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httpsserene · 3 months ago

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𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 - 𝐜𝐬. 𝟓𝟓 & 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 | 𝐒𝐎𝐒 |

𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫

summary: you can't complain about being paid to soak up the heat of the spanish sun and serve drinks— if you can ignore the flirting middle-aged men. however, this summer could be your last. you need to decide if you're returning next year by the end of the day. if only there was a sign to help you make up your mind.

content warning: fluff. light flirting. world-building and backstory. ignore my questionable spanish. no beta we die like summer silly season 2k24.

pairing: poly! carlos sainz jr x lando norris x phd-student fem!black!reader

from, serene: just a little teaser, a lil prologue, to establish the vibes and vague characteristics of the reader ! i’m using my light understanding of spanish (as an unfortunate no sabo kid) to get through this, so pls ignore thx.

The sweat beading along your hairline causes your edges to curl and lift. The cooling effects of the portable fan dangling around your neck are negated by the suffocating humidity of a mid-August summer day, yet it enhances the scent of sweat, sunscreen, and the hints of your faded perfume. Your appreciation for the dry-fit fabric of your uniform is refreshed; if it wasn’t moisture-wicking, your resignation email would’ve been submitted with haste.

But, the uniform does its best to protect you from the Spanish heat, and the pay (and tips) are satisfying. You make enough money to live frugally and cover any expenses that your financial aid and scholarships don’t during the school year. This meant you didn’t have to juggle being a full-time student and a full-time worker to survive. Working the beverage cart is perfect—you can’t be mad about serving drinks to men who have more money than they know what to do with, and even though you despise the fact that they freely flirt (terribly, at that) with a wedding band shining bright on their left ring finger—it pays your bills. As much as that disgusts you, this was always meant to be a temporary job, a stepping stone. You weren’t planning to continue working here after you got your undergraduate degree. And now, after graduating, a fancy company has hired you and is offering to pay for you to get a PhD. So, of course, you accepted their offer of free education and a job. This means there’s no reason for you to continue working as a cart girl at Golf La Moraleja in Madrid.

But, it’s Spain! Summer in Spain, at that, it’s a massive difference from a monotonous school year back in America. And, you don’t even have to pay for an apartment in Madrid (which is out of your tight budget, anyway) because your parents live here, and they’re always desperate to have you at home rather than out living on your own. The shining summer sun keeps your melanin strong, too. You’ve made friends out of colleagues, good friends. You’ve made good memories, a good resume, stupid choices, near-death experiences—you’ve made a time out of your early twenty-somethings. You don’t want to let it go.

Yet, it seems like it’s time. You don’t need the money, even though having extra income would be terrific in this economy. It would probably exhaust you during a break that’s supposed to be relaxing from your PhD studies. You’ve regained all fluency in the Spanish language that you lost growing up in the States. You’ve been a cart girl for four years, maybe it’s time to start a new chapter and leave this behind. The cart bounces over a bump in the pavement and breaks your train of thought. Your body tenses at the sound of the cans and bottles clinking together louder than you’d like. You do not want to stay late on your last day cleaning out melted sticky alcohol from the cooler. It’s ironic—you would think that with your four summers of experience, you wouldn’t let your mind wander while driving. The clock beeps its warning of fifteen minutes till the end of your shift, and you sigh. Directing the cart back towards the first hole of Course One, you’re aware that if there’s anybody present who wants a cold drink, they will be your last customer of this season or even your last customer for forever.

You lift your foot off the gas pedal as you see three figures become visible on the green, readying yourself for what could be your final service. You halt the cart, turning off the engine and smoothing out the skirt of your uniform as you stand and walk out a few steps.

“¿Qué puedo servirles de beber?”

You catch the attention of one of the men, an older gentleman who greets you kindly and informs you that he needs something strong if he’s going to be dealing with the other two for eighteen holes. You laugh politely, glancing at the men who have yet to notice your presence. The taller brunette is annoying the shorter, poking and prodding at his stance, seemingly teasing him about his form. Your smile brightens at the sight before you redirect your focus to your current client, and you begin to talk him through his options for the stronger alcohol you’re carrying today.

He easily downs a shot of whiskey and takes a bottle of beer with a lime off your hands before he turns to gather the others’ attention.

“¡Mijos!” The men at this point, have dissolved into boyish squabbling that carries over to where the two of you are standing by the cart. They silence easily at the older man’s call, heads snapping in your direction with widened eyes. Oh fuck, that is what your brain thinks at the view.

The taller, tanner one, is handsome. He’s built—broad shoulders, plush lips, a strong nose, wide brown eyes, and long eyelashes that he has no reason to have. The shorter, paler one, is beautiful. Pretty, even. He’s not quite grown into himself yet, you can tell. But, the youthful mischief lingering in his blue eyes is alluring, especially when paired with his cute sunburnt cheeks, and the big grin showing the cute gap in his teeth—did you say he’s cute already?

As they near the cart, you notice that Brown-eyes (you’ve decided on using descriptors because of the lack of names) shares the same eye shape as the older man you’ve served. He must be his son, or related to him at least. Blue-eyes must be a friend, or family, you suppose, if he acquired all the recessive traits during his genetic raffle. You exchange greetings with the two, dismissing the shakiness of the younger’s voice as shyness.

“¿Algo que quieran beber, señores?”

“Can you ask her if she has anything non-alcoholic?” The British-accented English spills from Blue-eyes’s mouth, and you understand that his greeting sounded nervous because of his lack of fluency.

“I do have a selection of non-alcoholic drinks—,” you start, smiling as all three men look surprised at your code-switching, “—That I can tell you about in English if you’d like?”

“Oh, I would like that very much, please,” the words tumble from Blue-eyes in one breath, the Spanish men laughing at his relief of being able to communicate in his native tongue.

“Not fluent in Spanish yet, huh?” You tease him lightly, with a soft smile to communicate your lightheartedness.

“I have terrible teachers,” Blue-eyes laughs pitchily, and both Spaniards gasp in faux-dismay of his words as he continues, “If you couldn’t tell.”

“I am not a terrible teacher,” Brown-eyes clarifies, accent curling around his words, “You just do not listen to me when I try to teach you!”

“That’s not my fault! How am I supposed to stay focused when I’m talking to you?”

Brown-eyes seems surprised at that response, his eyes appearing to widen even more at the words. Blue-eyes realizes what he said during the pause of banter, his cheeks flushing even redder beneath his sun-baked skin.

“Well,” you clear your throat, eager to dismiss whatever that was about, “While I don’t know if he’s a bad teacher or not—I can assure you that I’m a great teacher when it comes to the non-alcoholic drinks I can serve you today!”

All three men seem to relax at your seamless dismissal, and you can feel Brown-eyes look at you thoughtfully as you ramble a relaxed script about what you're carrying to Blue-eyes. There’s a brief moment where Blue-eyes turns to his(?) father, for his opinion on what he should order, and you look away, making eye contact with Brown-eyes. His eyes are softer, and he nods at you, as if in thanks for your earlier redirection. You do the same, and shrug your shoulders lightly as if to say, “All good.”

Blue-eyes’ voice calls for your attention as he orders a refreshing virgin cocktail, and you turn to start mixing it for him.

“You know,” you think aloud, “If you ordered an alcoholic drink, I wouldn’t believe you’re old enough to be served?”

“Hey! I’m twenty-one, I can even drink in America now!”

You turn to look at him with narrowed eyes, tilting your head to the side dramatically before shaking your head as if you don’t believe him. Brown-eyes and his dad (you’re confident in their relationship), chuckle at this interaction, in a way that leads you to believe they’ve heard it before.

“Aww,” you coo, as you salt the rim of his plastic cup, “Twenty-one! You’re such a baby! I would think your I.D. is fake if I ever saw it.”

“I’m not a baby,” Blue-eyes pouts, his eyes brightening as he thinks of a response, “Wait—well, you look too young to be serving alcohol!”

“I’m taking that as a compliment, not an insult since I’m older than you. Beautiful brown skin like mine doesn’t show age, at least that’s what my mom says. Anyways—there’s nothing wrong with being baby-faced, it means you look young for longer.”

Blue-eyes ponders that train of thought as you add a slice of lime as garnish. You hand the drink off to him, waiting for him to take a sip to see if it’s to his liking. His eyes flutter shut as he swallows, with a tiny moan of approval following, and wow, that sounded like a different type of moan. It’s enough to cause your mind to drift to other scenarios where you may be blessed to hear that noise in, and you make the mistake of letting your gaze cross Brown-eyes again.

There’s a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and his eyebrow is raised at you slightly—like he’s aware of your train of thought. Hmm, you think, is that because he’s experienced the same train of thought as yourself, or is it because he’s gotten to hear that beautiful sound in the way you want to? It’s also possible that he thinks you’re just desperate, too. You blink at him, forcing your expression to remain innocent, before Blue-eyes speaks gleefully, breaking the tension once more.

“This is the best drink I’ve ever had!”

You’ve heard those words hundreds of times on the course, but hearing them from him has you suddenly feeling bashful, waving his words away with a hand before you address Brown-eyes.

“¿Para beber, señor?”

“Please, cálmate. I thought you were talking to my father,” he responds, and the older gentlemen, confirming your suspicions about his relation, laughs.

“And—there’s no need to call me sir. Not in this context.”

Blue-eyes chokes on his drink next to you and it’s enough to distract you from responding to whatever that was supposed to imply. Okay, you panic internally, you’re either just a freak, or these two fine men are freaks themselves, and they’re not hiding it. Maybe, they even want you to join—okay, calm down you harlot. The men roughly pat his back to clear his airways and Blue-eyes reddens, you hope it’s due to embarrassment and not lack of oxygen. When it’s clear that he isn’t at risk for dying, Brown-eyes does take a bottle of beer off your hands.

“Have you been working here for a while?” The dad inquires, pulling you away from that mind-boggling exchange and into another bout of small talk while you dispose of the bottle caps.

“Sí, señor. This is my fourth summer here.”

“What?!” The two younger men, both exclaim, shocked at your answer.

“We’ve been coming here regularly since 2019 and we’ve never run into you before?” Blue-eyes continues, perplexed.

“Really? Wow, that’s terrible luck. I guess I’ve only worked shifts when you all aren’t here,” you theorize, cleaning out the shaker you used for his mocktail.

“Why would it be ‘terrible luck?’” Brown-eyes asks with a painfully cute, confused tilt to his brows.

“It might be my last day,” you nod sadly, as all three men indulge you with sounds of dissent, “I know, sad, isn’t it?”

“But, why?” asks the dad, “Are they treating you badly here? Because I’ll talk to them for you. You seem like such a hardworking young woman.”

