, She rolled her eyes. You grabbed her hands and clumsily twirled her. 

Thank you, Ellieee! you nearly ripped her bag apart as you inspected the contents. 

Don’t go too crazy. Remember what happened last time? her smile was light, but you could tell she was scolding you. You snickered. 

Um, yeah. We had a ball. Help me open this, you downplayed, passing her the unopened bottle. 

You know exactly what she’s referring to; You might’ve drank a bit too much at your friend’s birthday dinner. And Christmas party… and when you all went to the fair, but it was all in good fun! You’re young and living life; Ellie’s always a bit dramatic when she comments on your drinking. 

Ellie snatched the bottle and opened it, taking a large swig from it before handing it back. You followed in her lead, taking three large gulps of the liquid, the burn flowing down your throat and into your stomach. Ellie pulled her speaker out of her bag and queued your joint playlist. 

The two of you drank and sang and danced until sunset, your vision blurry and legs wobbly. Ellie was sweet enough to help you back to the car, snagging the keys from your pocket before helping you into the passenger side. You tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t understand. She always looked so cute when you mumbled nonsense, wispy brows pulled down with a light smile. You felt so happy whenever she was around. 

She drove you back home and you threw up all over your front yard. Somehow, she snuck past your parent's room without hassle, ushering you into bed. You couldn’t stop laughing; Her bright smile only made you cackle louder before her hand pressed against your mouth. 

—

Ellie’s soft palms moved up and down your arm bare, occasionally squeezing your bicep. You couldn’t stop smiling, goosebumps following the drag of her fingertips.

You’re such a dork, she whispered between snickers. 

You love me, you said much louder, but she hummed. The look in her eye was suddenly far away. You nervously nibbled at your bottom lip, your eyes dropping to her mouth. Did her lips always look this soft?

You admired every aspect of her face in silence, your index finger continuing to trace over the bridge of her nose, the apple of her cheeks, down to her chin. Ellie’s a sight. 

Your hazy mind barely noticed the tint on her cheeks, your bedroom dimly lit by the moonlight cascading in from your window. Her eyes were glued to your mouth. 

She inched closer, her moves subtle. You would’ve missed it if she wasn’t right there. 

You don’t know what came over you, but your mouth pressed against hers. Her lips were stiff against yours, and it made you pull away.

She didn’t seem… happy, not how you felt. Her expression was gloomy, her eyes flashing with… everything and nothing at the same time. You locked up instantly. 

You love me, Ellie… right? 

Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth when you slurred. 

Ellie didn’t answer, and you held yourself up on your elbow, your brain alarming your legs to get up and leave. To abandon. 

Ellie… d-do you love me? 

O-Of course I do—

The tremors in her voice sliced through you like a hot blade. Her confirmation was only meant to appease, your drunk brain told you. Ellie doesn’t love you, not like that. Your own parents’ love is conditional; Why wouldn’t hers be?

—

You were never a rebellious kid. 

Your parents always praised you for being a remarkable role model for your younger siblings: incredible listener, studious, eager to help others. They never failed to highlight, amplify, pressure your good behavior. But their doting smiles disappeared when you failed to meet their expectations. 

The transition from middle to high school was rough for you. Your grades suffered and you were surrounded by other kids you didn’t recognize, and your “star-student” streak vanished in an instant. You’ve never seen your family so disappointed in you. 

You broke your back trying to save your academic status for the next few years. You hardly slept, ate, spent time with your newfound friends, and it was all for your parents. They didn’t acknowledge you until that offer to join the early-college program came in the mail during your sophomore year. When you accepted that you needed to have something to show to get their affection, you spiraled downward. 

You swiftly replaced the emptiness in your heart with a bunch of seniors. They agreed to let you tag along if you could hang, so you did whatever was necessary to gain their companionship: started sneaking out, staying out late, going to parties that you had no business being at. 

Started drinking. 

Just one sip, loosen up! Little did you know that’s all it took to get you hooked. 

The drink was rancid and a gross, murky color. You weren’t enjoying it, so why couldn’t you put the cup down for the rest of the night? You threw back cup after cup until you were unconscious on the front porch of the house. None of your friends bothered to take you inside where it was safe. 

You barely recall being hauled back inside and upstairs, plush pillows under your head as you drifted off. When you woke, you swiftly decided that the pounding in your head and the nausea in your gut was worth it. Last night was the freest you’d ever felt. You almost missed the small sticky note stuck on your arm. Someone gave you their phone number, demanding that you tell them if you made it out alive (i hope so.)

You gained a best friend from that sloppily scratched note. 

Meeting Ellie was a blessing. She was funny, smart and kind. She was so nice to you. None of your old friends treated you like she did. Ellie’s friends were much warmer and welcoming when she introduced you to them for the first time. Every time they had plans, you were invited, no conditions needed. 

Every vacant space in your heart was filled with something brighter. It’s unfortunate that your brain has already mastered its attachment to something more dangerous. 

Ellie… for the billionth fucking time, I don’t have a problem. Can you just let it go? you scoffed from your bed. 

I’ll let it go when you cut it out. You can’t do shit without it anymore, She spat, pointing at the McDonald’s cup filled with Tequila. You grinned nastily and sipped your straw. You were so sick of having this conversation with your friends. With her. 

Yes, I can. I’m fine. See? You sarcastically rubbed all over your body. Another huge gulp. I dunno why y'all are acting like this. I’m not the only one that drinks. 

You’re not fuckin’ fine, first of all! It was fun at first, but you don’t know how to control yourself! You’re scaring everybody off, Her arms flailed as her voice rose. You’re so happy your parents are working. 

You weren’t “scaring everybody off”; You did have some outbursts some time ago, but your friends were still around. They always called you for a fun time, and you were always there to show out. 

Oh my fucking god, you’re so extra, you got up with your cup, grabbing Ellie’s hand and leading her into the bathroom down the hall. You removed the lid and dumped its contents out; You tried to hide the surge of anxiety as you watched it go down the drain. 

See? I can stop whenever I want. 

Then stop, she whispered, sadness in her eyes, No more… okay? 

The emotions flowed through her eyes like water, and it made you uncomfortable. You already wanted a refill, but you nodded to appease her. 

O-Okay, Ellie, I’m sorry, you whispered, and she hugged you so tight. Kissed your clothed shoulder, and it gave you solace, even if it was just temporary. 

But when she left, you were alone, comforted by the temptation of your own thoughts. You broke into your parents’ locked liquor cabinet that same night. 

—

When you showed up to exam day drunk, Ellie began to pull away. 

She didn’t bother to beg and yell when you were entranced by your vice. You simply saw her less, and your heart cracked whenever your calls went unanswered. 

Abandonment was the worst feeling, even more so when it’s a result of something you’ve done. Your anxiety spiked significantly when you strolled around campus and your friends ignored you, and it only made you drink more when you got home. The acidic pacifier you discovered was turning you into someone unrecognizable. You were failing, and you were alone. You’d wished your siblings were older so you could talk to them. 

Everything came crashing when your parents received an alarmed call from your principal. 

You’d been vomiting in the nurse's office for half an hour, and they ended up calling the ambulance. Your stomach was getting pumped hours later. 

When you regained consciousness, the only thing you could hear were your mother’s hysteric sobs in the hall. 

—

Summer came along, and you were out of rehab. Withdrawal fucking sucked; It took you almost three weeks to fall asleep in the center. 

You didn’t expect to see Ellie and your friends sitting on your porch when your parents pulled into the driveway, flowers and your favorite candy in hand. Your best friend cried into your shoulder for an hour straight; You refused to let her go as you sobbed into hers. You’d missed hugging her. 

When everyone was seated on your parents' couch, you offered to share the secret to get melty, gooey chocolate chip cookies every time. They couldn’t stop grinning at you; You were finally back to normal. 

Ellie spent the night at your house and hugged you to her chest until you drifted off. 

You accepted that you were a terrible person when all you could think about was a drink. Just one. 

All the promises you made were broken a few months later, crushed into dust by your own hand.  

—

Everyone you loved hated you. Liquor always forced you to see the truth in people, melted away the fantasy that you created out of self-preservation. It fueled the rage that you desperately tried to keep hidden from your family; You’re so fucking mad, and you can’t remember why. 

Your parents hated you; your siblings hated you, your best friend, the one person you have to confide in, the only thing you had left to love, hated you. Everyone hated you, and it was all your fault. Selfishness was the only way one could be a successor. 

The second Ellie climbed into your parents’ car with that soft look in her eye, fury swallowed you whole. You barely said a word to her, her favorite song cranked to maximum volume. 

Ellie? Your voice was quiet, but you were seething. You don’t remember why. 

Hm? 

D-Do you still care about me? your hands were clenched around the wheel so tightly, you thought it would snap in two. She was suddenly tense in the passenger seat, but she whispered without hesitation. Of course, I do… always. 

But you didn’t believe her. 

Ellie should’ve never agreed to go on a drive with you. 

The way Ellie whipped her head towards you was vicious, her hand slamming onto the volume button of your car to silence the noise. You hated how she knew instantly. 

… Are you fucking drunk right now? 

There it was. All the proof you needed. Confirmation that you were nothing but a disappointment. You hadn’t moved from the stop sign. Self-loathing thrashed from the inside; your teeth are bound to crack like glass with the tightness of your jaw. 

She’d whispered your name with so much disdain. A molten tear eased down your face like magma. This was the same residential area you parallel parked in for your driver’s test. 

Your eyes were glued onto the dimly lit street as Ellie cried and begged for you to stop the car. She admitted to loving you and apologized for everything she said that could’ve hurt your feelings. All you had to do was stop the car and everything would be fine, she said. You pressed the gas so hard; it nearly touched the floor of the vehicle. 

I love you… Please don’t do this… I love you so much… 

Ellie’s last scream was haunting before everything went silent. 

—

The reality around you never rebuilt itself after that night. 

You were able to convince yourself that the accident didn’t happen for a few weeks. Until your best friend’s burial. According to your parents last voicemail, Ellie’s father wanted to strangle you with his bare hands. You took his life away with one decision. No one contacted you after that. Not your parents, not your siblings, not your friends. 

You were charged and placed in juvenile detention until you were of legal age, and sent off to prison for another six years after that. 

Your habit fed you lies about the people you loved most, and it cost the life of your only constant. The one person who tried to get you to change. The purest form of love you had. 

You killed your soulmate, and you never recovered. 

PRESENT

You walked until you reached Hattie’s front porch. Your calves were on fire. 

Your tightly clenched fist pounded on the wood with all the strength you had left. You could see the shadows of someone walking around inside, but she didn’t open the door. She probably wanted nothing to do with you after not showing up to work for weeks, but you were desperate. 

“M-Ms. Hattie, please,” you hollered, “I really need t’talk to you! Please, please— “

The door barely creaked open. You expected her to scream and berate you for disrupting her so late in the night, but she was silent. Didn’t utter a word. She only peered through the small crack in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot. Her voice sounded graveled, like she hadn’t slept in days. 

“What the hell are you doin’ here.” 

“Ms. Hattie, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where to go,” You harshly wiped your eyes, “May I please— “

“No, you may not,” her glare sliced through you, sharper than any knife. You bawled. 

“Please, I’m beggin’ you, ma’am— “

“What…” her voice quivered, her gaze breaking away from yours for a split second. 

“What did you do… to that girl?” She whispered like it pained her, and it felt like your chest would concave. 

“… W-What?”

The look on her face was enough for you. 

She knows. She knew. 

“It was you,” tears filled the woman’s eyes, “I had a dream that you… How could you do that… That poor baby…” 

Your head shook in denial. It was an accident, you wanted to scream, I don’t know what came over me! Your eyes squeezed shut and you fell to your knees, thunderous pleads leaving your throat as you begged her to listen. You hunched over and miserably tried to grab at her feet. 

I loved her, I loved her, I loved her! You couldn’t speak. 

“Whatever happens t’you…”

“No, nonono!—“

“I hope God… the universe… whoever the hell,” She spat, “Has mercy on you.” 

You couldn’t stop screaming. Your voice was muffled by the concrete floor. 

“Get the fuck off my porch.” And the door slammed in your face. You heard the locks click, and just like that, your last inkling of hope shunned you. 

You hadn’t realized you’d been screaming for Ellie until you sat up, burning eyes glued to the dark, cloudy sky. 

The sun rose from behind as you climbed your apartment steps. 

The bundle of police cars and black trucks outside the building were an indication of your case being ongoing, but it brought you no comfort. A constant ache was present in your chest every time you breathed. Murmurs erupted from behind as you dragged your body inside, ignoring the deputies who were urging you off the premises. 

Officers and residents stared at you in confusion, shock, bewilderment the second you hopped off the elevator. Exhaustion was pouring out of you, your under eyes almost black and pajamas wrinkly. You can’t recall the last time you showered. 

The elevator dung, and you made your way down the hall, police tape surrounding your front door. You dodged it and crept in, the sight of the investigators almost sending you into a panic. 

Terror built in your spine as they gawked at you; Ellie’s fucking with you. You’re probably asleep right now. 

“Ma’am?” 

You shakily turned towards the investigator assigned to your case. “Are you alright?” 

No. You nodded, “I came to get some things.” 

Some silence passed before you spoke. 

“I need a place to stay,” your cuticles were scabbing. “As far away from here as possible… if that’s even allowed.” Your living room felt like it was tipping. 

Their brows furrowed, scanning over your ragged appearance, “Um… The farthest we can place you is about a half hour away. We still need to monitor you… Especially now.” You bit the dig with a tilted head. 

You nearly leaped into the air at the sudden, distant ring in your ears. 

“Will y’all still cover m’stay?” The tremor in your hands built with the shrilling pierces in your drums. 

“Yes… Are you sure everyt— “

“I’m fine! I’m fi— I’m fine!” The shrieks overwhelmed you, both hands coming up to cover your ears, your head pounding. Foreign hands were attempting to steady your hunched form, but to no avail. Your body gave out completely, pained wails leaving your dry lips. 

I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—

You tried. You tried your hardest, but you couldn’t convince anyone — yourself that you were okay. Something’s here. When did the air in your home get so cold?

The softest call of your name frosted the blood in your veins. 

You’re hallucinating; You have to be. Don’t look up. Don’t open your eyes. 

The voice called again, elation enriching her tone. Your head shook in disbelief. 

It can’t be. 

“L-Look at me. I’m here! I'm okay!” 

No, no no no, you told yourself. Sobs wracked through your hunched form. 

“Look at me! I love you!” 

Shoe-covered feet inched towards you, slowly. Almost… cautious. 

“Wake up! Wake up, wake up!” Your whispers were harsh. Urgent. Desperate. 

A comforting hand rubbed your shoulder. You flinched and wailed, frantically pinching the skin of your wrists.  

“NO! No, no, fucking get up— “

“Shhh,” Her hand squeezed you, “It’s me.” 

You’re going to fucking puke. Your eyes stayed shut while she cradled you, your head resting on her shoulder. She felt taller, stronger, but she smelled the same. You couldn’t move, but she hugged you so tight. 

Ellie, Ellie, I love you, I’m sorry— 

A kiss on your shoulder. Right over your scar. 

“I love you more.” 

You calmed in her presence as she rocked you on the floor. Your guilt almost made you push her away, but you’re selfish; You need this, for her to hug you. 

It felt like she held you for years, right on your apartment floor. She didn’t let you go. 

But when your eyes opened, eggshell white hospital walls surrounded you. Kept you trapped in the small hell that Ellie’s created. 

You haven’t slept or eaten. You’ve barely showered. 

Ellie was with you. Ellie’s with you. You felt her there; She held you! You’re not fucking crazy. 

Three days have passed since you were carried out of your apartment by EMTs, according to the investigators that are still terrorizing your fucking home. They assumed you were having a seizure by how still you were. You were unresponsive for minutes, they’d said. Celeste was right. You didn’t have the courage to face her and apologize. 

You haven’t left your motel room since you’ve arrived. You hate it in here — it looks like it’s eroding from the outside, the windows are scratched and tinted a murky yellow, the sheets feel like sandpaper, but it’s better than home. Better than being in public amidst your impending psychological breakdown. 

Ellie’s here. She’s watching you and laughing at the wreck you’ve become. 

You’re slipping; You can feel it. The way she hugged you… You could’ve melted into her for eternity when she said she loved you, never to be seen or heard from again, completely under her control. Not that anyone would care about your disappearance. A gutted huff left you. 

Your past finally caught up to you. Tears flooded your eyes for the hundredth time tonight. 

The faint shuffling coming from your bathroom didn’t even shock you. She’s here again. 

Your eyes overflowed, and they shut in resignation; You’re going to die. 

“E-Ellie?” 

Silence. 

Your eyes squeezed tighter. You have nothing left to fight for. 

“Just do it! Just fucking do it!” 

That’s all you’ve ever been: a quitter. More shuffling, then silence. 

“FUCKING KILL ME! KI— KILL ME, ELLIE!” 

You heaved and rose from the edge of your bed. You marched down the seemingly endless hallway, heart cracking in your chest. 

“KILL ME! KILL ME, KILLME! —“

Weighted knocks pounded against your room door, shocking you into silence. She’s here, she’s here; She’s fucking with you. 

A dark chuckle left you. 

“You’re fucking sick,” You spat with a sniffle, “I hate your fucking guts, just like you hated me! You fucking hate me, right?” 

You’re awake. And you’re angry. 

You tramped towards the entrance and knocked back just as hard. 

“FUCK YOU, BITCH! FUCKING — FUCK YOU, ELLIE, YOU FUCKI— “

Heat traveled across your face the second you ripped the door open. 

A woman… a motel employee… with sheets in her hand, visibly stunned. 

You’re going fucking crazy. 

“Uhh… just came to give you new, uh, sheets,” Her voice was high-pitched, clearly uncomfortable. Your eyes flickered with embarrassment, cheeks blazing. 

“S-Sorry…” You allowed the shorter woman entry, and she scurried over to the small nightstand in the corner of your room. 

You picked at your fingers, “Um… sorry if I scared you. It’s been a weird… fuckin’ weird couple of weeks.” 

She didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just silently laid the sheets and pillowcases on the side of your bed. 

“Am I,” You huffed, anxiously rubbing your eyes. “Are you gonna report me or somethin’?” 

Silence. 

Your brows furrowed at the sudden stillness of the woman, her back turned towards you. 

“Hey, you okay?” A cautious step forward. “Look, I’m… I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m fine— “

“Fuck you.” 

You flinched at her venomous tone; voice filled with spite. The fuck?

“… What?” 

“After all this time…” she whispered, the ponytail in the woman’s head shaking in disbelief. 

“You’re still the same… selfish, psychotic fucking bitch I remember you to be.” 

Your knees buckled at the sudden low timbre of her voice. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms at its familiarity. She sounded just like… She’s… It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t be—

The one window you cracked for air earlier slammed shut, the clicks from your door signaling your confinement. You’re trapped.

Your nails sunk into your palms; She’s here. She’s real and she’s fucking here and going to kill you. 

Her laugh filled the room, low and vengeful, and the one lit lamp on the nightstand flickered off. 

Your breaths were shallow and desperate, sheer panic rushing through your body. You took blind, scurried steps towards the door, feeling around for the knob to take your leave, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the wood from the inside, screaming for anyone to come save you. 

Something cold and slimy slinked around your ankles and roughly yanked you to the floor, your hands scrambling to grab onto anything on the hardwood as they pulled you towards her. You caught glimpses of her glowing, red eyes with every panicked look over your shoulder. 

You were pulled up, up, up by your feet until you were dangling upside down, her glowing orbs piercing through yours. You barely made out her manic smile, fangs bright and as sharp as knives. Something sharp pressed against your windpipe, ready to tear your throat out. 

The room she trapped you in disappeared completely, an empty, dark void surrounding her, you. There’s nothing anywhere. 

You hollered as your stomach flipped; She’s going to kill you right here—

“Ellie, please, please don’t! —“

A sharp slice right through your shoulder. You released a pained scream before your vision grew cloudy, body growing limp as you swayed in the air. Your screams quieted, your drowsy mind filling with images of Ellie smiling affectionately at you. 

Ellie… Ellie, please… 

Trees danced with the wind before everything went dark. 

Water erupted from your mouth, your eyes ripping open, fingers tearing into the dirt beneath you. 

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, more water dripping from your hair and clothes, down your bare legs. Pain shot through your shoulder with every move. You reached to touch it and… ouch. Blood coated your fingertips. 

You gazed around. You knew exactly where you were, but it was off. 

You and Ellie’s hideout. The campground is exactly how you remember, but it was darker, murkier, less inviting and cozy. Familiar, yet foreign. 

“Miss me?” 

You jolted, scurrying away from whatever was behind you. 

“Aww, don’t be scared,” Ellie mocked, fake pout pulling at her lips. “C’mooon, it’s just me! Welcome to my humble abode!” 

What the fuck, what the fuck—

The same appendage from earlier wrapped around your leg, yanking you back, and your heart sank. Your eyes were deceiving you; They had to be. 

Ellie, much taller and stronger than you remember, stood over you, pupils pitch black, a devious smile spread across her face, sharp fangs glimmering in the dark. The two horns that swirled atop her head were dark, the protruding veins red and throbbing like they were alive. You saw the sharp edge of her tail glowing behind her head, speckles of red liquid crusting over on the tip. 

Is… Did she cut you with that? 

Your heart squeezed painfully with familiarity; The small spots that dusted her face and the scars that covered her legs from biking accidents were still there. 

“E-Ellie?” 

She posed, arms extended, “In the flesh. Kinda. There’s no… actual flesh for the dead… Well, we technically could have skin, but it wouldn’t be ours.” 

“I’ve been lookin’ for you. You look good,” she muttered, eyes dark as they traveled over you. You suddenly felt exposed. 

Silence passed between the two of you. How was her tone so casual? 

What the fuck is going on… 

She huffed at your silence, “Didn’t think our ten-year anniversary would be this fucking awkward. Can’t even say hi?” 

Her words were hardly registering. 

“Huh.” Her eyes flashed back, and the organ around your leg untangled, retracting into the grass beneath you.

“You’ve… you’ve been looking for me?” 

“Mhmm,” she hummed, carelessly playing with her razor-sharp nails. “You got outta jail, got a place… bought the bakery you always talked about. Congratulations, jailbird! You beat the system… and were able to outrun the devil for some time!” 

She showcased the ashy, decaying scenery like it was a prize. “Here’s your first glimpse into the other side. Is it to your liking? Should I fluff your pending gravestone? Put some roses over it since everyone you love won’t?” 

Other side? “… Am I dead?” 

“Nope! Almost. You have a purpose before I take you out. Finally, am I right?” Sarcasm sharpened her tongue. 

“… You're insane,” your voice was hoarse, shattered. You swore your esophagus was bloody. 

“Me?!” She snickered sickly, eyes darkening, “Remind me what happened between us again? Who hurt who? Who killed who?!” 

“… I— “

You paused. What the fuck do you say to her? I still love you somehow. Please don’t hate me forever. I’m a worthless fuck up—

“None of the above,” she interrupted… your thoughts? “To be frank, I don’t wanna hear shit from you,” she swayed sassily, circling you like a shark, her tail sashaying around.

“… Why’m I here then?” 

She paused, the muscles in her back flexing. Your gut tumbled. 

Ellie turned to face you, lips curling devilishly. 

“Well… ” she trailed off, voice alluring. “It gets lonely down here. I don’t have anybody to call. Nights are so cold.” 

She suddenly dropped to her knees, sensuality practically leaking out of her as she crawled towards you. Your heart was thumping, stomach in knots. 

“I need you… to do exactly what I tell you…” 

Your breaths shuddered the closer she got.

“I’m so fuckin’ hungry… Just sit there and let me take what I want,” Her mumbles were drunk and lustful. “You fucking owe me. I’m trapped here ‘cause of you.” 