“Nonono, they treat me very well, there’s no need for threats! I’m just too hardworking. It’s just—I think it might be time for a change, you know?”

“We don’t know, actually,” Blue-eyes, offers smartly, “But, I wanna know. I like you, I think you’re interesting, and I’m invested now.”

You force the urge to giggle hysterically down as your brain screams, He said he likes you! That sounds like he’s in love with you! The cacophony of your subconscious gnawing at the bars of its enclosure rattles around your skull.

You stare at them for a second, determining whether or not you should share your personal life with three strangers you're being paid to serve drinks to on a golf course. So, of course, you explain your very simple dilemma to the men. Do you quit your summer job because you’re afraid it might be too much to handle on top of getting your PhD and working an office job? Or, do you continue to work on the green because you’ve genuinely only ever enjoyed your time here, because it’s extra money in your pocket, because you’ve fallen in love with Spain, and because it keeps you near your family?

“I think you should stay.”

“Obviously, stay.”

“Sí, stay.”

You laugh abruptly at the answers. You’re ninety-five percent sure their answers are drenched with an ulterior motive—well, the two younger men's responses are.

“You like it here,” Blue-eyes starts earnestly, “I figure that getting a PhD is a lot of hard work, but why don’t you at least try it out for one more summer? If it’s too much, you don’t have to come back after that, right?”

The clock inside the cart blares its alarm for the end of your shift. You reach inside and shut it off before turning back to look at Blue-eyes thoughtfully, “I guess you’re right.”

“And…if you stay for another summer, there’s a chance we will see you again, no?” Brown-eyes jumps in.

“I would say the odds are pretty low, as this is the first time I’ve served you guys over four summers,” you joke back. That’s the reality of the situation, though. The first time you run into hot men who are your type and around your age range. You have to cope with the fact that you’ll never see them again. You’re the one with the terrible luck.

You tap the ledge of the cart off-handedly as you begin to ring up their drinks in the mobile register, pausing briefly to look up with a polite smile, “Is there anything else I can get for anybody before I head out today?”

Blue-eyes and Brown-eyes turn to whisper to each other, the older gentleman snorts, exchanging thanks with you and well wishes for your future before he walks back over to their equipment, leaving the younger men to close out the tab.

“Yes,” Blue-eyes clears his throat, “Can I have a ‘Sip of Sunshine?’”

You can’t recall ever carrying any beverage with that name and telling him as such, “Sorry, I don’t think we sell that. Is it a beer, or a cocktail—”

“You’re the sip of sunshine,” Brown-eyes interrupts you, twin smiles of pride painted on both men’s faces.

You laugh freely. It’s the most pleasant experience you’ve had being flirted with on the green. “I think that was the worst pick-up line I’ve ever heard!”

Brown-eyes rolls his eyes at your response lightly, giving you his credit card to pay, while Blue-eyes cheeses at you, “It made you laugh though. And, I think it made you blush too.”

“It did, but, the blush might be more of sunburn though,” you grin back at him, handing the mobile register to Brown-eyes for him to sign and tip, if he chooses. You avoid looking at the screen as he hands it back, placing it securely in the cart.

“Wait,” Brown-eyes calls, as you slide into the driver’s seat, “We never got your name?”

“You mean you never read the name tag that’s been clipped to my collar the entire time we’ve been talking?” You pester back, amused.

“We were too busy being distracted by how pretty you are,” Blue-eyes counters.

“Ah, that’s unfortunate,” you giggle, your flushed cheeks a definite result of the conversation and not the radiating sun, “I never got your names either?”

“Carlos,” Brown-eyes answers, “He’s Lando.”

“I can speak for myself you know,” Blue-eyes, Lando, sasses back. He pinches Carlos’ arm, causing the man to yelp and pull away from his side, and Lando takes the chance to address you again, “Will we see you next summer?”

“Oh, I hope not,” Carlos and Lando’s mouths drop open incredulously, “I don’t know how much more of your terrible flirting I can take!”

You smile at your own words, starting the cart and driving away from the green with a self-satisfied wave in their direction. You pray for your boss to still be in his office—you need to let him know that you’ve finally come to a decision about returning next year.

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ninguitar · 2 months ago

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KISS ME THRU THE PHONE, 𓈒𓈒 aeri as ur gf with a twist.

pairing. aeri uchinaga x f!r genre. fluff wc. 600 idk notes. saw pinkselle and KNEW i had to make a quick dravble on her. also a quick little gift for my baefy @sed7ction >< MASTERLIST.

now playing ⋆ sunsetz by cigarettes after sex

WHAT STARTED AS A SIMPLE FRIENDSHIP, where you and aeri uchinaga, a former classmate, rekindle with one-another, eventually turned into more-than-friends relationship.

as the clock struck 4 in the morning for you, and 3 in the afternoon for giselle on a breezy, autumn night, you lifted your phone, immediately dialing giselle's number—just once more to hear the girl's voice.

after all, you missed the japanese girl.

you're met with a dark, black screen on your phone, aeri's voice ringing through your ears. "hello?" the girl barely audible.

you whisper against the phone, "gi? you there," afraid to wake up your roommate, who'd more than likely ramble on and on about needing her "beauty sleep," which often fell deaf on your ears.

"yeah, yeah, 'course i am," giselle drawls, and it was almost as though you could hear her ear-to-ear grin that stretched her lips.

"good, good," you mumble slowly, to which giselle almost chuckles, raising her volume button, "missed me, didn't you?"

ever since giselle went on her world tour with her members, you both had to cram in time to call each other, which in hindsight, was excruciatingly difficult.

"maybe i just wanted to see your new pink hair, that you never told me 'bout," you poked fun at her, your laugh barely above a whisper, but nonetheless, aeri couldn't help the way her heartstrings tug at your melodic laugh.

"whatever you say," the japanese girl simply chuckles, her eyes darting around your features—even when you were disheveled, in the dim room with only your phone illuminating your face, giselle couldn't feel more content seeing you, that it almost made her lightheaded, even.

"you should've let me inside your luggage, just like i suggested when you told me about going on tour," you giggle, heat curling on your cheeks.

aeri didn't think that, without a person in her life, she would be absolutely crushed; at every slipping moment while on tour, all she could think about was your presence—your warm, inviting presence that had her moonstruck.

"go to sleep, you big fool; you always say such corny things (that i love) when you're all tired," giselle quips, rubbing her temples dramatically, as your corny comments only make her flushed. god, she was helplessly in love with you.

you huff, protesting like a kid trying to avoid their bedtime, "wanna hear your voice, c'mon," making giselle scoff.

oh, how you just missed giselle's unwavering touch—her arms snaked around your waist, fitting perfectly and snug, her velvety, soft lips pressed against your temples to calm you down, and the way she just buried her head against the crook of your neck, inhaling the perfume she bought you.

and oh, have you missed the way giselle spoiled you rotten, no matter how much you protested that she was frugal in spending her money on you. though, of course, she'd buy her pretty girl the entire shop—with a beck and call, she'll hurriedly rush to your side, immediately buying it.

not to mention, the way her hands rested on her guitar, before strumming to a familiar beat, her angelic, melodic voice seeping through. the way she just secretly opens your playlists—which often consisted of aespa's songs—memorizing each and every song down to its notes to ensure its perfect, just to serenade you.

"how about i stay on call 'till you sleep, yeah?" giselle proposes, which makes you automatically nod, eager.

you throw yourself back onto your bed, your head buried against your pillows, before blissfully succumbing to slumber, your grip on your phone loosening, and turning the camera to your ceiling.

god were you cute, "goodnight, y/n, sweet dreams."

i wanna hear your voice

a love that nobody could destroy

#fics 　.#kpop imagines #kpop x reader #aespa x reader #aespa imagines #aespa giselle #aespa giselle x reader #giselle uchinaga #aeri uchinaga #giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga x reader

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troublesomesnitch · 9 months ago

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Make Your Hands Unclean

Aemond x Wife!Reader - Period sex drabble

Premise and bits of dialogue shamelessly stolen from The Borgias.

Contents: drabble, pure filth. Menstrual sex, p in v, anal touching, graphic imagery. Internalised misogyny and harmful attitudes towards menstruation. Aemond is an asshole. Porn with weird plottish vibes.

Words: 2300

idk what this even is, this thing kind of wrote itself and I just went with it. It is kind of a mess tbh.

You were supposed to marry a lord.

That is what you were raised for, and those are the skills you were taught. To sing, to dance, to play the harp; to make yourself look pleasant. Your septa taught you to sew, and a woman from Essos taught you to weave, and in the afternoons the maester taught you history and linguistics, astronomy and arithmetic, and other things that ladies rarely speak about, but nevertheless must learn.

For it is the lady, not the lord, who runs the castle. Who manages the household, and oversees the people it employs. Such a lady must ideally be both kind and commanding, generous and frugal. She must know how to handle serfs and noblemen alike, and she must be proficient in numeracy; able to record expenses and perform difficult calculations.

To be a prince’s wife requires no such skills.

This castle already has two queens, and besides it is not for royal women to concern themselves with practical matters. There are ladies-in-waiting for that, and stewards, chamberlains, maids and matrons; an army of servants hundreds strong to ensure that you may always be spoiled and idle. More than a lady, but less than a queen, left to twiddle your thumbs and wonder when, if ever, the oppressive walls of Maegor’s Holdfast will begin to feel like home.

You do not like it here.

The days are long in King’s Landing, and the air is foul, polluted by the smoke of ten thousand hearths, by the stench of filth and unwashed bodies. It seeps through every crack and crevice, and you like the early mornings the most, when a cleansing mist blows in from the sea, and the ship’s bells ring over Blackwater Bay.

Your husband rises early too, though it is for different reasons. Prince Aemond adheres to strict routines, to noble pursuits and rigorous discipline. He is exactly as people say: a stoic, severe in both temper and countenance, condemning indulgence and deriding depravity.

Yet for all of his moral posturing, he does seem to have developed a taste for it rather quickly.

You couldn’t say the exact number of times the prince has had you, but it has been many, and often, and in every position imaginable, and you dutifully report it all back to your family. As they have instructed you to do.

Before you were sent off to the capital, you were relentlessly reminded that there will never again be an opportunity such as this. That a marriage to a royal prince is a rare honour for your family, and one that was only made possible because the crown finds itself at war. Your house is not a great one, and your father is not the noblest lord, but he is very wealthy. And on the field of battle, wealth does tend to triumph.

You do not know what other promises were made, what lands or titles were negotiated. Only that so much now depends on you; on your ability to please your husband and give him healthy children. Preferably male, but even a daughter would markedly strengthen your position. So you play your part as best as you can , and you pen your secret letters, divulging all the details of your intimate affairs. That the prince sleeps with you frequently, and seems to find great pleasure in it. That he performs his movements to completion, and expends his semen inside your body.

It is a grave responsibility to have on your shoulders, and you were utterly crushed when you woke to find your insides churning, and your sheets stained with blood.

They will be most displeased, your mother and father. Your brothers and uncles, and your cousins too. Prince Aemond's seed has not yet taken.

In the evening he knocks on your door. Two determined raps, and you are thoroughly surprised. Your maid will have told his mother of your ailment, and she will have told him, and he too must be disappointed. But you know it is the prince, for there is no one else who would visit you at this hour.

You know very well what he has come for, too.

“We can’t tonight,” you sigh.

“And why is that?” he says, amused, as if the idea that you would refuse him is ridiculous.

“My blood - I am bleeding.”

Prince Aemond hums, but he walks to your couch and begins to undress himself, unbuckling his doublet and unlacing his breeches, tugging off his boots while you wring your hands.

He can’t be serious. He can’t mean to take you like this.

“It’s not - it isn’t proper,” you protest. “Our maester said it is ill-advised - most men find it unclean - “

“I am not most men,” he scoffs.

There is no arguing against that, and he says it with all the confidence of someone who knows it to be true. Aemond is a royal prince. A dragonlord, a scion of a greater people. Second to no one but his king and brother, and if he wants to get himself all bloodied, then you suppose that is his right.

He rids himself of his undershirt, and you reluctantly move to the side to let him join you in bed. It isn’t proper, but your insides flutter when he pulls you against his naked body, letting you feel the warmth of his skin, his manhood against the back of your thigh. It is hard, and twitching when he runs his hands over your figure, your breasts and your stomach, your waist, your hips, the tops of your thighs -

“No, you mustn’t - ” you squeak, but he rucks your gown up anyway and slips his hand in between your legs.

You are wet there, with blood as well as with desire, and you can feel the stickiness when he spreads your lips, curving his fingers and sliding them back and forth along your slit. His breathing is hoarse just from caressing you, from feeling your wet, your warmth, your little swollen nub begging to be touched. You whimper when he circles it with the gentlest of strokes, light and teasing, until you arch your hips up in frustration and breathe oh please.

Prince Aemond likes it when you beg. Only then does he press down, but not enough to bring you to a peak. Just enough to make your insides tighten, and more blood gush from your womb.

You always did find it strangely beautiful, the blood of your cycle. Deep maroon, and scarlet red - but you are ashamed to see it coating the prince’s fingers when he withdraws them. It is thick, and clotted, and he takes a moment to study it before he wipes his hand clean on your shift.

“Are you not displeased with me?” you whisper. He should be, given that you have failed to conceive. That there is no way of knowing if you can bear children at all.

“One mere month is not cause for concern,” the prince says.

You breathe a faint sigh of relief. It is a comfort to know that at least your husband doesn’t hold your failure against you - yet.

He tugs on your shift, eager to expose your body, but you cross your hands over your chest.

“Let me keep it for tonight,” you plead.

You can’t rid yourself of the thought that you are unclean, and you would feel so much more at ease if he didn’t see your heavy, aching body. But you don’t want to entirely deny him access to it, either. Seeing as you are bleeding, the chances of begetting a child are small, which means that his wish to sleep with you must come from genuine desire rather than obligation. And that makes you very happy, as you imagine it would any wife.

You will make sure to include it in the next letter you send back home. Hopefully it will lessen their disappointment.

The prince looks somewhat displeased, but he lets you keep your dress, resorting instead to bunching it up around your waist. He is stern, but never cruel to you, even if he does pull at the neck to bare more of your breasts. He pinches your nipple, and then his hand moves downward again, and you throw your leg over his hip to give him more room to touch you.

This time he does it properly. His fingers find your pleasure right away, and he swiftly brings you to your rapture, impatient as he is to have you. It leaves his hand stained and tainted, and once again he wipes it off on your shift, but this time you don’t care.

With the position you’re in, it is easy for him to crawl over your leg and take his place between them, and he kisses you as he presses against you, deeply and hungrily, rocking his hips, his manhood throbbing and leaking between your legs.

Your parts are soaked, but he is careful when he pushes inside. Despite the prince’s relentless pursuit of knowledge, he must not know all that much about a woman’s blood, at least not in practical terms. Where it hurts, and how much, and whether this intrusion will make it worse. You can’t hold it against him - you don’t believe there are many scholars who would want to write about the topic, and how then was he supposed to learn?

“Harder,” you pant, and he obliges, moving faster and pushing deep inside.

You let him find a steady rhythm, hooking your legs over his hips, and letting your hands wander over his body while he has his way with you. You stroke his balls, imagining that what he keeps inside will take root in you. You pinch his nipples, all hard with pleasure, and you slide your hands down to his lower back, to the base of his spine, where the skin is dusted with downy hairs. Where you can feel each of his thrusts; the rolling movements of his hips, the rhythmic clenching of his buttocks.

Your dainty touch makes him shudder, and you move your hands to his arse, and then further still, slipping your fingers in between his buttocks. To where he is warm and tender, and where his skin starts to pucker.

It is filthy, the way he twitches there. The way he throbs. A dirty place to touch, and a sinful thing to do, but you have found that the prince likes it. No added pressure or attempts at entry, just gentle strokes with the tips of your fingers. Soft caresses over his opening.

He buries his face in your neck and groans, and you can feel that he is nearing his peak. His movements are fast and shallow, his chest heaving and slick with sweat.

“Yes, my prince,” you whisper. “Fill me with your seed, put a son inside me - “

He likes that. He hisses loudly, gripping the headboard for purchase, and you look up at him when his hips stutter. Prince Aemond’s face is always handsome, but never more than when he is on top of you, in the throes of ecstasy. His brow is furrowed and his eye squeezed shut, and the tension in his body makes the damaged side of his face convulse, his lip twitching up towards the scar.

He wouldn’t like for you to see that, but in this state he does not feel it happening.

You lie still as he peaks, allowing him to rut into you wildly, groaning and grunting as he spills his seed. Hot, and wet, and adding to the mess inside you. He lies limp on top of you to catch his breath, and when he finally withdraws, the blood is everywhere. On his softening organ, on his sack, and crusted to the soft hairs on his thighs.

“I’ve made you dirty,” you state.

“Yes, you have,” he says. “In more ways than one.”

You look the other way to give him some privacy when he rises to tidy and dress himself. On your wedding night he stayed with you until the morning, and he has done it a few times since, but it is not a common occurrence. Prince Aemond prefers to sleep alone, and your mother chastises you for that too. She says that to rouse a man’s desire is less than half the battle, and that you must make your husband love you.

Of course if it were really that simple, then there would be no unhappy marriages and no children born as bastards, and if you knew how to make a man fall in love, you would be the richest woman in all the world.

But you must at least try.

“Won’t you stay with me?” You ask. “It is - important, for a woman to be embraced - to be treated gently, afterwards…”

“Next time, I will,” he says. And that is the end of that, for you will not stoop so low as to beg for his company.

He smoothes out his shirt and pulls on his breeches, and you sit up and comb your fingers through your tangled hair. When you look down there are stains on your sheets, and a thick rosy fluid trickling out between your legs.

“You may want to abstain from riding,” the prince says over his shoulder. “It is known to upset the balance of the womb.”

You nod, bound to obey what is clearly a command posing as a suggestion.

“Did you know,” you muse, “that the blood of the womb is the only blood that is not born from violence?”

Prince Aemond looks at you with a thoughtful expression, one that suggests he had in fact not considered that before.

“Quite the philosopher you are,” he remarks, with a little raise of his brow. Coming from him, that is the highest praise.

It does not change his mind about staying, but he does press a noble kiss to your temple before he leaves you. Sore and bloodied, but content.

You did well tonight.

Notes

“Most men find it unclean/I am not most men” is from S1E7 of the Borgias.

“Menstruation is the only blood that is not born from violence and yet it’s the one that disgusts you the most” is a quote by artist Maia Schwartz. I couldn’t find any more information about her unfortunately.

Tags. @arcielee, @targaryen-madness.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic

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northopalshore · 3 months ago

Text

Groom Persona Chart ♰

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

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Groom (5129) is an asteroid used to interpret your husband, usually after marriage. It could also give you details about your union & married life. In a man's chart, it tells you what they're like as a husband.

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In this post, I will be writing down my personal analysis on my own GPC, as well as other observations I've made.

Masterlist!

Post Contents: i. Personal GPC

ii. Extra observations

Personal GPC: northopalshore (gaia)'s husband

Virgo (2° taurus) 1st house

Their appearance, how they act after marriage

They could seem quite petite or frail when they were younger. He could be quite big for a virgo rising, either height, weight or both. Their faces can be quite appealing or have very attractive features. They might be very critical about their looks or put a lot of effort into presenting themselves as clean & neat.

After marriage, he'll act very practically and be very devoted to the union. People will see how stable he seems to be, he could be more.. calm or mature.

Libra 2nd house

Their approach to money or finances

They may spend a lot of money on beauty products or grooming products. They could spend a lot of their finances into taking care of themselves & their outfits. As a husband, he could spend a lot of money into the aesthetics of his house, cutlery or even on dates. Tends to be very generous as well. Loves to give gifts or romantic surprises.

Jupiter (18° virgo) in 2nd house

What brings him the greatest joy, where his focus may be centered around, what he's most generous with, where he likes to give advice

He could be very keen to earn money. He may earn a lot of money through their job or through working. Everything they own is something they have worked for, nothing is just given i.e not a nepo baby. He could be quite frugal or very picky with what he spends his money on. However, when they do spend they tend to splurge on big purchases. He might have a habit of overthinking his purchases as well. As a husband, he will add a lot of luck & abundance into his spouses' finance. He could also teach her to be more responsible with money. When giving gifts, he'll make sure that it's something practical or something he knows, his spouse will like. Very attentive to the little likes & dislikes.

Eros (13° aries) in 2nd house

Their drive, their passion, erratic & sexual energy

They may earn money through their s*x appeal. Their job may involve movement, showing off their s*xual drive or just embodying this energy. They could work as a stripper (I might wanna give magic mike a visit lol). Could be a dancer, a porn star or a singer (if most of what they do involves movement) . I'm thinking of Chris Brown for some reason .

Fama (25° aries) in 2nd house

Their focus, what brings attention to them, what they're sort of known for

They could be very popular for their work or their money. They place a LOT of importance on financial gain. People could know them as a go-getter. He could be famous by making money or be famous for their drive, energy or s*x appeal (mars/aries) . Since it's conjuncting eros, it's likely he'll get a lot of attention for his hard work or sex appeal.