She straddled your lap, eyes glued to yours. They flashed red, and an appendage locked around your throat, knocking the wind from your lungs and pulling you flat onto the dirt. You tried to pull against it, but it tightened on your airways. You choked, pain searing in your shoulder, causing you to let up. Another set of slimy appendages clasped around your wrists, followed swiftly by two locking down your ankles. 

The burn from your bleeding shoulder made your nipples harden under your filthy sweatshirt. She chuckled above you. 

“That was quick,” Her brow arched. “Haven’t gotten any? What, no one wants to drill a felon?” She cooed with a pout. 

You shot her a glare. A squeeze on your throat. A clench from your walls. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed in remembrance. “Sorry about that club fiasco. I was gonna fuck you then, but seeing you enjoying yourself got on my nerves, so.” 

She rambled on about how she made a whole plan to ruin your life the second she found you until you were rotting in the grave, but you weren’t listening. Your eyes moved over her lips, down her neck, over her bare chest, blood burning under your skin. Another squeeze from your cunt. Your face burned with every drop of slick that left you. 

“Think I’m cute? The horns doing it for ya?” she interrupted your gawking. 

You averted your gaze. She snorted before her expression went lubricious, eyes glossing over.  

“You smell so good,” she slurred with fluttery lids. 

No, you don’t. You haven’t showered—

“I meant your pussy, you fucking idiot,” her eyes rolled in annoyance. “You’re killin’ my vibe. Shut up.” 

Your eyes widened in shock; Don’t think, don’t think—

“She smelled like that in the club. Just needed some lovin’, hm?” Her hand reached back to pat your pussy over your pajama shorts and you squealed. You’re leaking. 

“Oh, she’s starving— “

Fear and arousal flurried in your tummy, “What’re you gonna do?” 

You could almost see the wires in her head sparking to life. She leaned over you, her cold body pressed against yours, noses almost touching. 

“I’m gonna rip that pussy open until I feel better…” The aura around her was smokey and blinding. “And then…” Her nose bumped against yours, almost affectionately. “I’m gonna rip that fucking throat out. Might hang your body from a tree. I needa decorate.” 

A choked sob left you, thighs rubbing together as tears plummeted down your temples. Ellie shushed you gently, her forked tongue licking over the droplets before they cascaded down into the grass. 

Every swipe of her tongue sent a zap through your face. The sting sent your jolt through your spine, hips bucking into her. A hot, slick line ran up your cheek, grazing your jawline, cat-like spines digging into your clammy skin. 

… Is… Is she really…?

You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up your body, your foot jerking outward at the sensation. The tentacle clenched around your ankles, and you gasped. Ellie was grinding on top of you, whimpering into your neck, marking your skin. 

“E-Ellie, El— “

Another swipe, a thick, sticky trail burning its way into your hairline. Your whines are almost inaudible. Pain is burning up your legs when the organ twisted tighter; You’re shocked your ankle didn’t snap in two. 

She moved faster on top of you, pleasantly sighing into your neck. Your face is fucking sizzling. 

“What the… fuck,” The situation is settling in for you: Ellie’s dead… but, not? And she’s humping you like a dog. You shouldn’t want to watch her, observe the love of your life get off on your fucking stomach, but you — your pussy wants it — needs her. 

You missed her so fucking much. 

Soft chuckles erupted from her, icy breath on your neck. She sat up, rubbing her bare cunt on your tummy. 

“You wanna watch?” 

No, no no please—

Your head shook, mind racing with pleads for her to touch you, but she stared back in disapproval. 

“I think you wanna watch,” She sat up, lifting her knees and resting her freezing hands on your thighs, her pretty pussy on full display, “Missed me that bad?” 

She’s right there, but you can’t move. More tears, more begging from you. 

“Wanna see a trick I learned?” She inquired mischievously. You didn’t have a chance to answer before more vine-like organs emerged from the dirt, eager and throbbing, globs of slick dribbling from their tips.

“When you’re sad and horny, answers will eventually fall in your lap,” She watched the appendages sliver all over her shoulders, her back, down her stomach. Her head flew back, her short flyways waving around her horns. 

“I bet that fucked up head of yours never expected this would happen, huh? Never thought you’d see me like this?” She moaned out as the suctioned limb traveled over her left nipples, her eyes beaming red, scorching through your chest. 

Your walls squeezed down on nothing, desperate groans leaving your throat, underwear clinging to your cunt. You couldn’t close your legs, the members slinked around coming up to suck on your thighs. 

Nasty little cuck, her voice boomed through your skull, Wanna watch me get fucked, right?

Your head bobbed dumbly. The appendages scurried down her body. You watched as the veins in her horns glowed brighter, her eyes shading an even deeper scarlet, her lip catching between her teeth when the suctions came in contact with her clit. 

The slippery members attacked your thighs with strong suctions, the sensitive skin littered with blotchy, dark spots. A wet slither made its way up your body, under your sweatshirt and in between your tits. The tip teased both nipples, your back arching deeper for more friction. The air was muggy and your body was disgustingly sticky; The sensations made your clit jerk. 

You blearily stared up at Ellie, nearly cumming at the sight of her with a thick, throbbing appendage fucking into her pussy, another two attacking her nipples. Her walls were stretched around the dark, pulsing tentacle, her juices filling the open air with sopping squelches. 

Her eyes fluttered open and refocused on you, a dark line of drool dripping from her mouth and landing on your exposed torso. You released a pained shout, your skin burning at the contact. Tension built tight in your core, clit throbbing in your underwear. You’re struggling to breathe, head floating further into the clouds with each whimper from Ellie. She giggled hazily, moans sounding between her condescending snickers. She gathered spit in her mouth and allowed it dribble onto one of your breasts. 

S’hitting it s’good! Fuck, I can’t—

Finally, finally, the tentacles choking your legs unraveled and crawled up, closer to your drenched cunt. Just one touch — you need one touch and you’ll cum. Just one, just one, please, please—

Slut needs t’cum? Beg some fuckin’ more, c’mon, Ellie’s moans and shouts in your head were somehow bringing you closer to that peak you desperately craved. 

“Please, El, please, fuck… me— “

“I’m — oh, fuck, yes— “

Your shorts and underwear were being ripped from around your waist, yanking you in all directions. The friction made your walls constrict tight. The harsh suctions on your clit were instantaneous. Finally, finally, finally—

You and Ellie’s moans melted together, colors floating behind your eyelids. The wet sounds from Ellie’s pussy made your peak build in record time, zoning in on her cries. You’re going to cum so hard. It’s almost there, just a little bit more— 

Ellie’s everywhere. In your head, line of blurry vision, on top of you, about to break and shatter. She's so perfect, shrouded in darkness and gloom and desire.

The tentacle suddenly expanded inside her pussy, stretching it wider, massaging all the spots that made her see white. 

“M’gonna fucking cum, s’gonna make me cum— “

You’re so close, you’re close, you’re close. You wordlessly begged her to cum with you. Her knees trembled while her legs begged to close, but she forced them open. Forced herself to take everything, all of it. The tentacle pulsed sporadically inside her, and she crashed. 

Pleasure was snatched away from you in an instant, the suckles on your clit gone. You cried and sobbed for Ellie to make you cum, but she ignored you, her body wracking in pleasure, heavy globs of black slick dribbling from her cunt, right under your tits. 

She rode it out, bouncing on the large appendage before it shrunk to its original size. It jerked inside her a few more times before leaving her completely, more dark, gooey liquid dripping from her pussy. 

She came down slowly, giddy laughs leaving her swollen lips as her walls rippled from the aftershocks. 

“This is gonna be…” she scooped up some of the substance with her razor-like nails before shoving them into your mouth. 

The peculiar twang coated your tastebuds. She continued. 

“So much fun.” 

You never thought you’d have the chance to kiss Ellie again. 

But you are, and you’re so fucking nervous. 

When you kissed her for the first time, you were confident, impulsive, reckless. Your regret didn’t come until after, but now here you two were, her split tongue messily sliding over yours, your tongue sizzling from the venom coating her mouth. Ellie’s mess seeped into your skin with each jerk of her hips. You’d give anything to touch her. 

Your eyes squeezed shut every time she suckled on your lips, licked up your chin, squeezed her hand over your throat. She’s much more secure this time around; It’s almost enough to get you there. 

Almost. 

You were suddenly yanked back by your hair, head thudding the ground. Ellie seemed deep in thought, eyes distant. 

“You’re a bad kisser.” 

Your lip quivered. Ouch, “S… Sorry…”

“Ellie?” Your throat burned. 

“Yes, dear?”

Her tone made you flinch. Everything you wanted to say left your brain in a cloud of smoke. 

“Am… Am I…?”

“Are youuu…?” She trailed off. Her hand disappeared, lower, before a loud, sticky noise blaring in your head. She sighed happily; Ellie’s touching herself. Right in front of your face. 

Your face is on fire and your shoulders are cramping up. 

“Will… Can I, can I cum?” 

“I don’t know… can you?” She shrugged with a smile. 

Your eyes nearly rolled in annoyance; they would’ve if you weren’t so desperate to be fucked senseless. 

She sat up fully, her wet hand reaching right in between your legs. They nearly clamped shut on her wrist, but more tentacles appeared to hold them open for her. She wasn’t looking at your pussy, but she knew exactly where to touch you. She rubbed her own juices into your clit, a nasty shhlck filling the calm air. 

Tears built in your eyes at the sensitivity, your toes digging into the dirt beneath you. Her thoughtless mumbles were barely registering in your melting brain. Your impending orgasm nearly crashed into you before she stopped. 

Your body tensed and your pleasure dissipated. Sobs left your mouth as you garbled, “E—llie, please, please, no more— “

“Don’t close your legs, I mean it. Take what I give you like a good bitch,” Ellie shimmied down your body, resting in between your legs. The tentacles hooked under your knees and forced them up, holding them right against your chest. You can’t see what Ellie’s doing and she’s silent. 

You wanted to ask what was taking so fucking long—

A loud crack rang through the heavily wooded area, pain searing through your thigh. The stinging sensation brought tears to your eyes, sobbing softly to yourself. 

The sudden flicking against your clit brought tears to your eyes. She’s touching you, finally. Your arms pulled at the veiny tentacles still clamped around your wrist, aches running down to your shoulders at the stiffness. 

Ellie’s fingers were replaced with something much softer, and your body turned to mush. The appendages around your thighs twisted tighter, gripped harder, as the barbs from her tongue caught on your clit. It felt so fucking good; her split muscle moved so quick on your clit; your yelps of her name sound into the crisp air. You’ve been on the verge of cumming this entire time, but you can’t.

Suddenly, her tongue is easing downward, brushing against your perineum. Your hips tried to push down into her muscle, but to no avail. You could feel numbness building in your feet from the restriction. 

Look at this tight little ass, two of her fingers were massaging your other hole, causing you to whimper. 

Yeah? she pressed down harder, Like it right there?

Your head gravely bobbed in approval; you’ve never been touched there, but you crave it now. 

Tiny fucking hole… gotta get you ready, huh?

Her voice is thick and haughty; you’re shivering. 

A glob of spit lands on your ass, the sensitive skin tingling, numbness spreading across the pulsing area. She rubbed it in quickly and gave your hole one last slap. 

Her tongue was back at your cunt; you squealed at the sensation of her tongue slivering past your entrance, walls stretching over her muscle. The soft splinters massaged your walls just right, caressing all the spots inside you and you felt it building — 

Suddenly, her tongue stretched wider, expanded, pressed down on your walls, right on your spot; you were squirting on her tongue seconds later. You couldn’t warn her of your orgasm before you bursted, walls desperately milking her as satisfied shouts escaped your lips, your brain turning to goo. 

“El — mmh! Fuck, yes, rightthere! —“

Sniveled thank yous were pouring from your lips as Ellie fucked into you, your juices coating her face. Bursts of color exploded behind your eyelids. 

You thought you would never come down, but the intensity of your orgasm slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. Your vision was spotty; Ellie slowly pulled out, humming at the squeals that left you. You couldn’t move. 

Suddenly all the tentacles were gone, limbs free and weightlessly plopping onto the ground. Your eyelids fell shut in exhaustion, your heart flooding with longing.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” A light kick on your shoulder. 

Ellie… 

“Get the fuck up. I’m not done,” she snorted coldly. 