Man, he really sounds like a stripper even after marriage. You know what? Make that bank honey. Wouldn't it be funny if we started stripping together? Lmao

Union (1° aries) in 2nd house

The joint energy between him & his spouse

He & his spouse both may be very focused on money when they get married. There will be a joint effort into making money together as spouses. That, or both will come up with ways for one of them to earn more money lol.

It almost feels like we were meant to work together.

Union in Scorpio

We both may be a very secretive couple. Both may be protective of the union (marriage) & will want to keep a lot of things going on in your home life under wraps. An intense duo.

Scorpio 3rd house

How he communicates, how he thinks, how he processes his thoughts

They may be very close to their siblings. Perhaps they have gone through a lot of difficulties together. He might like to discuss taboo topics or may think about them a lot. He could also be quite an obsessive thinker. He may find it difficult to let go of something he doesn't truly understand. Could also be a very private person before & after marriage.

note: I find that people with these placements are either very private or overly comfortable talking about personal things lol.

IC (5° leo) in Sagittarius

Home life, children, him as a spouse or father

As a father, he'll be very passionate about his children's lives. Wanting them to have fun & express themselves artistically. He will make sure that they're well educated and cultured. Making sure that they do not suffer with language barriers or estrangement in their home country.

He could be very artistic as a child. He may have received a lot of praise for his talents when he was younger.

Sagittarius 4th house

He may have travelled a lot from a very/relatively young age. Perhaps for school. But after marriage, it's likely he'll be away from home quite often.

Similar placements: gemini, pisces, mars, pluto & uranus 4th house

Note: see where 4th house ruler is to see why they moved.

ex: Sagittarius 4th house, Jupiter in 2nd house. Moving to earn money/for better financial aspects.

Mars (14° taurus) in 4th house

His energy, his goals, his passions

He could have moved away from his mother, his hometown or family from a young age. Perhaps because of money or for a better life.

After marriage, he'll be away quite often for work related ventures. Home life will be quite busy with work. I feel like this could be another indicator of the household being busy with work in general.

Mars sextile Jupiter

This man has a lot of energy & vigor. He may be more restless than the average person. He may also seem to have a neverending supply of energy & enthusiasm.

Mars conjunct Pluto

He may have issues with obsession when it comes to his possessions. He may have a lot of s*x appeal as well. Perhaps a lot of people may lust over his appearance or his body. He may put a lot of effort into his body. He could possibly have a smoking habit as well.

Pluto (23° aquarius) in 4th house

Where change takes place after marriage, where things can be rather unstable or he may be obsessed with, what breaks tradition

He could have had to move away alone as a child. This move was a very hard decision to make i.e a lot of things were on the line or his whole life had to change because of this i.e becoming independent, having to do everything alone, away from his family.

Home life after marriage will be rather busy. Either him or both of us may be away from home quite often, or living in different places due to travel or work i.e sometimes in his country, sometimes in mine then other countries in general. He might not have a traditional sense of what home is.

ex: this reminds me of the kids in China that had to move to their families residing overseas during the one child policy. They couldn't afford to live with their parents in China for fear of detainment or punishment from the government. So a lot of them had to be independent so young TT.

Pluto trine North Node

This change was a fated occurrence. It was something that had to happen.

Great Attractor (14° taurus) in 4th house

What he's most focused on in the relationship, where he gains most attention

He may attract a lot of adoration from women or mother figures. He is adored for being kind and sensitive. People will like him for his caring almost mother-like nature. He could be adored for his cooking or eating (?) too. He may look very feminine or gentle and people will love that about him.

He will be very focused on his home life, his children, his wife, everything that comes with being married. To him, that's his rock.

Capricorn 5th house

Children, dates, romantic tendencies, what brings him joy

He may be quite reserved when it comes to having fun. He could have a problem dividing his time between work & play. He could be an all work no play type of person. He could consider work fun. He has reservations on love or romance, or this area may have been restricted either by him or others. Could have issues expressing himself artistically or is not an artistic person.

He has a very traditional sense of how the couple should have fun, where he'll be in charge of what they should do i.e dates, time & place. Perhaps believing the man should be responsible with a lot of things.

5th house stellium

A large focus on art, romance & children

Art, performances, children, theatre or any talent in general may be very important to him or he may as well work with them (because of Capricorn). He could be very creative, very artistic and somewhat flamboyant. He views the 5th house values as his work. He could be a very romantic person. He could be somewhat of a theatre kid too.

Venus (7° libra) in 5th house

His love language, how he expresses his love and adoration

He could be a very romantic person. Someone who is very talented & blessed with art. He may be very artistic even as a child. Performance, art and theatre has a spot reserved in his heart. He may have a fair approach to romance but he is also the type to idealise love/romance/art. A loyal lover.

As a husband, he will love planning dates & buying flowers. He will do anything to keep the romantic aspects of the relationship alive & well.

Mercury (7° libra) in 5th house

His thought process, how he talks, how he handles communication

He may talk about romance a lot or read about it too. However since this is the 5th house, it's more likely that he is an avid enjoyer of romantic movies or musicals. He may enjoy love songs, listening to them or singing them. He could prefer witty or fast-paced films. Usually prefer something loud & colourful i.e animated movies, children movies & Baz Luhrmann type of films. Could be very indecisive when it comes to making decisions. He could procrastinate a lot lmao.

Certified yapper although I think he'll have a lot of buffering moments. Very romantic but still reassuring as well since it's in Capricorn.

Priapus (22° capricorn) in 5th house

What may be uncomfortable to him, invasion of privacy

He could be very s*xualised throughout his career. If he acts, or sings he may be very s*xualised for that. He could play forceful or big D energy types of characters very well.

ex: Reminds me of Jamie Muscato playing Jason Dean (JD) in Heathers: The Musical. Listen to his version of "Meant to be yours". goddamn.

Sun (25° aries) in 5th house

How he acts as a husband, what he's like after marriage

He may have a very extra personality (although it may be a little dimmed or controlled at first since it's in capricorn). He could very much immerse himself in his art or his work. Children might love him i.e popular with children or people who are younger. Very passionate about his art/work/expressions. He could be very prideful/competitive with his work too. He's very practical, but passionate & a little bit childish. Deep down, there's this youthful aspect inside of him who wants to have fun.

Chiron (26° taurus) in 5th house

What he may fear in the marriage, what he's most concerned about as a husband

He may have experienced a lot of pain in his childhood, love life or career. He could also have trauma surrounding beauty, food or money. He may love sad songs, ballads or dark paintings. He could express a lot of his art in a dark way. He could have a very healing talent i.e singing, cooking, painting. His voice could be very soothing to others.

As a husband, he'll be worried about whether he's doing enough for his family or not. Where he's truly connected to his relationships, or whether he's romantic enough to keep the relationship alive and well.

Aquarius 6th house

His work, his responsibilities, his presence in the relationship

He may have an unconventional job. He may not work a 9 to 5. His work could involve a lot of spontaneous or original ideas, independent movement, and could also be related to computers, videos or the internet. Could work for himself by then or an independent company.

Though, this also means that our household may have a nontraditional way of dealing with responsibilities. Both are independent to some degree.

In my briede persona chart, my 6th house is Pisces. I have a theory that we'll be away from home (regular responsibility) quite often to work together or do our own thing.

Groom (6° virgo) in 6th house

How he'll actually act as a husband, how he fulfills his husbandly duties

He's very committed to the relationship. Being both independent & loyal. He's the type that would do anything for his family.

This also just emphasizes the last placement. He could continue his work even as a husband. He may be working a lot even after marriage.

Groom trine Midheaven

Being a husband will bring him a lot of luck in his career. He could be known for being a husband or a married man.

Neptune (14° taurus) in 6th house

His dreams, his safe haven, what ideal he strives for after marriage

He strives for perfection in work-life balance. Wanting to have a stable relationship, while also maintaining a good career.

His work could involve a lot of creativity and sensitivity. He could sell dreams, illusions or comfort. With the taurus degree, it's still centred around his voice, cooking, and art. His career may be quite misleading to other people or very mysterious. Perhaps people have a set stigma around his career i.e personal assumptions.

Juno (17° leo) in 6th house

Where he connects with his spouse

Work and arts, passion & practicality. We share the same values when it comes to our goals and desires, which makes things easier to navigate.

His spouse could share his love for the arts and performances. She perhaps works with art or children could be part of her routine/job.

note: I'm a theatre kid lol! I actually am pursuing a career in the educational field, but there are a lot of signs telling me that I'll end up working with him soon.

Pisces 7th house

His relationships, how he connects to people or his relationships

He keeps his close ones dear to his heart. Very passionate about the people that he loves as well. He may be the type to long for this almost unattainable romance. Dreaming of fleeting hot summer nights. He may idealise his future spouse a lot. Putting her on a pedestal even.

note: looking at Jupiter & Neptune, they seem to sing a similar tune. Looking at venus, he could be very picky when choosing partners to settle down with. Forever searching for "the one" i.e the person who checks all those boxes in his head.

DC (2° taurus)

How he approaches partnerships, whether personal or professional

He may be very practical, or traditional. Keeping his space when he needs to.

Though, he's a lover boy. In love, with love. He may romanticises women & the feminine world often.

Uranus (4° cancer) in 7th house

What may be "unpredictable", or different, what challenges him or those around him, what transforms him

He's marrying a foreigner (lmao) & or be a foreigner to his spouse. With uranus in pisces in the 7th house, he'll marry someone from a different country. Someone with a very different status or background (pisces). His spouse may come from a country opposite to the taste of his hometown/mother lol. This is what may come up as "alarming" at times. Perhaps distance could be an issue as well.

Like I may be living in a different country at times from where he needs to be or is currently at after marriage. I think it's quite common between couples that come from different countries though.

note: sorry mother-in-law! Ily tho! He could also sign unconventional contracts, but also work with his spouse after marriage.

Vesta (1° aries) in aries 7th house

Friendly energy, where he finds common ground in the relationship, friendships in general

He's going to be somewhat besties with his spouse lmao. It's like he's married to his best friend.

He could work with his childhood friends or sign contracts with them, own a business with them even. He may have a very friendly connection to his spouse i.e be best friends, or have an almost siblings like relationship.

ex: bickering, and quarreling over small dumb things. We may love to annoy eachother lol.

Alma (27° gemini) in 7th house

His soul, his heartfelt emotions

The way to his soul is through the mouth. Talking. Long, romantic, dreamy conversations he can daydream about. Words stick to him like glue, it may open a lot of doors in his relationship. If he signs any business contracts it might have something to do with his voice or his writing. He may feel like this marriage & his current relationships were written in the stars, or meant to be, & may communicate that often.

Lust (14° taurus) in 7th house

His more carnal desires, his general passions or longings

This man is very affectionate, but still crazy horny ngl. Should I invest in a spray bottle?

Since it's in pisces, he may need to feel soul bonding sex to feel alive. Very private with his intimate life too. Keeps his fantasies them all to himself. Again, he romanticises love, sex & devotion. He believes you can't have one without the other.

Aries 8th house

His sex drive, what parts of him undergo change

He may have gone through many challenges as a child. He could have an obsession with death, or the occult or any taboo topic. He may have an obsession with sex at some point in the marriage lmao.

Moon (4° cancer) in 8th house

His feelings, how he processes& expresses his emotions

He has emotions that run deep and fast. Whatever he feels in the moment will cloud a lot of his judgement or his thoughts. He may use physical activities to deal with stress or pent up frustration. He may be quite sensitive & easily hurt. He could crave a deep, soul bonding type of physical intimacy. Doesn't seem to be the type to go against celibacy or at least not without feeling deeply connected to someone. When he feels betrayed by someone, well.. I hope they listen to Nsync because "bye bye bye "

note: sounds like the male version of me ngl

Moon square mercury

He may have some difficulty trying to convert what he feels into words.

Vertex (10° capricorn) in 8th house

His destiny, fated events after marriage

His career may experience a lot of rebirths. A lot of trials and error, a lot of experimenting and learning. Perhaps he had a lot of trouble in the beginning of his career i.e lawsuits, rebrands.

After marriage, his spouse & marriage life will influence his career a lot going forward. Like I've mentioned, working together would change the course & focus of his career greatly. It's like a new "era" in his career.

Boda (21° sagittarius) in 8th house

How marriage changes him

He may get married in a foreign land i.e his spouse's home town. He and his spouse may have a karmic relationship. They may have been joined together to learn or teach others something. He could feel deeply connected to his spouse during the wedding. He could have a private wedding, one where only people close to the bride & groom are permitted to attend. There may be dark or gloomy themes in the wedding. His marriage may be very shocking or hated by others. It may be very controversial too.

note: I've always wanted a private wedding, something a little kooky too with slightly gothic themes here & there. It would be great to have a tarot reading corner for the guests lol can you tell I have plans? Beetlejuice, hold our vows! Lol

Harmonia (23° aquarius) in 8th house

He could have a healing presence. People could come to him for comfort, or they may resonate with his sensual energy. People could like to invade his space/privacy at times.

North Node (27° gemini) in 8th house

He could need to learn boundaries in this life (because 8th house is in Aries). He needs to think and act for himself, be more selective and selfish with his energy and people he lets into his life. He could also learn to dip into the esoteric world i.e astrology or tarot. He could learn to be very rebellious too i.e respecting his personal wishes instead of conforming to the norm.

Taurus 9th house

He may not travel that much i.e prefers not to leave his house lol. Although, travelling could bring him financial gain or add beauty into his life/perspective.

Briede (17° libra) in 9th house

He's marrying a foreigner. I feel like this has been a little repetitive, but that's just how it is sometimes. There's a lot of emphasis on certain aspects. He'll marry someone with fair judgement and a lust for life. They may share similar beliefs or philosophies since both Libra & Taurus are ruled by venus (the same planet). She could be very stubborn or may put a lot of importance into knowledge and higer education. She could also love expressing herself with fashion or art. She may move in with him after marriage i.e brought into his home country.

ex: It feels quite strange talking about myself in 3rd person ngl, I hope this is somewhat helpful!

Gemini 10th house

His career could involve a lot of movement. Frequent short trips, talking, creativity, intellect, communicating & fast ideas. He could work in a very fast paced environment i.e the city.

MC (5° leo)

His work involves a lot of creativity & talents. Art, design, acting, children, directing, singing etc.

Part of fortune (24° pisces) in 10th house

He could be very blessed with his career. He may have achieved a lot of his career goals, or he may as well have achieved a lot of his dreams in this profession. Again, could work with dreams, illusion, art and healing. Therapy could be something too.

ex: perhaps.. he could be selling weed lol no, I'm kidding but it sounds like it at times doesn't it.

Cancer 11th house

A lot of his friends may be women. People in his community or group may be female dominant. Could also be his mother's friends. He has a careful approach to making friends or joining a community. He could either act as a mother figure or be treated with care/ motherly by people in his community.

Lilith (18° virgo) in 11th house

He could be very uncomfortable in social situations. People he works with could invite him into different friend groups often most of them may be women (because of cancer). Or his work could lead him to interact with a lot of people/groups and not stay for long lol. He may not have a fixed friend group i.e always moving and switching friends. Could also have to deal with a lot of different groups due to work i.e people, communities.

note: this is mostly because lilith also symbolises rebellion, so wherever lilith is it will sort of add a juxtaposition there.

Saturn (23° aquarius) retrograde in 11th house

Actually. He could have a set friend group. He may have been friends with a small circle of people for a very long time. They may have been through many changes together. Since it's aquarius, he may have just met them randomly one day or through the internet? He might have an unconventional group of friends. His friends may be quite eclectic. Most of his friends could be older than him.

Leo 12th house

He could be quite hesitant to fully embody his creativity or his flamboyant tendencies. He may be fearful of backlash from people around him. He could have issues expressing himself to his truest desire. He may imagine himself acting one way (which is most genuine to himself) but then execute something different or lackluster in his perspective.

My Groom Persona chart:

Extra observations: not from my chart

4th House stellium/cancer°

They are very soft, and caring. The type of person to act as a maternal figure to his friends. People may find him very comfortable to be around. He may have a close relationship to his hometown or his mother. He could be a very talented cook or homemaker.

Union in 9th House/Sagittarius°

The focus of your relationship will be to expand eachother's knowledge and share eachother's culture. Common in interracial couples coming from different regions or countries.

Alma in 12th house/pisces°

He may be very spiritual, and connected to his higher self. He may be very aware of the karmic cycles of life.

Saturn in 2nd house

He will bring stability into your finances. He may have grown up quite wealthy, or money has never been a problem. He could also have worked for his wealth.

Saturn in 7th house

He will bring stability into your love life. He could also be very strict with the type of relationships he wants to be in.

Saturn in 3rd house

He may have trouble communicating his wants & desires. He could also be very mature, and prefer to keep his life/plans in order. He could speak in a very concise manner, speaking only when spoken to. He could place a lot of importance in early education. He could be the eldest child, or he has a significant age gap with his older/ younger siblings. A lot of his siblings could be much older than he is (more than 5 years, usually at least 7).

Sun in 7th house

He may have a career in the business world or may involve contracts at least. He may put a lot of importance into one-on-one relationships. He could be very romantic & loyal.

Sun in 3rd

Certified yapper! He will be very smart & witty. He could be great at debating or communicating. He could work well with spreadsheets, or PowerPoint. He may have a special affinity towards writing or reading books. He may act childish at times, he has this youthful aura to him. He may be an only child, or is very close with his siblings.

Sun in 2nd house

He could be perceived as very charming or attractive by others. He will be very fashionable, perhaps he puts a lot of pride into his outfits or his creation. He could also love cooking or is known for his cooking.

Sun in 1st house

He will be very attractive. Could be a people magnet. He is the type of person who can charm anyone in an instant. He is not the type to hide his personality, or act through a persona. He shows you that what he is on the surface is exactly the same as what's underneath. He could attract a lot of admirers too.

Mars in 2nd House

A lot of his focus will be on making money. He could work in finance, banking, fashion, or beauty related industries. He may be moving around a lot or gaining money through movements/s*x drive. Striping? Lmao

Moon in 2nd house

Money could be very important to them. They may find security in stable finances. Their mother may have been a spendthrift, and perhaps they have gotten a similar habit because of that. As a husband, he will shower you with meaningful gifts very often. He may feel uneasy i.e act erratic when money isn't great. He could work as a chef, or if he is a business man he will sell things that bring people comfort i.e housewares, mattresses, music (if gemini is aspected)

Moon conjunct Venus/taurus & cancer significance in 2nd house

They could be a chef or place a lot of importance into cooking & homemaking.

Note: Your future spouse may have similar traits & placements to the ones you see on your Groom persona chart & Briede persona chart. Of course, it's not going to resemble it 100%. What's important is the characteristics.

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***entertainment & educational purposes only: reader discretion is advised***

Thanks for reading ♡

@northopalshore

#groom persona chart observations #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology blog #astro notes #astrology content #astro observations #astrology community #astrology ramblings #astrology #groom persona chart #northopalshore asks #northopalshore GPC #future spouse astrology #love astrology #romance astrology #marriage in astrology #groom asteroid

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somniumfaults · 2 months ago

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"do you think we'll be together in every lifetime?"

quick drabble to try and help get me back into the swing of things!! ^_^ been struggling to get into the mindset to write recently tbh but i'm happy w how this turned out!

pairing: jin kamurai x reader

rating: ~T for a very very vague innuendo at the end

prompt: "do you think we'll be together in every lifetime?"

tags: possessiveness, established relationship

part 1 of the "in every lifetime" series! // Next

Jin normally wouldn’t humor such a ridiculous question, even if it was coming from you. He didn’t believe in reincarnation. The soul was born and killed with your first and last breath. There would be no next life, much less for the condemned. It was the contract signed the moment he had become a ghoul, and it was fact. He had no reason to humor something as silly as next lives, and knowing you, it was probably just another whimsical question you had concocted. He still hadn’t forgotten your attempts at “would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Yet.

There was something in your voice that had him pulling his arm down from his face and looking over towards the bed where you sat, your phone sitting limp in your grasp. This wasn’t a question you asked with a goofy smile on your face knowing it would get you rolled eyes in return. If anything, you seemed reserved—nervous almost—and were staring him down with an intensity normally reserved for your annoyance with work. He raised an eyebrow. Your grip around your phone tightened.

He didn’t understand where this was coming from. You were sitting in his bed, made small by the extravagance surrounding you. You were dressed in clothes that he had purchased and had tailored specifically for you, designed painstakingly around not only your own tastes but what he personally wished to admire you in. Your bank account regularly was deposited with enough money that the first time he had done it, you had come complaining to him about the bank wanting to freeze all your funds. You still complained occasionally about not needing the cash, but you also knew by now that he was not going to take no for an answer. Because you were his. To love and to care for, no matter how many times you irritated him with your stubbornness and frugality.

This was a given, as natural as the air around you both and the way his fingers felt slipping between yours.