Ellie… please…

“What the fuck did I say,” The agitation in her tone rose. 

I’m so sorry… 

“I don’t care,” You were suddenly pushed onto your back, Ellie standing over you, eyes glowing dimly. 

I miss you so much… 

Memories of your past flowed through you, soft sobs shaking your weak form. Ellie deserved… everything good out of life. The purest forms of happiness were destined in her path, and you took it away. You took everything from her, and all you could do was watch what she’s become. What you caused. 

The more you cried, the more disgusted she seemed, eyes growing darker. 

She pounced on you in seconds, nails grasping your bunched sweatshirt and sharp tail tip prepped to end you right then and there, speckles of spit splattering on your face due to her shouts. 

“DON'T!” The dying world around you shook with the bass of her tone. “Don’t you fucking dare!” 

You didn’t fight. You allowed her to berate you, call you every vile name in the book, and digested her wishes of you dying instead of her. Every scream slammed into your chest; you merely laid there, ready to die with love in your chest. 

I love you… I love you… I love you… 

“FUCK YOU, YOU LYING BITCH! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! I’M GONNA KILL YOU— “

Bloody streams fall from Ellie’s eyes, the veins in her head changing from maroon to coal, the veins in her arms darkening as her voice deepened, razorous teeth baring. She sobbed and screamed from above you, wailing how much she hated you. You’re numb. 

The venom from her tail was discharging from the tip. It’s time; it’s your last day alive. You nodded to yourself. You deserve this; You’re ready. You hope your siblings aren’t too saddened by your disappearance. 

Is this the final stage of grief? Your body is lax and accepting, heavy droplets leaving your eyes when they shut. 

I love you… I’m sorry… I love you… 

Another sharp prick went through your shoulder, and darkness enclosed around you. 

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You’re such a dork!

Ellie swears her heart is going to grow legs and crawl up her throat in the next thirty seconds if you keep staring at her like that. She's projecting; She’s the dork!

The few shots she took at the lake were wearing off, and her nerves were finally catching up to her. She was surrounded by your pillows, your stuffies, your scent; she could barely swallow, her throat was so dry. 

You love me. 

She does. Ellie never acted on her swiftly developed crush; she’s not built for rejection, especially from you. The smile on your face was so bright; your joy was so apparent whenever she was around. She hoped her own happiness reflected the same way; Please love me back! Please please please—

Her heart exploded, sewed itself back together, only to explode again when your hand came up, fingertips barely grazing her cheek. She’s going to faint; your touch was so soft. Was she crazy to compare the feel of your hands to rose petals? She tried to keep her nuzzles subtle, pushing her face closer to your hand; Is this how cats feel when they want cuddles? 

You proceeded to explore her face in silent adoration, and she did the same, memorizing every detail she could. The moles on your face were lined like stars. 

She scooted closer to give you more access to her now burning skin, and you kissed her. Ellie was stunned, body stiff; she didn’t have a chance to kiss you back before you pulled away. The scent of alcohol was pouring from you, and Ellie snapped back to reality. 

You’re drunk. You kissed her and you’re drunk. 

You’re probably not going to remember the entire night when you wake the next morning. Ellie’s eyes nervously searched your now downcast face. Say something, you coward! 

But you spoke first. 

You love me, right? 

More than anything, Ellie wanted to scream, not caring if your parents woke up and kicked her out. But she couldn’t. Her brain was moving a million miles a minute, trying to find the words that would satisfy her feelings, but they were too strong. She’s in too deep; Words aren’t enough. 

But you look broken and your body’s tense. She’s putting you on edge and she hates herself for it. 

Do you love me? Your begging tone snapped her out of her head. 

Of course I do, she gasped, mouth gaping like a fish. 

More than anything! More than anything! I love you! 

You only nodded, relaxed back into her, and shut your eyes. 

Ellie went to sleep with a terrible feeling in her stomach, but she held you anyway. 

Ellie’s weight crushed you as she sobbed into your neck, her cries loud and guttural, the sharp puncture of her horn pressing into the plush of your cheek. Her curses grew weak and quiet, mumbles of I fucking hate you cementing into your skin. 

You simply laid beneath her, unmoving and stunned wordless at the memory — the truth that Ellie exposed to you. Her body jerked on yours as she wailed. 

You hardly noticed the fresh tears rolling down your face. You sniffed, “Ellie…”

She sobbed, her head shaking dismissively. 

“Ellie… Look at me…” You couldn’t move. 

“Fuck you,” her choked murmur was hushed. 

A sad smile grew on your face. 

“Almost did…” 

Ellie sniffed harshly against the burnt skin on your neck, almost touching your bloody shoulder, “What.” She mumbled flatly. 

“Y’know… you almost did fuck me.” 

Some silence passed before a wet snort came from below you. Your grin widened. 

Ellie’s shoulders shook slightly as she snickered into your neck, arching hers slightly to look at you. 

“I should kill you for that, you cunt. You’re not funny.” 

Your body jerked with laughter, and you grimaced at the pain in your shoulder. “That's what you get.” Ellie sat up straight, smile slowly dissipating, eyes glossing over. 

The light moment between you shifted, and sorrow weighed you down like bricks. 

“I fucking loved you,” Ellie whispered harshly. “I wanted you to be happy. And you didn’t fucking care.” Anger was radiating off her, but the dread in her eyes was more telling. “You were… everything to me.” 

The wounds in your heart were overflowing; your efforts of repairing your heart were proved pointless, blood and love and suffering filling your chest to the brim. Quiet sobs were shared between the two of you.

“Please k-kiss me,” Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at your hushed proposal. 

“Just one more. You can do whatever you want… just one last time.” 

You sat up slowly, ignoring the deep aches in your side, your trembling hands cautiously raising to cup Ellie’s frosty cheeks. 

Her face is so close; her lips are right there… just one more, just one—

Ellie’s eyes traveled across your face, lust and years of longing flooding in her tears. Her eyes shut and she leaned forward, her cold lips melding against yours. The kiss was gentle, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried, your tears transferring onto her cheeks. 

Ellie’s hushed tone filled your head. 

I wish I hated you. 

You choked a sob, arms wrapping around her hips to pull her closer, her arms enclosing around your neck, the kiss growing hotter. You needed her closer; so much closer. 

Her tongue slid past your mouth, the split muscle messily flicking over yours as her hips bucked down. You heard loud tears of cloth coming from behind you as Ellie shredded your sweatshirt with her claws, discarding the fabric on the dark heaps of grass. 

She sighed into your mouth when you laid her back onto the grass soaking, crawling on top of her. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to reconnect your mouths, her fangs cutting into your bottom lip. She sucked the injured skin, humming at the metallic taste; your hips bucked down harder to meet hers, and she whimpered. 

Her hands were freezing as they slid down your bare sides, claws pressing into your hips. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you kissed down her neck, soft noises of satisfaction erupting from beneath you. You suckled on her throat, tongue sliding down to her jaw and back up again.

“Can I, fuck, let me do something— “

You moaned in approval, thighs shaking at the sound of her voice, coming back up to press your mouth against hers. 

A heavy gasp left you at the feel of slime dripping onto your thigh. Ellie dug her nails into your hips to steady you, and you whined at the sting. You stared down, entranced at her gleaming eyes, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 

“Hold still.” Ellie’s whisper was strangely comforting, your body relaxing into hers. The light suck on your thigh made you squeak, chuckles releasing from the girl beneath you. 

“And you’ve been doing this for how long?” you jokingly snarked, voice shaky. 

“Meh, six years, nothing crazy,” she replied, shrugging sarcastically. “Just don’t move.” 

Ellie’s hand moved lower, pressing at the end of your spine to deepen the arch in your back. She shushed your eager whimpers, slowly easing your hips back until your cunt brushed against the serpent-like organ. You shuddered and attempted to jerk away at the strange sensation, but Ellie held you still, snorting to herself. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips at the feel of its tip swirling at your clit, your head dropping onto Ellie’s shoulder. It took mere seconds for the suction to attack your sensitive clit, pleasured moans huffing from your mouth. Ellie’s mouth was right by your ear, her chilled breaths sending shockwaves down your spine. Your clit throbbed under the pressure: how were you already on the verge of cumming? 

“Feels g-good? Yeah?” 

Your walls were squeezing down harshly, desperate to hug and milk something hot through your orgasm. It takes all your strength to lift your head and kiss Ellie, but she does all the work; licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with every slice of her fang. Every pass of her tongue is a pull in your gut, your clit pulsating with vigor. 

She pulled back, just barely, to whisper how excited she is to fuck you, to turn your pussy out, to make you cry.  Your moans were loud and eager, your head bobbing dumbly in compliance with anything she wanted. You’d give her everything you could in this moment. 

Ellie’s in your head, in your senses, in between your thighs, and you’re losing it. She’s reaching at you, tugging at your body in any way she could: scratching at your tits, pulling your hair, clawing into your skin with intent to scar. You’re sure your back is bloody. Her touch is painful; why does it feel so good? 

Your thoughtless head drops yet again as your orgasm is forced out of you, your walls choking the hot air surrounding the two of you. Your wails are muffled along with Ellie’s spat praises, your hips bucking back for more. The pleasure is almost too much and you’ve barely started; She hasn’t even fucked you yet. 

Your juices are pooling out of you, knowingly making a puddle on Ellie’s tummy, her affirmed moans pulling more and more out of you. Your peak is unrelenting, draining every last bit of energy your body has left. Your limbs gave out, your weight crashing on top of Ellie’s. 

She hastily maneuvered you onto your back, the spines of grass puncturing your skin from beneath you as she climbed on top. 

“Your stamina’s fucked.” 

Her winded snide remarks didn’t bother you; you need her to fuck you. You’re sweaty and desperate to feel her everywhere. She wasted no time, reuniting your mouths in an eager kiss as her hands ventured anywhere they could. Your body’s aching, but for some reason, you crave more. More hurt, more pain; You need her to use you. 

The world around you moved like water; unlike your first dream, the waves brought comfort. Ellie’s touch felt like the ocean washing you away, all with effort to finally bring you peace. 

But it didn’t work. You love her; You deserve pain, and you love her. 

Her mouth is on your tits, biting and sucking at your nipples. It feels so good to have her this close; your body’s wet and ready for her to ravish you. 

Ellie scurried down your body, sat on her knees in between your legs, her hands pressed under yours to hold them up. Your thighs are resting on your chest as Ellie dribbles a line of slobber over your soaking lips. Hums fill the space between you as it slides down, right over your entrance. 

Seconds pass as Ellie stares at your cunt; You call out to her by mistake. 

“What.” 

Fuck. “No-nothing. Sorry.”

“You want something. Say it.” 

You shake your head, and she smiles. Raunchy imagery of her fucking your pussy flash across your mind in an instant, and her grin widens. 

You jolt at the sudden slap on your cunt before Ellie presses your legs even higher, knees almost next to your head. You ignore the aching stretch in your limbs and reach to grab your ass cheeks, holding them open for her. Heat spreads across your face when she moans at the sight. 

Oh fuck, Ellie’s whimpering to herself; whining about how good your pussy’s going to feel, how you’re going to swallow her whole, choke her out. Juices are oozing from your cunt with each jerk of your walls. 

A tentacle emerges from the ground, and Ellie’s expression darkens. It’s lecherous; the way she eyes your pussy as the organ slivers closer to your entrance. You couldn’t hold your moans in anticipation of the stretch. It’s right there, swelling and twitching. 

Your head falls back against the sopping grass when your hole grasps the wide, leaking tip, eyes rolling into your head as Ellie’s moans ring deep in your skull. The tentacle is practically melting between your walls as they spasm. 

Ellie’s so loud above you, completely hunched over your form as her body shudders, her lip trapped between her sharp teeth. They must’ve pierced the skin, a thin trail of black liquid dripping all the way down her neck. 

You take it so fuckin’ good, Ellie’s slurring, tongue swelled in her mouth. You’re already peaking, your legs attempting to slam shut at the tight hug of your walls. The organ is suddenly swelling, walls stretching around the girth to trap it as deep as it can go. Tears are running down your face, groans of Ellie’s name melding with your harsh breaths. 