Your warmth seeping into his skin, staking your claim as greedily as his own. The both of you fighting to leave your mark on the other in such a fleeting, dog-eat-dog world.

“... Don’t ask stupid questions,” he finally chose to respond with, lip mentally curling with pleasure when you pouted at him. He settled back down into the couch and closed his eyes, content that nothing of importance had actually happened. “As if anyone else would ever be allowed to touch what’s mine.”

And if you had truly forgotten, then he would be sure to remind you later. Whether it was in this lifetime or the next.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #jin kamurai #jin kamurai x reader #writing.ddz #tkdb.ddz

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anachronisims · 10 months ago

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Catch You on the Flippity Flop!

a TS2 traits expansion

by @anachronisims (sufficeittosay) and @cityof2morrow

Part 1: New Traits!

What you get: 16 new trait object files for your personality diversity pleasure. Most of them are opposites of existing 3t2 traits that didn't already have them. One is just because :)

Big Spender (opposite of Frugal)

Black Thumb (opposite of Green Thumb)

Can't Carry a Tune (opposite of Virtuoso)

Climate Denier (opposite of Eco-Friendly)

Difficulty Reading (opposite of Bookworm)

Dislikes Animals (opposite of Animal Lover)

Dislikes Cats (opposite of Cat Person)

Dislikes Dogs (opposite of Dog Person)

Dreamer* (the intersection of Ambitious and Absent-Minded)

Generous (opposite of Mooch)

Homebody (opposite of Adventurous)

Minimalist (opposite of Gatherer)

Nudist (opposite of Never Nude)

Slow Learner (opposite of Genius)

Sweet Tooth (just because)

Terrible Cook (Natural Cook)

(*) I know @lilbabydilljr released a Dreamer trait already as part of the hidden/scrapped TS3 traits collection, but I wanted to change the flavor text and concept of it. My spouseman is a real dreamer-content-to-dream and I felt the TS3 scrapped version was too close to Ambitious. So @cityof2morrow made a different icon for it, and changed the GUID as well because Dill's conflicts with HB's simlife goggles. However, the file name is the same as Dill's and will overwrite it.

ETA: These are traits objects that WILL appear in your catalog in Gen/Misc. They are NOT added to the traits collection file as I don't use it. Feel free to do so yourself, of course.

What's coming next: Updates to existing traits mods that are plausibly affected by these traits (plus some personal preference tuning). Check out the to-do list here. Suggestions welcome and encouraged! Anyone who would like early access as a beta tester, please let us know!

Credits: @hexagonal-bipyramid for the original 3t2 Traits Project, @moocha-muses whose Dylan's Black Thumb got me thinking about this becoming realer than flavor text, and the whole inspiring TS2 simblr community whose appetite for traits mods keeps me going!

Download at SFS

Updated Feb 18 2024 at 245 EST (US) to fix an issue with thumbnails/catalog appearance.

#ts2 resources #ts2 download #ts2 traits #ts2 traits project

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sixpennydame · 1 month ago

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Part Two: The Clinch

Pairing: Boxer!Choso Kamo x Fem!Reader [Jujutsu Kaisen]

Word count: 5.8k

You decide to trust Choso and he commits to helping you. But it might be more than either of you bargained for.

Author's notes: Like the Jujutsu Kaisen world, this story is set in Japan, and there is mention of yen as currency and yakuza as organized crime groups. Thank you to my beloved @littlerequiem for beta reading.

Series content/warnings: No curses AU, bare knuckle boxing, violence (in the boxing ring and out), mentions of blood and broken bones, eventual smut

Chapter content/warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT. Unprotected sex (wrap it up irl, everyone), oral sex (fem receiving), light biting, soft couple intercourse, gambling, yakuza

Part 1 / Part 3 / Series Masterlist

AO3 | Playlist

There’s rarely been a time in Choso’s life when a physical connection didn’t involve pain.

A mother who was practically unknown to him.

A father who was as verbally manipulative as he was physically abusive.

A boxing coach whose view of encouragement was a wooden sword across Choso’s back.

The only exceptions were his three younger brothers. They’d always been his one, loving constant.

When they were little, he remembers play-wrestling with them in the house, always letting them win. Their skinny, gangly arms pinning him down, Choso laughing uncontrollably when they’d dog pile him.

All those years, they’d only had each other to depend on.

He knew sending them to boarding school was for the best, but it didn’t make the choice any easier. The day Choso saw them off at the train station, he pulled them into the tightest, longest hugs.

After that, his life changed. It was lonely without his brothers, so Choso began to focus his time and attention on fighting, training, and eventually, on his matches at night. He lived as frugally as he could so he could send the money he earned to the three younger siblings so far away. How long had it been since he’d seen them? Would they even recognize him now?

Some days, Choso felt more like a machine than a man: going through the motions of his day, beating up others and getting beaten upon. But when his skin would break and the blood would flow, it made him feel alive. Sure, it was a shitty way to live, but he accepted it as his own.

And then, everything changed when he walked into your office.

Your touch was so soft that night, so gentle—when you held his head, checking for signs of concussion.

He felt his heart race every time you pulled him close to check on his wound, or looked into his eyes and asked how he was feeling.

And when his lips finally met yours for that kiss, Choso thought he had to be dreaming. He waited for you to push him away or slap his face; but instead, you returned his kiss with the same fervor, opening your mouth, and inviting his tongue to mingle with yours, a faint taste of blood from the cut on your lip.

He practically ran down the hall after his fight, hoping to find you waiting for him.

(You were.)

It felt like a risk to reach his hand out to you. Would you trust him, let him protect you?

Your hand in his was all the answer he needed as you both walked to your apartment.

On the street, the two of you now pass by anonymous faces, the night still young for those searching for a vice. Choso is alert and on edge, still coming down from that rush of adrenaline he gets when he fights, but also from the possibility that the blue-haired freak might have decided to follow you.

“I don’t live far from here, just around this corner.”

It’s the only thing you’ve said to him since you left your office, but he can almost see the wheels in your head turning, trying to make sense of all this. Choso was trying to understand too: why he was so drawn to you, why he couldn’t get you out of his head, no matter how hard he tried.

(But let’s face it, he hadn’t really tried that hard).

Sure, there was so much he still didn’t know about you, but he could feel you opening up to him, little by little. You seemed so strong but delicate, serious and sad. Besides his brothers, he’d never cared much for anyone else, but now…

….All that was starting to change.

A card key beeps and the door to a dingy brick building clicks open. You let go of his hand as you start walking up a narrow, stuffy stairwell, the sound of your shoes scraping against the concrete. When you get to the third floor, you turn and walk down a dimly-lit hallway.

Keys jingle, the door creaks open, and you take three steps inside, but Choso stays just outside the doorway.

You’re home safe, like he wanted, and it’s late. He should say goodnight, walk down those stairs, and head back to his place.

But then you turn to him.

”You wanna come in?”

His body suddenly won’t move.

”Just for a moment?” you add.

“Y-yeah,” he says, crossing the threshold tentatively, as if you might change your mind at any minute.

It’s a small, one-room apartment, with a bed in one corner and a cafe table in the other. The space is neat and tidy, but bare of any personal touches: no pictures of friends hanging on the refrigerator, no trinkets or knick knacks. There’s nothing that connects you to anyone or anything, as if you are just passing through.

”You want a beer?” you ask as you walk over to the refrigerator.

“Sure.”

You hand him the can and he sits at your table while you situate yourself on the bed across from him.

You’re not quite sure why you invited him in; all you know is that you didn’t want him to leave just yet. You’d been debating on what you’d do when you got to your place, and now he’s here, drinking his beer, with eyes keenly focused on you. You take a drink as silence fills the room until Choso says your name, softly.

”What’s going on? Why did that man hit you?”

You hesitate. “It’s a long story.”

“I figured that.”

“When I tell you, you’ll think differently of me.”

“Why don’t you let me decide that for myself.”

When you shift uncomfortably, Choso closes the gap between you and sits on the bed. He places a hand on your thigh.

“You can trust me.”

How long had it been since you’d actually trusted someone’s word? Perhaps it was finally time to open up to someone, and Choso seemed willing to listen without judgment. The burden had been heavy for so long.

“My father is a gambler,” you start, your eyes cast down and your hands folded in your lap, picking nervously at your nails. “But not just casually. It’s a compulsion for him. Been that way ever since I was young. He was constantly selling things in the house to pay his debts and sometimes, he’d be gone for days at a time. My mother and I often wondered if he’d ever come back; if the loan sharks he’d borrowed money from had finally come to collect.”

A complicated family life. Choso could understand that.

“I left the house as soon as I could and went to university to become a doctor. I promised myself I’d leave my nightmare of a family behind and only rely on myself. But turns out, that’s easier said than done.”

You swallow, thinking of how to phrase the rest of your story. “I was in the first year of my doctor’s residency when my father showed up at my apartment. He said he owed ‘some bad people’ millions of yen in unpaid loans. Of course he didn’t have the money, so he came to me.”

“Your father expected you to pay off all that debt for him?” Choso interrupted.

You shake your head. “He knew I didn’t have the money on me, but since I worked at the hospital, I had access to drugs – strong painkillers that could be sold on the black market. He begged me, said they were gonna kill him if he didn’t start paying them. I saw the fear in his eyes – I knew what he was saying was true. And yeah, he was a shitty father, but I couldn’t just let him be killed. His life weighed on my conscience. So I agreed to help him. I started stealing drugs from the hospital and giving them to the organization that was threatening my father.”

“You started working for the yakuza?”

You shift uncomfortably. “Yes.”

“Instead of just making your father sell it?”

“I couldn’t trust him with that kind of thing. If I was going to do this, then I was going to deal with the group directly. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I told myself that it was for a good reason. That surely after this, he’d change his ways. For a while, I actually thought it was all gonna work out.”

“But…” Choso can feel the climax of this story.

“But the hospital found out. They wanted to keep it quiet and avoid any bad press, so they silently let me go. I should consider myself lucky, I guess, but it’ll be impossible for me to be a licensed doctor now.”

“And that’s why you’re working at the arena?”

“I had nowhere else to go and still had so much money to pay off. The organization runs this arena - What else could I do?”

Choso can see tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes, but you quickly wipe them away.

It surprises you, how much you’ve allowed yourself to say to this man you’ve only known for a week. Long-guarded family secrets seem to flow faster than you’d realized was possible and hearing it out loud makes you feel even worse.

“I’ve resented my father for so long, but in the end, I’m just like him. Just some worthless piece of shit.”

“That’s not true.”