Seconds pass, and the tentacle’s shooting inside, and your head goes blank, your orgasm slamming into you. You're silent as it wrings your body. The intensity is almost painful, like it’s being forced from your body and your cunt’s drained dry: it’s hot inside you where the fluid pools, and your walls are sucking it deeper. 

You didn’t register Ellie falling forward, her body convulsing on yours, screams of how good your cunt is leaving her in a flurry. Her words are gritted and deep and her nails are in your bicep, but the pain only makes you cum harder. 

It’s been minutes, and you’re deadweight, walls twitching around the still jerking organ planted deep inside your guts. No time to recover, though; Ellie’s pulling out, a nasty sound echoing at her departure as cum seeps — drenches the grass under you. It’s never-ending and sticky and you need more. 

Ellie’s already up and moving you onto your stomach, your cheek pressed against the dirt. She’s hasty, spitting on your cunt with a fiery just a dumb slut, huh? You nod, squeezing your walls to push more cum out. There are heavy suctions on your back, forcing blood to the surface at the curve of your spine. Followed by a sharp stabbing on your ass cheek. 

Ellie’s mouth is on your supple skin, and the blood in your ass rushes to the surface. Her fangs are locked into you as she empties the veins in your ass. 

You couldn’t even scream, eyes squeezing shut at the searing pain as your walls release more cum. Ellie hums: another bite. More blood’s leaving you, being sucked from your ass, your thighs, the end of your spine, but it’s not enough. You need more. Ellie’s draining you but it’s not nearly enough. 

Another tentacle presses in once more, and your vision’s blurring; there’s another tentacle sucking at your ass, your eyes crossing at the stimulation of both your holes. Ellie’s nails are breaking the skin of your back, dribbles of blood sliding down your sides and into the dirt. You love her and you love it; everything feels so warm and full and good. 

Ellie’s chides are making you wetter; your thighs won’t stop shaking, she sounds so sexy. Every shockwave in your brain is memorizing every word, every syllable. She's babbling about how she might spare, keep you trapped here forever so she can drain your blood through your pussy, suck you dry, and it gets you there again. 

Ellie — m’cu—cumming!

You don’t know what you’re saying; voice muffled against the dirt, tears and snot running down your face while you squeal like a pig. Ellie’s calling you one as you squirt on her, just a dumb, worthless pocketpussy; The smile on your face is stupid as your walls drain her while she throbs inside you. You’re so stuffed with her cum already, but you need more inside you. You feel so fucking good and the pleasure won’t seize. 

It picks up again as the thrusts get faster, hitting you deeper, just where you need it. You don’t get to recover before you’re slung into another mind-numbing orgasm, your body wracking without rest. Ellie’s massaging every spot that makes your spine break, dirt collecting under your nails as they puncture the ground. Your groans are cracking in your throat; You can’t even swallow. 

The tentacle’s swelling again, and Ellie’s hand is on the back of your head, pressing your cheek against the grass, nails scratching at your scalp as you beg for her cum. Her moans are picking up again, demanding that you beg some more, that you fucking cry for it, be a good girl a bleed for me. And you do. 

As messily as you can; slobber pooling at your mouth as you sob and choke for her cum, eyes crossed in your skull as your tongue lolls, and Ellie’s shooting in you again, stuffing you to the brim as she cries your name from behind, grunts leaving her with each rope of cum seeps in your womb. 

Your pussy’s melting around her when the sucking at your ass pauses, only to push in the incredibly tight space, to stretch your virgin hole open around its girth. It should hurt, having both holes filled to such a wild degree, but it doesn’t. Your weak arm is reaching behind, desperately grabbing at Ellie. You expect her to smack you away, to hit you, to slice your hand clean off your wrist, but she doesn’t; You almost miss the light touch, her pinky lacing with yours. 

You’re joyous, head dropping as you sob from pleasure and happiness, heart filled with a love that you never thought you’d feel again. 

She’s drilling your ass, fucking you so hard and good as she holds your smallest finger with hers, kissing down your bloody back, licking up the scarlet that leaks from your skin. Suddenly, another tentacle — much smaller than the ones tearing your holes up — emerges from the ground, right in front of your face, its juices leaking onto your cheeks. 

It wiggles in front of your open mouth before shoving in; the taste is salty and metallic, but your lips work it, sucking and licking all around the length. You feel so filthy and it’s making your tummy tug, another orgasm building in your pussy and ass. It’s going to shatter you completely from its strength, you can feel it. 

Your body’s aching for more cum; you’re surprised it’s not coming spilling from your throat and onto the appendage in your mouth. But Ellie’s close, every whisper becoming more frantic as she rides that edge. 

You’re mine, she whispers in your ear, Fucking mine, you understand? You’re not going anywhere. 

You get it, you get it! You’re never leaving her again. Fuck everything you’ve built for yourself! Your life is pointless without Ellie next to you. You’re going to cum so hard for her. 

Your body’s hers; Your heart is hers; your soul is hers. You love her, you love her! 

Baby likes that? I own this fucking pussy? 

She knows she does: whispers so gross and conniving and you’re twitching under her. You’re babbling around the swelling appendage, telling her — screaming that you belong to her, you always have. You always will! 

You feel her teeth as she grins madly in satisfaction, sloppily mumbling mine mine s’ my pussy against your skin as she swells inside you. You’re stretching, gaping around her and you snap, head planting into the dirt. Both sets of walls clamp down sporadically around the large digits between them, the tentacle slipping from your mouth as you scream. 

Ellie’s exploding inside both holes, the tentacle above you spraying all over your face, heavy globs of cum landing in your hair, the back of your neck, splattering on your mouth, anywhere it could reach. Juices are spraying from between you, and Ellie falls forward, her freezing chest on your back as she jerks on top of you. Hearing her just as destroyed from the pleasure sends another surge of euphoria through you, somehow stronger than the first. 

You can barely take it, but Ellie makes you, continues flooding your holes until they’re overflowing and sticky. You’re both sent to another plane as you convulse together, her pinky still locked with yours as you lose consciousness. 

When you wake, there’s warmth. 

You’re still filled to the brim with cum, but your form is blanketed. Small, tired huffs hit your back as Ellie shivers on top of you, barely audible noises alerting her satisfaction. You smile. 

You can't move; all your strength is used to wiggle the cramped muscle of your interlocked finger. Tears well in your eyes when Ellie’s finger hugs yours tighter with every small movement. 

Ellie’s the blanket; Ellie’s warm. 

Suddenly, everything around you is pink, the formerly empty spaces in your heart filled with affection. You missed Ellie so much; You’re finally reunited, and in love. You can’t stop smiling, and neither can she. 

—

—

—

‘BREAKING NEWS: BAKERY OWNER FOUND DECAPITATED IN MOTEL BED’

Today marks one of the most heart-wrenching, horrifying days that our community has ever seen, the local reporter stated. We have never witnessed a case end this disastrous. 

To the loved ones of this individual, we share our deepest condolences. The victim made such a large impact on our tiny town with her small business. Nobody… the reporter sighed, Nobody could’ve seen this coming. 

Please be on the lookout for any updates regarding the suspect. Investigators are putting as much effort into this case as they can. Police suggest staying indoors with your loved ones this holiday until further instructions. 

May God be with her family. Have a blessed night. 

idk how to use picsart sorry yall LOL

taggiesss ily thank u 4 being patient :D :

@digit4lslut @hrtmal @sawaagyapong @starologist @shurisbigtoe @iamtootiredtopost @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @slutty4abby @chrry1ovr @moonchild184 @womenofarcane @ohlawdthebirds @ellabsprincess @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @dropsofs4turn @masclover111 @dyk3ang3l @zzzlove @jayy2inlovee @aandersonsbackpack @jade-posts-sometimes @elspeanut @elsbunny222 @alittlextrahoney @ultraviolenceellie @shamelessparty @0verthebluemoon @yuckyfucky

[lacydollette]

pov: you’re jensen ackles’ controversially younger gf ! pt. 3

jensenackles 6min

youruser

Liked by madelyncline and others

youruser officially too old for dicaprio 😶

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yourbestiesuser shits been way too freaky 🫦

youruser my heads’ still spinning 😵‍💫

ange1bites THE CAPTION IS TOO ICONIC

ellasbows the way I just realized.. 😭

fory/n HOLD UP- IS THAT MADELYN CLINE??

obxpiczz yup they’ve been friends for like 2 years now

jacklesfan1 his hand placement?? hello??

cvntyblogz I think my invite got lost in the mail 😔

madelyncline bday girl swag 🫡🫡

youruser u know the drill mads

clinestar literally all my faves in one room wtf

fordestiel still can���t believe we’re the same age 😭😭

tatemcrae happy bday it girl ❤️‍🔥

youruser coming from the it girly herself 🫂 ty love, imy!

popgirlyblog tate 🤝🏼 y/n

jensenackles

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jensenackles Happy birthday to my girl, my partner in crime and the best pool player I know. Beyond blessed that I get to spend this one life with you. I love you ❤️ @/youruser

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jacklesfan1 stop.. his little paragraph 🥹🥹

forjackles she is so so lucky

youruser damn right I am 👀

destiellcver her concentrated face is killing me lmao

youruser at a loss for words. You made this day so special. I love you hubs ❤️

girlwithablog you can just tell how much he loves her

jaredpadalecki today we celebrate the amazing y/n. to many more “I’m gonna have a bf” moments with you 🫂 @/youruser

gibson-g1rl wait- did jared just quote ‘white chicks’ 😭😭

youruser duh 🙄 its our fav movie! and i love u @/jaredpadalecki

vampdecn what’s bf? boyfriend?

youruser BITCH FIT

jaredpadalecki bitch fit

ellawinchester did she finally turn 18 or what??

jensenandy/nfan bruh, she is literally a grown ass 26 year old woman, get ur shit together

casmybeloved my favorite couple

girlblogzz hbd y/n ⭐️

youruser thank u !!

youruser

Liked by jensenackles and others

youruser if I left u on read, here’s why 🌺

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y/nlcver bodTEA !!

elliescam my jaw literally dropped at the 7th picture

forjackles literally my dream vacay w/jensen

yourbestiesuser glad you’re having fun <3 now come back to texas mama, the kids miss u 😩

youruser just say u miss me so bad 👀

girlwithablog god, i wish i was y/n

fionabae does she even work?

mygirly/n she was literally paul wesleys manager for a few years and is now working as production assistant for mgm studios !!

ortegafan02 omg this is how i find out? 😭

fionabae cmon she only got that job bc of jensen

popgirlies her life is like a pinterest board

casmybeloved they are adorbs 🥹

jensenackles

Liked by jaredpadalecki and others

jensenackles bon voyage or something like that ���

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jacklesfan1 finest man ever ong

y/n_defender seeing y/n through his eyes is so cute!!

winchesterstan try not to say daddy (impossible)

h3llgirl1 ik his girl just hates these comments 😭😭

beausling nah she’s hella secure and too busy for this bs

youruser liked this comment

sevens1ns look at them go 🥹

urfavwinchester they’re still dating??

jackles4life why wouldn’t they? 🤨

urfavwinchester maybe he finally got tired of her

gibson-g1rl bro 😭 get out of here

2jstan can’t believe she is having that man every day

acklesbaby geeeeez jensen 😩

as requested, another part of the jensen sm au 🎀 pt. 1 pt.2

i think I’ll never stop making these, it’s so fun!

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @lailawinchesterr @nuemanfilms @alluvthegurlz @drewsarms @starkeysprincess @hischrrypie @sammyluvr

[l4nd0n0rr1s]

the chapter of charles | CL16

SUMMARY: in which charles leclerc falls in love with y/n the booktuber PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!booktuber!reader AUTHOR'S NOTE: time for a little charles moment! LINKS: add yourself to my taglist here! REQUESTS ARE OPEN

yourinstagram

liked by y/n'sbookmark, fan385, charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend and 3,649 others

my next video is due to be posted tomorrow! swipe to the end to see a sneak peek of the books i've been reading to prepare myself to have this video's guest on 😉

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yourbestfriend hands down my favourite upload of the year

fan452 THEY'RE TO DO WITH F1? OHHHH SHIT

y/n'sbookmark my two worlds of f1 and y/n colliding oh my god

norrispapaya do u guys see charles in the likes????!!!

yourusername

tagged: charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, fan523, scuderiaferrari, norrisbabe and 39,424 others

a few of you managed to guess them, but this week i have formula 1 driver charles leclerc on the channel! i hope i've converted him into a bookworm ;) find the video link down below!

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charles_leclerc thank you for having me! it was a pleasure, who knew reading was actually fun!

⤷ yourusername reading has always been fun charlie.

⤷ lightleclerc THE NICKNAME?? OH THIS IS SERIOUS

norrisbabe they'd be a power couple, that's all i'm saying

CL16.updates

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

liked by user284, charlesmybae, lightleclerc, yourusername and 394,432 others

After his impressive win in Monza, Charles is seen blushing and getting shy after being asked about the YouTube video he appeared in with @yourusername

Leclerc was quoted saying "She's given me the reading bug, if I'm not driving then I'm reading, that's what gir- I mean friends do to you!"

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leclercbabe DID YOU GUYS HEAR THE LITTLE SLIP UP HE DID?

⤷ charlesmybae HE WAS 100% GOING TO SAY GIRLFRIEND ARE U KIDDING ME

fan434 he was so flustered bless him :(

yourusername

liked by: fan394, leclercbabe, yourusernamefan, charles_leclerc and 43,172 others

being a booktuber and having to travel is the worst. how am i meant to choose what books to take??

view all 32,914 comments

fan394 TRAVELLING? TO WHERE?

⤷ leclercbabe IT WOULDN'T BE THE MONACO GP BY ANY CHANCE WOULD IT Y/N?

charles_leclerc just let me buy you a kindle and take that

⤷ yourusername how d a r e you even suggest i use that monstrosity of an invention. physical books for life.

⤷ lightleclerc HE'S OFFERING TO BUY HER A KINDLE????? OH HES SO WHIPPED

charles_leclerc

liked by: scuderiaferrari, yourusername, carlossainz, fan395, lightleclerc and 652,513 others

C'est pour cela que je suis fier d'être monégasque. Avec un merci spécial à mon porte-bonheur. Forza Ferrari Siempre

carlossainz Proud of you!

leclerc_pascale Les mots ne peuvent pas décrire à quel point je suis fier de toi

fan395 PORTE-BONHEUR? LUCKY CHARM???? WHO OR WHAT IS THE LUCKY CHARM

yourusername

liked by: yourusernamefan, fan495, charles_leclerc and 395,239 others

feeling lucky 🏎️

fan395 Y/N??? ARE U THE PORTE-BONHEUR?

charles_leclerc better than the book?

⤷ yourusername hmm.. debatable

any and all feedback is highly appreciated!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

add yourself to my taglist here

love lauren x

if your tag is not underlined, it means you have sent me the wrong username. please resend it!

TAGLIST: @dr3ln4ml @itscrzy @nichmeddar @chonkybonky @raizelchrysanderoctavius @panicsinvirgo @randombugg @ctrlyomomma @tbsloneely @lichterfee @mochimommy2002 @landosgirlxoxo @celesteblack08 @mickslover @d3kstar @nichmeddar @laur20a23 @ssprayberrythings @simsimpgoodoldsimp @iloveyou3000morgan @ateezseoenghwanot @cherry-piee @darleneslane @parislovesf1 @awhbigail @Nelly-belly @x-bubblegum-x @multixedmund @bunniparadise @flannelforthetoads @Kapsylia @isabellem2909 @riverxsq @zjpg @cixrosie @deephideoutmilkshade @samaibx @slutforsleeping @joyfullymulti @eviethetheatrefreak @jensonsonlybutton @illicitverstappen @andiehanson @hopelxssromxntic @celestialams @laiba26 @evie-119 @Yourrrrpurrrrfecf @cyberbl4de @theonlyadrienne @gh1239 @GWginnyweasley @noncannonships @ilahatesyou @Lan4Cha16stanley @ironmaiden1313 @caseket @scenesofobx @fangirl125reader @morenofilm @lilyalbon @kave18 @Enewi @Lan4Cha16stanley @deephideoutmilkshake

[myers-meadow]

Chance meetings: Tommy Shelby x reader

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader.

Summary: As you attend a wedding of the family, you meet an interesting man. He keeps popping up in your life. Maybe there's something there, something between you? AKA You share a kiss in the stables. This is firmly set in season 1.

Part two here.

Warnings: none. Safe for work.

Word count: over 2k

This is my first time writing for Tommy and the Peaky Blinders! English is not my native language, I hope I did ok! Feedback, comments and reblogs are very welcome <3. Dividers by @saradika-graphics (thank u for all u do for fandom <3)

You may not have known who John Shelby was, but when you were invited for the wedding through your best friend, you didn't hesitate to go. A wedding was a wedding, after all, and you loved them. The getting pretty, the dress, the vows, the ceremony of the mingling blood, the food, the dancing... Oh, the dancing!

You were more jaded than your sisters by far, as you were the oldest, and still unwed in your twenties, but that didn't deter you from the topic of love. When you saw the looks the couple gave each other during the ceremony, and the tension in the air was tight-strung, it was easy to deduce this wasn't a marriage of love. But it could be, you told yourself. There is all the time in the world for love to blossom. Weddings were so beautiful, and you watched as the ceremony turned into the party. Helping the other women with serving drinks and food, the time flew by.

"I just love weddings," sighed one of the Shelby's to you, a young woman, as you handed her a drink.

"Me too," you responded, politely, not expecting further conversation. The way she looked at you made you halt.

"Are you married? I see no ring." Before you could answer, she downed the drink in one go, and continued. "I am. We got married in secret. He said I looked like an angel..."

"He's lucky to have you, in secret or not," you responded.

A worried frown crossed her face. "My brothers hate him. Or; they'd rather have him not be part of the family."

"Why is that?"

She shook her head, refilled her own glass and took a good drink. "And now they're marrying John off to solve some political dispute I'm sure. They never tell us women anything, do they?"

She needed to vent, you let her speak.

"I wore the most beautiful dress... Matching white lacquered shoes... It was-" She interrupted herself to finish her drink.

As she went for the bottle, you stopped her. "Love, not so quick. Maybe have a dance, first. If your love ain't here, there's a dozen handsome men willing to stand in, I'm sure."

Her eyes turned fierce as you held onto the bottle, not handing it over to her. "You can't refuse me. Do you know who I am? I'm a Shelby."

A man stepped closer, hands in his pockets. "I thought you were a Thorne, now."

That was how you met Thomas Shelby.

Just like Ada, her brother Thomas was used to getting what he wanted. A little later on in the evening, the sun had set, you topped off his glass. He stopped you from moving on to the next empty glass, with the flick of his fingers, gesturing to the empty seat next to him. The smoke from his cigarette curled upwards, to the bare night sky.

"Sit. Join me." His words were spoken softly, but with an authoritative edge that made you do as he said, more curious than anything.

"Mr. Shelby, right?" you asked, with an eyebrow raised.

He set his glass down on the table, took the bottle of whiskey from him, plucked an empty glass from the table, and poured it neatly half full. He handed it to you. The drink was cold against your palm. "A toast. To the newlyweds." He didn't even really smile, but you clinked your glass against his and took a sip.

"To the newlyweds, may their union be one blessed with joy and laughter."

Thomas brought the cigarette to his lips, and the two of you simply sat, staring at the other. It felt like he noticed a great deal about you, from the way you wore your hair, how you fidgeted with your lace cardigan, to how you suppressed your wince at the sharpness of the drink. He was breathtaking in the flickering light of the campfire nearby, it danced over his face, highlighting the sharpness of his features. Yet his lips were plump, and you tore your eyes away before you could get any ideas.

"Cigarette?" he asked, already finding the case in his jacket pocket. He lit your cigarette for you like a gentleman and the drag you took was perhaps the first time you breathed properly in his company. "You're not a Lee I know. Are you a friend of the family? Recently married into it?"

"A friend, as of yet unmarried," you say, eyes dancing over his handsome face. Laughter sounds as the music takes a more upbeat turn. "If I'm no longer doing the whiskey rounds, I'd like to dance. It's a wedding after all. Will you join me, Mr. Shelby?"

He laughed softly, rubbing his face with his free hand. "Well, why don't we, hm?" And he stood up to follow after you.

You hadn't expected to see Thomas again, not at all. It felt like a magical night, one of few in your life. One you had to make count, somehow. That's why you dared press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before making off to your wagon at the edge of the Lees territory. Yet you did, as you followed your brother into an unsuspecting pub in Birmingham. It was by a street with factories, and workers did their work. It smelt of burnt coal and ashes.

The pub was a welcome change in temperature, as it was cold outside. Your brother, Edwin, was here on some business or the other, and you came with him purely to have a change of scenery. Or rather, that is what you'd tell anyone who asked. Rather, as the oldest, you felt you needed to keep an eye on him, to make sure he didn't get in any trouble he couldn't handle. He was rather prone to that after dad died, but it was no matter to consider, as the two of you entered the pub. It smelled of smoke, stale drink, and of wood varnish. It was after dinner, so the pub was gradually filling up with patrons, their chatter a comforting sound.

"Thank you for coming. In here," said the man you were meeting, Arthur, and he lead you to a room to the side, shutting the door behind you. Another younger man was already seated, a toothpick pressed between his lips. Another man stood to the side, leaning against the wall, and you startled as recognition hit you.

"Mr. Shelby," you greeted, nodding. "Pleasure to run into you again."

Edwin sent you a look, one that meant 'we will discuss this later', so you immediately straightened your attitude to betray no memory of that night. Thomas sent you a fond nod, and you quickly averted your eyes to avoid staring. Yet your heart leapt in your chest - what a chance to see the intruiging man from the wedding again!

"Have a seat," Arthur said, as he sat down himself. Edwin and you took a booth seat. You nodded politely to the younger one. A barmaid, blonde, came in and set down glasses in front of each of you, and left a bottle on the table. Arthur rubbed his hands. "Let's talk business, then. About those prize horses..."

Their talk and their deal went well, but you found your mind wandering off, your gaze drawn by Thomas' chiselled features. He looked harsher today, in this light, more serious. Perhaps he was softened by the wedding, by being off the clock, last time. Yet, the weight of his gaze bore down on you as the meeting went on.

When the hands were shaken, and the deal was made, his smooth voice shook you from your thoughts.

"Let me get you a drink," he mumbled, too low for your brother who was still talking with Arthur, to hear. He lead you to the bar, where a barman with a white tea towel over his shoulder was wiping glasses clean. The young women from before tended tables. "Whiskey?"

At this point, you'd agree to anything, so you nod. He ordered for you, and he clinked his glass against yours much like that first time.

"What are we toasting to?" you asked.

He looked around, leading you to a quieter corner of the pub with a hand on the small of your back, half a smile tugging at his lips. "Those beautiful racing horses you're selling to us."

"Family business," you grimace as the whiskey burns its way down your throat. Tommy nodded, deft fingers finding the cigarette case in his jacket pocket, he offered you one, before pressing one between his own lips. The flame from the match sizzles as he struck it, and you inhale sharply.

"So, this is Birmingham." you concluded, a bit of a tease. "The factories seem busy, is it like that every day?"

He nodded, regarding you with the patience of a large cat. "Every day. I like the noise, keeps the mind silent. And you, what do you do? Sell horses?"

"I take care of the horses. Edwin sells them." You fiddled with the cigarette, tapping off the ashes. "Sometimes he lets me come along to vet if the people will take good care of them. Just based on feeling, though. I'll only see the stables when we bring them over."

Tommy put the matchbox back in his pocket, leaning forward. "You wanna see the stables? Come on, I'll show you."

In hindsight, you weren't sure what made you follow him unquestioningly - out of the pub, with as little as a wave to Edwin. Your brother grabbed your arm.

"Where d'you think you're headed, girl?"

Tommy answered for you. "I'm showing 'er the horses, so she can rest easy knowing we take good care of 'em."