Choso’s large hand moves from your thigh to your hand, squeezing it gently. “You did what you thought you needed to do. You were put in an impossible situation. But we are not our fathers.”

“We?” you say, a puzzled look on your face.

Choso blinks, looking down. “My father is a terrible person. He was manipulative and abusive to my mother, me, and my brothers, although I took most of the physical blows. I remember just lying in my bed and wanting to kill him. And then he just…disappeared, and left me and my brothers to fend for ourselves.”

Choso struggles to continue, and so you give his hand a squeeze.

“I try to be a good brother, and a good man, but there’s this anger, deep inside me. And I’m scared that I might become just like him. Like it’s some kind of curse.”

He turns to look at you. “But I know I have to be better, for the sake of my brothers. I’ve made a lot of mistakes because I had no one to guide me; but I’m not gonna let that happen to them. That’s what keeps me going.”

That large hand now suddenly feels hot and sweaty in yours. Choso sighs.

“There’s just one thing.”

At that, your brow furrows. “What’s that?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you stitched me up that night. It’s starting to become a bit of a problem.” His words make you chuckle. “Seriously, I thought I was gonna have to get beaten up every fight to ever get near you again.”

Choso feels your hand squeeze his again, just a bit. You look up at him with your sad eyes and he can’t help but move closer.

“You have no idea what you do to me..” he confesses.

Then he says your name in that low voice you’ve come to yearn for.

“Choso…you don’t know what you’re saying. I’m no good for you.”

“Good…bad…I don’t care about any of that.” His body is now shifted even closer. “All I know is I want you. All of you. The good and the bad.”

The words you want to say to him hang just on the tip of your tongue:

I feel the same.

I want you, Choso.

But you’ve never been good with words. They’re too permanent, too binding. They create promises no one can ever keep.

Instead, you busy your lips by pressing them against his. You don’t notice his eyes going wide, as if he wasn’t expecting this to really happen. But it doesn’t take long for him to pull you closer, meeting your anxious kiss with his own determined energy.

Perhaps a little too determined, as the eagerness of his kisses press too hard on the cut on your lower lip. You suck in a breath and pull back, noticing that the wound has reopened.

Choso immediately cups your cheek. “I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, it’s fine. Just a bit tender.”

Choso stands up, takes your hand, and leads you to your bathroom. Closet-sized, the two of you barely fit, but Choso doesn’t seem to notice as he immediately grabs a washrag and wets it.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Taking care of you, for a change. Now keep still.”

He gently and deliberately dabs the washcloth on your swollen lip. His brow is furrowed and his eyes serious, and it gives you this flutter in your heart; a heart that for so long has known only the sting of pain, loss, and disappointment. Suddenly there’s a desire within you to experience more of this new feeling.

You place your hand on top of his and pull it away from your lip, then lightly kiss the corner of his mouth. One kiss is followed by another, then you start moving down his jaw to his neck - slow, sensuous kisses that make his breath hitch. Lips parted, your tongue draws in the salty taste of his skin, and as you move further down, you feel the beating of his pulse.

Choso can barely contain himself. His hands move under your shirt, cupping your breasts over your bra. When he hears your hum of approval, he pulls the shirt up and over your head.

His eyes rove over your collarbone and bare chest, where skin meets the cotton of your bralette. It’s now his lips exploring your neck and chest as he pushes you against the sink. You try to adjust, but the space is too cramped, so you pull away from him.

Choso’s face contorts in concern. “Did I hurt you again?”

But you’ve completely forgotten about your injured lip as you push him out of the bathroom and toward your bed. Getting the gist, he moves backwards, bumping into the table and chairs as he pulls off his sweatshirt, then t-shirt, and finally his pants.

It’s clumsy and awkward, but both of you smile between kisses as you grope and pull at the other’s clothing. You even laugh a little when Choso stubs his toe on the edge of your bed as he unhooks your bra.

It’s as if the heaviness of the night has been lifted away and all that’s left is the dark-haired man before you. Choso. He stands over you now in only his underwear, his chiseled chest and abs marked with scars and bruises. Black hair leads lower down, disappearing beneath the waistband of his underwear, his growing arousal evident.

He looks over you as you lay on the bed with his shy smile, only to be replaced by something more serious.

The small bed creaks as he positions himself over you.

“Is this ok?”

“More than ok,” you reply, attempting to keep calm but unable to hide the nervousness in your voice. Your very core is screaming to be consumed by this man, but this feeling of desire is so new and unknown. To be so vulnerable with someone - physically and emotionally - is territory you’ve rarely explored, if ever.

His dark eyes seem to look through any walls you’ve built up around yourself. You look away to avert his gaze, your cheeks burning.

“…it’s just…it’s been a while and I…”

Choso can’t help but smile. He cages you in with his arms and moves close to your ear.

“I told you, I’m taking care of you tonight. Will you let me do that?” he asks, before his lips start moving down your neck, then your chest. The trail of kisses make it to your breasts, his tongue flicking one nipple while his fingers pinch the other. Your eyes meet and you nod.

“Yes…” you breathlessly reply.

With that answer you see a change in him: a spark in his eyes that wasn’t there before. It makes your heart pound even faster.

His mouth moves even further down, stopping just as he reaches your core. By now your whole body is shaking in expectation and desire.

Choso doesn’t contain the growl that escapes his mouth when he pulls down your underwear. He has to taste you, to feel your heat, but he also wants to take it slow, to make sure you’re completely satisfied.

So instead of diving between your legs, he lifts one up, resting it on his shoulder before kissing along your calf. When he reaches your inner thighs, the light kisses turn to biting and sucking, which elicits a moan from your lips. Choso stops and smirks against your soft flesh.

“You like that, huh? I’ll remember that.”

Choso has never been one for studying or books, but he knows how to read people and the subtle tells their eyes and body give. Years of fighting in and out of the boxing ring taught him that when facing an opponent for the first time, you have to test out the waters - find their weak and strong points, and what gives you the better advantage.

He’s not in the ring right now, and you’re not his opponent, but he is studying your body, taking note of every twitch, listening to every sigh and moan. By the time he’s made it to your upper thigh, leaving kiss marks along the way, your breath has sped up and the leg hitched on his shoulder is pulling him closer to his intended goal.

“Choso, please…”

It doesn’t take a genius to know what you want.

And so he moves to your center, starting with a gentle lick at your folds. You’re so wet and you taste so good, it compels him to keep going, his tongue moving around your clit, your moans getting louder. Each moment you get wetter and wetter, and he’s lapping it all up like a man dying of thirst. When your hands grip his hair and your hips start bucking into his mouth, he knows you’re close.

Hell, he’s about to cum just from your moans alone. He begins to rut his hips against the bed, to temporarily appease his aching cock.

Because no matter what he wants right now, it’s your pleasure that comes first tonight.

It’s been a while since you’ve been sexually intimate with anyone, but you can’t remember anyone ever eating you out this good. The way he moves against your swollen clit has you seeing stars, and you find yourself moaning his name, begging for more before he finally plunges his tongue deep inside you. Your hips now move of their own accord, desperate to reach that sweet orgasm that you know he can give you.

When it finally comes, you can barely think straight. A warmth from deep within your core begins to radiate through your whole body, making your legs tremble. You buck against his mouth one final time before you finally release the grip you have on his dark locks.

“Shit,” is all you can manage to say at the moment.

Choso sits up on his haunches, a smirk on his face as he sees you blissed out beneath him. His hands on your quivering thighs, he rubs them up and down, reveling in the softness of your skin. Your body spread out before him like this, he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life.

“I’m not finished yet,” he says as he pushes his underwear down, his hard cock springing free. Precum drips down his hand as he grips his girth and pumps once, then twice, before leaning over to align with your center. He searches your face for any objection; when he sees none, he pushes in.

Choso isn’t religious, but he swears he sees god in that moment. Your warm, wet walls envelop him so fully that he has to take a moment just to be able to think straight.

“Ah…you’re…so…tight…”

He says each word with a thrust, each one deeper and harder than the next. Eventually, your body adjusts to his size and he moves faster, his abs flexing with the movement. Sweat from his chest drops down on your stomach as he pushes even deeper.

“Choso!” You cry out as your arms pull him against you. Again and again he buries his cock in you with an intense, steady rhythm.

“Mmmm….you feel so good…”

Choso takes both your legs and hitches them over his shoulders and as he pushes in, you cry out. His cock is deep now, hitting that place inside you that makes you arch your back in ecstasy.

“Don’t stop…” you plead.

“I won’t…” he answers, “…I can’t…”

He lifts you up to sitting and you both look at each other, breathless and sweat-drenched, his black hair sticking to his neck and forehead. Neither of you seem to be able to form coherent words, so instead, you press your foreheads together. The brief pause allows you to catch your breath and in that moment you have a realization:

The stream of negative thoughts that constantly bombard your brain have stopped. Years of having to rely on yourself had forced you to always be thinking two or three steps ahead, but right now, there’s only this moment with Choso. You take a deep breath and even the air in your lungs feels different.

He leans back slightly and you begin to move your hips, riding his cock as the two of you grind against each other. It’s all too much and not enough - his body as it moves with yours, his staggered breaths. You never want it to end.

Then you feel that tell-tale flutter building up inside you as your second orgasm releases in a spectacular climax; the sensation has you holding onto his neck as if your life depended on it.

When Choso feels you clenching around his cock, it takes everything within him not to cum right at that moment. He barely lays you back down before he pulls out, his warm seed releasing onto your stomach.

You’re shaking, holding onto him just as tightly as you were moments before.

“Choso…Choso…” you whisper his name in the dark.

“I’m here…” is his quiet reply, “…I’m not going anywhere.”

——

The two of you lie on your bed, exhausted and completely spent. You stare up at the ceiling and he does the same, both expectantly waiting on the other to say or do something.

Choso breaks the silence first.

“Use me,” he says.

“What?”

“Make wagers on my fights. Let’s beat them at their own game.”

You’re quiet, contemplative. Surely he’s joking.

When you make no reply, he continues to press the issue. “I’ll win for you. Every time.”

”You can’t guarantee that,” you counter.

”Yes, I can.”

You sit up in bed and gather the sheets around you, your back facing him.

“I’m not going to pull you into my shit. It’s my burden to bear.”

There’s a shifting and you can feel him directly behind you.

“I figured you’d say that. But I’m winning, regardless. You might as well make money off of it.”

Your mind weighs all the possibilities that this could go wrong. What if he doesn’t win and you get deeper in debt? What if the organization finds out you’ve partnered with him?”

But at this point, what other choices did you have?

There’s a warm, strong hand on your bare shoulder.

“You can trust me,” he says, his voice resolute.