A short silence fell, the authoritative stare Tommy gave Edwin hung like tension in the air. It felt like he was challenging him, and Edwin didn't protest again when Tommy led you out of the pub.

It was a bit of a walk, and Tommy kept a steady pace. You two chatted idly, about the city, about growing up Roma, about how John and his new wife were doing. Then, you arrived just outside the city, where the stables were, right next to the train tracks.

"Do the trains not startle the horses?" you question, as you look around the place. It all seemed pretty good. The smell of hay and of horse hits your nose, a familiar and comforting smell. Stepping inside of the stables, a large black horse (a Frisian?) greeted the pair of you. "What a beauty," you say breathlessly.

"Trains're only in twice a day. Horses get used to it fast. They're smart beasts." He reached out to pet the nose of the animal. "This one is Monaghan Boy. Quite the race winner."

He seemed proud and something swelled in your chest. "He's so big."

"Wanna ride him?" 

You shook your head. "Not today," you laughed, and he smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m not winning any races today,” you joke. As you reached out your hand to let the horse smell you, another man entered the barn.

"Tommy, what are you doin' out here?" He said gruffly, before he noticed you. His voice softened. "Oh, and a young lady, hello."

"Uncle Charlie," Tommy said, jovially, "This is y/n, her and her brother are selling us some horses. She wanted to make sure they'll be well taken care off. Y/n, this is the man who takes care of the horses for us."

Charlie smiled. His face was drawn by years of hard work in the open air, and perhaps by war, you thought as you shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Charlie. I look forward to a good partnership from now on."

"Then I'll leave you two it," he said, with another look between the two of you. Monaghan Boy neighed in agreement. He left, leaving the two of you alone again.

"What are you thinking? Up to your standards?" Tommy asked, teasing undertone resting in his deep voice. He walks closer, until he's next to you, next to the big beast. His cologne smells delightful.

You nodded. "Better than I expected, especially for the city. I mean, look at this one," you say full of awe, as Monoghan Boy allows you to slide your hand over his mane. Thomas mimicked your movement, letting his hand rest on yours, intertwining your fingers. 

You turned to him, finding him caging you in against Monaghan Boy's flank.

"Perhaps there's something else you'd rather do than ride a horse, out here?" he whispered, just before his lips touch yours.

“I can think of a thing or two,” and you wrap your arms around his neck.

[sixosix]

5k event request :P

Kazuha, light stick, and fluff please

a/n hi anon! when i saw light stick, i instantly interpreted it as those kpop light sticks,, im not sure if u meant something else like those glow sticks, so i am hoping this was what u meant HAHA

wc 700, idol!kazuha/fan!reader, im sure u guys have heard of the 6REEZE group somewhere, meet-cute; disclaimer i only know how auction works from my classmates roleplaying them so ignore accuracies for fic’s sake. bless.

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

Kazuha, to be frank, felt a little embarrassed.

His features stood out too much, his friends told him. To go out and enjoy the fresh air of the day, he had to not enjoy the fresh air with a face mask, conceal his red streak of hair by clipping it back and burying it under a cap, and wear green-tinted sunglasses (also to disguise the red of his eyes) that he was struggling to get used to.

In his defense, His friends weren’t any better. Aether’s braid could be recognized with only that, Venti’s glowing braids weren’t any better, Heizou’s shade of hair and green eyes would stand out—if not his unique voice, and everyone knew Xiao even if he were to shave all his hair off. Scaramouche could be salvageable, but one word from his mouth and his fans would fall to their knees—it could be his voice, but it would be the attitude.

Kazuha felt a little too hot with his disguise, but he wanted this, so he would go through with it. He tugged his mask under his nose, relaxing at the scent of the open air. The mall had an open area with trees all over; the leaves fell to the ground, and the wind brushed past. Kazuha couldn’t feel it, having been stuffed under layers, but he was satisfied.

Although it felt embarrassing to be clothed in this disguise, he couldn’t go outside this freely before. He was going to make the most of it.

And then he passed by a stall that had him doing a double take. Kazuha took a few steps back, lighting up with recognition. He couldn’t be mistaken, not with that familiar symbol of Anemo. The stall displayed a light stick of their group, released only a few days ago.

His friends would have a blast if he came back with it, most likely, Kazuha mused. Maybe he could bring it back as a gift.

A hand shot out from the side, blocking his view of the light stick. Kazuha blinked, a little surprised. He followed the arm's stretch and came face-to-face with an angry stranger.

“Hey, you!” you said. Kazuha felt like he needed to stand straighter at the tone. “I had my eye on this one first, ‘kay? Whatever number you have in mind—keep it. I finally get my hands on one of these; I’m not letting it go!”

“Oh, this was an auction?” he asked curiously. The stall didn’t seem to be being run by anyone at the moment, and no one else was there.

“Well, no,” you sniffed, “but I would win. I already told the seller I called dibs on this one—wait until she gets back.”

Charmed, Kazuha smiled. “Two thousand.”

“Three.”

“Three-thousand, five hundred?”

“Five-thousand, three hundred.”

Kazuha had to wonder: “How much do these usually cost?”

“Five thousand, if you’re lucky. I’ll make it ten thousand, easy. Are you still not backing down?”

Kazuha laughed under his breath. Were you serious? Were you actually willing to drop that much for this? “Alright, I cede. I apologize for attempting to defeat you.”

You grinned, eyes sparkling quite literally as your gaze slid back to the lightstick. You were very pretty. “Yeah, I thought so.” You eyed him curiously; Kazuha suddenly felt a little shy. “Are you a fan as well?”

Kazuha nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from your genuine smile for a few moments. His eyes drifted down to your shirt, which had the same Vision of the lightstick—but there was something else. “You could say that.”

Your shirt had maple leaves swirling around the logo, and Kazuha could recognize it all too well because he was asked to sit down and draw it for their merchandise—something personal for each member. Did Kazuha have the right to suspect what it meant that you were wearing his?

Emboldened, Kazuha gestured at the lightstick. “As a fellow enthusiast, may I extend my offer to cover this purchase?”

You blinked and stuttered. “W-What— You don’t have to! I literally stole it from you!”

“So you confess that you pried it off of me?” Kazuha teased.

“That’s not—Listen—” You stared at him, then got flustered. “Hold on, are you hitting on me?”

“Yes.” He took off his sunglasses and tugged down his mask, flashing a sweet smile that he knew was utterly unfair. Your face bluescreened out of pure shock. Without the mask muffling his voice, it was clear as day. “So, will you let me?”

[stylespresleyhearted]

POV: AUSTIN BUTLER IS IN LOVE

(AND DOESN’T CARE WHO KNOWS IT)

masterlist here x

liked by fan21, user13, and 937 others

enews Love is in the air! Austin Butler and his girlfriend shared the sweetest reunion outside the airport 😭 more photos at the link in bio

view all comments

fan34 omg i am so freaking jealous

user12 GOD HAS FAVORITES AND IT AINT ME

butlerfan It feels so good to see him be publicly in love and not hide it anymore

liked by florencepugh, tomhardy, and 15933 others

austinbutler Happy day 🎂❤️

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fan13 LMAO THE OFFICE MEME RETURNS

tchalamet happy birthday gee! @yourinstagram

zendaya 27 has never looked better queen 💕

ashleytisdale I’m telling Jupiter LOL! Happiest birthday to you @yourinstagram you are a blessing in our lives 🥰🥰

ashleybee HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY 💘💘💘

liked by keoghan92, zendaya, and 97188 others

yourinstagram 💋 smooches for @austinbutler

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glenpowell Austin Butler is one lucky lucky man

fan13 not glen in the comment section please

user13 this gets cuter when you realize she was actually kissing him through the glass 😭❤️

oliviadejonge absolute stunner 🥀

austinbutler Get over here right now

liked by fan12, user13 and 988 others

enews Austin Butler and girlfriend spotted sharing a few cuddles and kisses while on a date! We all know how much they love their smooches 😚

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user21 one hand on her back, other in her pocket this man knows he’s fine

fan13 IM SO FUCKIN LONELY 😩

liked by ashleytisdale and 13794 others

austinbutler sweatin’ because my date is so hot

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ashleybee HAHA the caption 😂😂

yourinstagram lol u cheesy man 🫶🏻 ily

anthonyboyle He was probably so proud with it too 😂

keoghan ace mateeee 😌

ayoedibiri this is my favorite post you have ever posted

liked by keoghan92, zendaya, and 93166 others

austinbutler Took over lighting production during a visit on set and she killed it !!

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florencepugh I’m so mad you didn’t bring her on the Dune set

yourinstagram WHAT DO YOU MEAN I WAS THERE EVERY WEEKEND

florencepugh not enough. i needed you there every day.

yourinstagram Michael Mann said the job is mine 🤩

user13 y/n getting a job on the heat 2 set iktr!!!

liked by tchalamet, bazluhrmann, and 101766 others

austinbutler I want to do with you what spring does to cherry tress - Pablo Neruda

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fan23 … is everyone else also transfixed on her awesome boobs or am i a perv ?

oliviadejonge gorgeous girl

tomholland2013 aren’t we lucky boys mate?

ashleytisdale 😍😍😍

ayoedibiri she’s got you quoting pablo neruda and i completely understand why

yourinstagram if your boyfriend isn’t also your photographer break up with him

liked by catherinemartinedesigns and 89716 others

austinbutler 🕶️

view all comments

zendaya the coolest to ever do it

keoghan92 sickkkk

rileykeough Austin we’re gonna need you to release a book of all the photos you have of this gorgeous girl 🌚

ashleybee Her job is Cool Barbie

liked by ashleybee, anthonyboyle, and 67178 others

yourinstagram was my turn to snap a photo of this handsome guy who makes me the happiest i have ever been ♥️♾️ ‘love could be labeled poison and we’d drink it anyway’

view all comments

austinbutler oh no

yourinstagram taste of your own medicine mister lol

keoghan92 my teeth can’t handle the sweetness

florencepugh not one bad photo of either of you exists

ashleybee Having a big sister moment because he’s winked the same since he was like 5

yourinstagram can we look at baby pictures again 🥹

—

No disrespect intended to Austin’s current relationship, I respect their privacy but also I really wish Austin would post his gf, talk about her, all that good stuff I GET WHY HE DOESN’T 😭

also using Sydney Sweeney as a FC because I’m currently obsessed with her she’s awesome?? Brilliant ??? She is everything. Also I may have an idea for part 2 but it would be nsfw concerning leaked nudes and such but would anyone be interested in that? Lemme know! As always feel free to come chat 💬

[lucysgraybird]

Erm i js read ur pregnancy fic, is it possible for u to write an alternative version yk a happy one ??? 😭 it was rlly good tho but that hurttt

YES babe ofc im so sorry 🙏 i saw angst and it got away from me. sorry for losing my head. here is an alternate ending to this fic

warnings: labour/childbirth, blood mention, deeply unrealistic (should've put this on the other one too! i am an 18 year old virgin i know where babies come from and that's it)

The night the baby comes is dark and peaceful: there hasn't been more than a soft fall of rain in weeks, and the spring has brought balmy evenings that have made chores almost a gift to do.

Even more of a blessing is the time after chores, curled up on the porch under Billy’s arm. He's twisting the ends of your hair around his fingers absently, and you twist to look up at his face.

“What's on your mind, honey?”

“Hm?”

“I can hear your thoughts from here, Billy. Are you worrying about something?”

He tucks his chin over your head and you hum contentedly at being wrapped up in him, safe and warm.

“Just thinkin’ about the baby is all,” he says. “What we're gonna name her and that stuff.”

You laugh. “I bet it'll come to us in the moment. We don't even know if the baby’s a girl.”

“I do.” He slides his arm off your shoulder to your waist, placing his hand flat against your rounded belly. “Gonna be the best little girl, and she's gonna look just like her mama.”

"Mm...with your eyes, if we're lucky."

You crane your neck to peck Billy on the lips, coaxing a smile from your husband. Out of nowhere, a cramp twists through your lower back and you cover Billy’s hand with yours, wincing. He shifts you off his chest slightly to look at you.

“You okay?”

The pain passes and you can breathe again – it's not something you've felt before, but you know things get weirder the bigger the baby gets.

“Fine, yeah. I think she was moving around or something.”

Billy gives your stomach a firm look, which coaxes a laugh out of you and chases away your nerves.

“‘s not the baby’s fault, honey,” you say. “She's just getting comfy.”

“You're sure you're alright?” He confirms. “I can ride into town and-”

“I'm good. You don't need to worry, okay?”

He nods and pulls you back against him, his body a shelter from any worries.

As the night creeps on, there are a few more cramps but nothing notable, and you're able to fall asleep almost immediately when the time comes.

That is, until the middle of the night, when you wake up with your entire core on fire.

“Billy,” you whimper, grabbing for his arm.

He groans, still mostly asleep.

“The baby’s coming, Billy, you gotta-” You pause, a bolt of pain too great to speak through wracking your body for a moment. “You gotta go get the doctor.”

That wakes him immediately, and he's rolling out of bed before his eyes are even completely open. He takes in your face, screwed tight and shiny with sweat, and he's trying to get ready and comfort you at the same time.

“It's okay, darlin’, you're gonna be okay,” he says, not even bothering to take off his pajamas before tugging his work clothes over them and shoving his feet into his boots. “I’m gonna get the midwife and she'll take care of you.”

For all his confident words, his voice trembles and breaks at the end of his sentence from seeing you in this much hurt, which sends tears spilling down your cheeks. Billy scrambles for the door, then back to you to press a kiss to your forehead and a hand to your cheek.

“Gonna be fine, darlin'. I'll be back as quick as I can.”

You don't even have time to reply before he's out the door and gone.

The pain only increases while he's gone, time going hazy and strange. You can't figure out how long ago Billy left, or how long it should be until he's back – you can't really think of much besides the ache throbbing from your pelvis to your chest. Noises that don't sound like your own are tearing themselves from your throat as you writhe in bed, trying to find anything that'll ease the pain.

Soon (or maybe not soon at all, you can't say), Billy is bursting back into your room, the midwife hot on his tail. She takes one look at you and turns to Billy.

“I need boiling water and strips of cloth.”

Billy nods wordlessly and disappears out to the kitchen. You didn't realize how desperate you were for him until he was gone, and a new bout of sobs streak down your face.

“Oh, lovey,” the midwife says as she strips back your covers. “Your boy will be back soon, he's just helping me keep you safe while you're in labour. Can you tell me how far you are along?”

She tugs your nightgown up around your hips, and you're in too much pain to feel any shame.

“Baby’s right on time,” you groan. “Just about nine months.”

Your body bows forward with another stab just as Billy walks through the door with a steaming pot of water and strips of a clean sheet, and he nearly drops everything in his haste to get to you. Once he's sure that the midwife has what she needs, he's settling next to you, offering a hand to squeeze and a shoulder to lean on.

“You may want to step out, Mr. Bonney, this-”

“I'm stayin’,” he says, surely putting on a brave face when you grip his hand like a vice. To you, he soothes, “Hold on as hard as you need, darlin’, you're not gonna hurt me.”

“Okay then,” the midwife says. “Get ready to push, lovey, this baby is just about to come out.”

You don't even have to think when the time comes, a baser instinct taking over for you. It hurts like nothing has before and a wail chokes out of your mouth. Billy is still holding you, whispering sweet nothings that you can't quite hear against your temple. His lips are dry on the skin there, and it's grounding in the sea of sticky and hot that you're swimming in.

Suddenly, the pressure in your pelvis changes, but the pain doesn't. Everything is so wet. What is that?

“I'm going to insist you step back now, Mr. Bonney,” the midwife says.

You look up at your husband, whose skin is ash-white against his dark hair.

“Billy…?”

"You're okay, darlin', I'm just gonna let the midwife take care of you." His voice is shaking in a way that makes you nauseated, and the world is swimming around you on top of that.

He goes to step away, just as the midwife requested, and heartbreak rips across his face when you reach out for him. Then there's another gush of wetness and a dizzying wash of pain: the last thing you see before you pass out is the form of a baby in Billy’s arms and the most genuine fear you've ever seen on his face.

When you wake, it's just Billy in the room, cradling a bundle of blankets in a chair he's dragged to the bedside. He's up as soon as you wake, trying to smooth a hand over your head and hold the baby properly at the same time.

“Hey, darlin’, how are you feeling?”

You try to sit up and immediately throw in the towel, groaning. “Tired. And sore. Is the baby okay? What happened?”

“Baby’s just fine,” he says, tilting the bundle to show you a wrinkled, sleeping little face. “The midwife says she's the healthiest baby she's seen in a while.”

A soft smile blooms on your face. There's a relief warming you from the inside-out that you've never felt before.

“You were right about the baby being a girl, then.”

“Mhm.” There's a teasing pride in his hum, and you use a little of your waning energy to nudge his shoulder with your head. “I haven't thought of a name yet, though.”

“Can I hold her?”

Billy hands her to you wordlessly, helping you settle your arms around her.

“She's so small.”

“And she's already caused a lot of trouble for her mama,” Billy says.

He's joking, but when you look up at him, there are tears in his eyes.

“Honey, are you-”

“I'm okay, I'm okay. It was just a lot of blood, and I didn't know what was goin’ on. I thought you…”

The sentence ends there, but you know where he was going, and you lean into him.

“Can't get rid of me that easy, cowboy. We got a little girl to raise.”

The baby stirs a little in your arms, then settles back into a deep sleep. You watch her thoughtfully.

“Billy,” you say.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“How would you feel about naming her Kathleen? After your mother?”

There's dead silence for a moment before Billy presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think that's perfect,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to go any louder without breaking. “If that's what you want.”

“It is. Welcome to the world, Kathleen Bonney,” you say, and Billy wraps an arm around you. It is a perfect tableau: mother, father, and baby, and all the love there is in the world.

[ky-yk]

blessing in disguise (hyj x f!reader)

genre: fluff || word count: 690

author's note: thank u anon for this, literally brought me to life

"alright, guys, i had fun today," you spoke to the camera.

it was your turn to film for fimlog. you loved this series, having a knack for filmmaking yourself, but man was it tiring having to film yourself.

dressed in your favorite set of pajamas, barefaced with your glasses resting on your nose bridge, you gave a tired smile to the camera that you had facing your bed. "i'm going to sleep, good night, fearnot!" you greeted before ending the video. you then changed the video setting to "timelapse" and started recording again before settling in the comfort of your own bed, book in hand.

you never got rest like this often. being a member of one of the hottest girl groups in the business, you'd be lucky if you even had the energy to change out of your clothes from the day -- that's how busy you guys were.

then again, that's the price you pay in exchange for living the dream.

seeing the fans, travelling the world, and doing what you love with the people you love made everything worth it in the end.

that doesn't mean the road here was easy, though.

between sleepless nights, bouts of insecurity, and thoughts of giving up, a certain someone was with you through all of it. the same someone who was knocking on your door and peaking her head through the crack she made.

you perked up from your book at the sound and were greeted with the sight of your groupmate -- huh yunjin. a smile easily took over your features as you locked eyes with the girl.

"am i disturbing anything?" she asked, ever the gentlewoman.

"not at all," you chuckled in response.

"can i come in?"

"of course, jen."

at your permission, she opened the door to reveal one of your favorite sides of her -- jenjen, the girlfriend. she looks so small with how her hoodie and pajamas seem to be swallowing her whole. she shuffled her feet towards the foot of your bed before climbing on and laying on top of you, forcing you to put your book down beside you and wrap your arms around her waist.

"i didn't know being your bed was part of my job description."

"you should've read the fine print," she tsked, resting her chin on your chest to look up at you. you rolled your eyes at her antics. she stuck her tongue out at you. all was right with the world.

"how've you been today?" you asked.

"same old, same old. i had a bad day today, though," she sighed. you raised your eyebrows in surprise, ready to listen to whatever had her down in the dumps (and maybe beat a few people up -- only if necessary, though). the look on your face makes her chuckle.

"i didn't see you at all today, that's why," she says with a pout.

"yah, you had me worried!"

"i'm being serious though. you've been so busy, lately," she sighs.

you frowned at the girl. deep in thought, your eyebrows unconsciously furrowed until you came up with a plan.

"why don't we go out tomorrow?"

"what've you got in mind?"

"whatever your little heart desires, jen," you whispered to her, hearts in your eyes.

the hold this girl had on you was insane.

you wouldn't have it any other way, though.

"is that so?" she whispers, seemingly inching up to steal a kiss (or two. or five.), but not before you could stop her.

"jen, as much as i'd love to make out with you right now, my phone's been time-lapsing all of this, so..." you trailed off.

"oh." she muttered, her cheeks dusted pink.

you chuckled at the turn of events before giving her a peck on the forehead and moving the girl so that she was beside you. once she settled on your side, she rested her head right above your heart and wrapped her limbs around you, the steady beating of your heart grounding her and lulling her to sleep.

safe to say, when the video went live, CHINGUZ was trending on twitter for days on end.

[wrathfulmercy]

Happy new year 🌟

A few words for my absolute favorite Babies on here to send you some love and the recognition you deserve:

@elpida what can I say what hasn’t been said? What can we write what we didn’t already write? I tell you: a lot! Cause with you by my side I know that my muse will never vanish. With you I know I have a true friend, a real companion, a soulmate in writing. I can’t thank this stupid platform enough for finding you love and I can’t wait for all the crazy stories and drama (and filth) we will create on here in the future. Love you baby 🩷

@wiinestories baby you know I love you so very much and I know that whatever may come you will be here waiting for me with your incredible talent and warm heart that always amazes me. I hope this year will be kinder to us and I’m looking forward to more time spend with you on here and rl as well. You’re wonderful 🩷

@mettleborn so many years we are writing on here already and sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky finding such an incredible talent and person like you on here. It doesn’t matter if I read from you every day or once a year, your writing will never stop amazing me and I always will look forward coming back on here to relax and find you. I can’t wait for every next word I’m going to read 🥰 love u

@xgoldxnhour oh my Darling you might never know how much you mean to me on here and how comforting it feels to read our stories in dark times when I feel low. It doesn’t matter how many times we write but you always are in my thoughts and for sure you’re in the ones of my muses as well. Only love for you baby 🩷

@thesongbiird @hcneygaze my sweetheart who is always spreading happiness inside of my heart and warms the souls of my muses so very well with her simple presence. You know we love all your girls and we will never stop sticking together with our crazy ships. I am so lucky to have you on here cause I know if everything goes down you’ll be still there and I can’t thank you enough for it 🩷 you’re wonderful 🩷

@etherealxmuses my partner in crime and lovely friend that always brings so much joy into my life. You’re so incredibly warm hearted and a generous and welcoming person that I can never thank you enough for just existing. My Rick is so lucky to have found you early on and I can only say I’m too :)

@ourwrittenstories my sweetie, going through the same up and downs as me and still always finding her way back to me filling me with absolute joy and pride 🩷 you know I’ll always be here if you need something and I can’t say enough how much I’m thankful for our late night talks and the incredible support you always give. It doesn’t matter if we write or not, it will never change the way I feel about you 🩷

@isolatednights one of the new mutuals of last year I simply can’t stop to mention enough. The way you fill the timeline with talent and ideas is admirable and I always am happy to see you anywhere cause you bring up so much love into your writing that it just drags everyone right into web of muse. Thank you for finding me and I hope many years and stories are here to follow 🩷

@theirmadness my sweetie I can’t thank you enough for bringing out the wild side in my rick and no matter how many times we actually write, it always makes me happy to share my muse with you. Stay as you are 🩷

Everyone I forgot to mention separately don’t think you’re overseen! You’re all incredible, all important, all absolutely talented and we’re blessed to have you here. Thank you everyone for sticking with me for so many years on here already. For bringing my fun back for writing. For lighting me up in dark times. For making me believe I can actually do SOMETHING after all even when I’m often chained to my bed due to my conditions. You opened a window in a very small world for me and made it so much bigger and I can’t thank everyone enough who is here and might follow later on. Let’s create more stories and I only wish health and happiness on all of you. Happy new year 🩷