There’s that word again. Trust. But trust takes time, and you barely know him. It’s a gamble, in every sense of the word; a gamble you’re not sure you should take.

As you turn to face him you can see that he’s already looking at you expectantly.

“I can tell you how much to wager based on who I’m fighting. This can work.”

Your father had always said that a gamble always takes a little bit of faith. Perhaps it’s time to test that theory. And from the look in Choso’s eyes, you can tell that he’s not giving up on this idea any time soon.

“Ok. Let’s try it,” you concede, before he pulls you back down and into his arms.

——

The following day you walk to the bookie’s office alone. You both knew it would be too risky going together, so he prepped you on what to say.

“My next fight is in a week against a man named Naoya Zenin,” he instructed. “You can earn more by placing a bet on exactly when I can bring him down, so wager that it’ll be a knock out in the third round.”

Choso spends the rest of the week training in the evenings while you work at the clinic; but in that dark time between night and morning, when you take care of the last injured fighter and lock your office door, there he is, waiting for you without fail. You walk past one of the custodians who is sweeping away scraps of betting tickets that litter the floor, while another is mopping blood off the ring. When you finally make it outside you see him standing, soldier-like, just outside the entrance.

He insists on walking you home every night. “For your safety,” he says, “Just to make sure no one is following you.” But the two of you barely make it through the door before you’re both pulling off each other’s clothes and fucking on your tiny bed, or against the kitchen counter, or over the table.

It feels good, being fucked senseless by this man you barely know, letting all your cares and worries wash away with each climax he gives you. You’re certain he feels the same way just by the way he acts around you: protective and gentle, as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

But you know it can’t last; It is a transactional relationship, after all, a means to an end. You and he are both getting something out of this that the other needs, and that’s all there is to it.

By the end of the week, the muscles in your thighs and ass are aching and you wonder if Choso’s body is just as sore from the sexual exploits. Probably not - he is an athlete in peak physical condition, after all.

He tapes up his hands as you busy yourself in your clinic. The week passed more quickly than you thought it would, and now, it’s time to see if Choso’s plan will actually work.

“Are you going to watch the fight?” he asks as he finishes wrapping his hands.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Why not?” He walks over to caress your cheek. “Are you worried I’ll get hurt?”

“No,” you reply curtly, turning away from him in an attempt to avoid his gaze. “I’ll just be busy with the fighters before you.”

”Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles as he wraps his arms around you. “Just admit you’re concerned about me.”

You want to melt into his arms, like you do every night, but your nerves are on edge. You’d wagered over half your savings on this fight, and putting this amount of trust in someone else’s abilities was something you were still getting used to.

(Choso’s welfare was also heavy on your mind, but you weren’t about to tell him that.)

“I’m just concerned about my money, is all.”

“Both me and your money will be coming back to you safe and sound,” he assures, putting his head on your shoulder, “Just listen for the third round bell.”

When he leaves your office, you don’t look back.

There’s a heavy stream of injured fighters into your office that night, just as you thought there would be, but through the stitching and wrapping, you hear the first round bell ring for Choso’s fight.

He’ll be fine, you tell yourself.

But as the second round starts, you’re rushing to the arena.

It looks like Naoya Zenin was able to get some hits in on Choso - a punch to his cheek and a hit to the ribs - but from the bruising on his forearms and biceps, it seems that Choso has been able to deflect most of his opponent’s attacks. Zenin, on the other hand, has a swollen eye and cheek, which you know must be messing with his depth perception. The young man barrels towards Choso, putting his arms around his chest.

“What’s he doing?” You don’t realize that you’ve asked this out loud.

An old man with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth answers. “Zenin is using a clinch against Choso, trying to slow down the action and keep him from punching. It’s a desperate move on his part.”

Zenin holds on tightly to Choso until a referee shows to break it up. Almost immediately after that, the bell rings for the end of the round.

Both fighters go to their respective corners while a bikini-clad woman walks across the ring to announce the third round. When the bells ring again, Choso is already up and making his way toward his opponent’s corner. He punches Zenin hard in the nose and the young man stumbles back, but before he can gain composure, Choso hits him with an uppercut that brings him to the ground.

“Winner!” The referee says, taking Choso by the arm and raising it high in the air.

A knockout in the third round, just as he’d said.

That night, after bandaging Choso’s ribs and icing his cheek, you both go to collect your first winnings.

It’s now a set routine: every week or two, you place a bet in Choso’s favor and every week he takes down another opponent. Sometimes he’s covered in blood just like he was the first time you met him; other times, it’s only a few bruises. But no matter what condition he’s in, he always comes home with you. In fact, he’s practically moved in at this point. His clothes are nestled in your chest of drawers and his toothbrush is right next to yours. It’s a strange kind of domesticity neither of you expected.

Week after week goes by, and by the third month, Choso is still undefeated. His fights are now the headliners of every match night, and wager rates soar in his favor. You still refuse to watch the fights, but you can hear the crowd cheer his name as every opponent meets the same end.

”Blood thirsty.” “Relentless.”

That’s what they call him.

It’s hard for you to believe they’re referring to the same man who stays with you every night; that the strong hands that just brought a man close to death are now gently cupping your breasts, or positioning your hips on top of him. He loved it when you took control and rode his face or his cock, and was always eager to please you.

You keep telling yourself that it’s the sex that always brings him back to your place every night, or that keeps him fighting for you, but when those deep, dark eyes look into yours, you know it’s more than that.

And something changes in your heart as well; you feel empty when he’s away, or when he can’t come home with you right after a fight. Your stomach drops when an opponent gets a good hit in.

Perhaps this isn’t transactional for you anymore.

——

The next night, as another night of fights comes to an end, you hear the door to your office open.

“I’m closing up,” you say as you put away your instruments.

“Just here for your monthly payment,” the blue-haired man called Mahito says, leaning against the entrance to your clinic.

With a sigh, you reach up into your cabinet, take out a small bag, and throw it at his feet.

“Here you go. Now get out.”

”Tsk tsk, all these months and you still treat me so coldly. We should be friends by now.” He opens up the bag to see the bills stashed neatly inside. “Wow, another big payment. Miss Doctor. You certainly are lucky these days. Did a rich aunt die or something?”

“You’re getting your money aren’t you? That’s all you should care about.”

Mahito smiles a toothy grin that makes your skin crawl. “But you’re also our precious employee. I’d hate to hear that you’ve gotten into more trouble.” He slinks towards you and you move backwards, hitting the edge of an examination table. He picks up a piece of your hair and lets his fingers move through it. “Maybe you’re becoming just like your father, huh?”

“Get away from her.”

Choso stands at the entrance, hands in fists and bracing to attack.

Like a child that’s suddenly interested in a new toy, Mahito turns from you and walks towards your lover. “Ha! Like a dog to a whistle! Just the person I wanted to see. Walk with me, Choso.”

The two men walk down the hall and amongst the crowd exiting the arena for the night. Of all the men that Choso has fought these past months, he’s never wanted to beat someone to a pulp more than the man next to him. Mahito is slight of build with wide, child-like expressions, but one look in his eyes and Choso knows that this bastard has killed others just for the enjoyment of it. He’d love to smash that smug face in.

“What do you want?” Choso asks coldly.

“I have a proposition for you. One that could solve all of Miss Doctor’s problems.”

Mahito stops to see if Choso will react. When he doesn’t, he continues. “We want to set up a fight. A big one.” Mahito’s eyes glance towards the man walking beside him. “With you and Ryomen Sukuna.”

That stops Choso in his tracks. “Sukuna’s out of prison?”

“He is indeed. Seems that they couldn’t get that manslaughter conviction to stick because of some kind of legal error.” Mahito smirks devilishly. “And he’s ready for a comeback. What do you say?”

“What does this have to do with her?”

“Oh come on…you think we don’t know that you’ve been helping her place bets on your fights?” He laughs and it makes Choso’s skin crawl. “I must admit, it is rather romantic, and it’s made your popularity soar these past few months. But it’s time for both of you to remember who you really work for.”

Now outside, Mahito takes out a cigarette, lights it, and takes a long drag as if he has all the time in the world. Choso just wants this conversation to be over with.

“Do this fight, and Miss Doctor can consider her father’s debts paid in full, with our thanks.”

Choso’s instincts tell him there’s more to this plan. “What’s the catch?”

A sinister smile crawls across Mahito’s face.

“You have to lose.”

Part 1 / Part 3 / Series Masterlist

Join my taglist!

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#jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso x you #choso kamo smut #kamo choso #sixpennydame punch drunk love #punch drunk love part two

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whitherwanderer · 1 year ago

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Pride Backlighting Tutorial

A few people have shown interest in replicating the pride backlighting I did, so hey, here’s a quick tutorial below the cut.

Enjoy, and happy Pride Month. 🏳️‍🌈

STEP 1 — SETUP

First thing you’ll want to do is find a suitably dark background to bounce the light off of. I use the White Screen housing item dyed Soot Black, available from the Housing Merchant or Apartment Merchant in any of the housing zones for 3000 gil.

I line up 2-3 of them for coverage, but one will do if you're trying to be frugal.

If you don’t have an apartment or an FC room to use, try asking friends, FC mates, or even folks you share a Discord server with. You might even find someone who already has a studio space set up and is willing to let you use it!

Lighting in your studio space should be 0 (though you might have success at 1 as well), so make sure to adjust that or ask the studio owner if they can make that change before you start posing.

STEP 2 — GPOSE

Position your character(s) just a little ways back from the edge of the screen. You want some space between them and the screen so that the lighting can float there without casting a weird circle on the wall.

Hop into /gpose and bump up the “Manual brightness adjustment” to about 120 or whatever level allows you to see your character well enough to pose them. Pose to your heart's content.

STEP 3 — LIGHTS

Here’s the fun part. In the Light tab of the Gpose menu, switch all of your Light sources to Type 1, which has the shortest falloff radius (meaning it doesn't reach as far as Type 2 or 3). I also set all of my lights to one strong color to differentiate them while I worked on lighting—red, green, and blue, all maxed out at 255 (for now).

Swing your camera (still on all default settings) around to your character’s back and up above their head a little ways. This is where Light 1 (red) will go.

Now pan your camera down at about mid-back height and set Light 2 (green) there.

Pan your camera down one last time until you have a nice shot of your character’s butt and set Light 3 (blue).

Spin your camera back around and enjoy this nice little macaw-colored gradient.

STEP 4 — CAMERA

Set your camera angle.

The way FFIXV’s lighting works is partially dependent on how much light is in a shot. It will adjust a lot like your eyes do when you’re entering a dark room from a bright room, or vice versa. Your zoom level and camera angle are going to directly affect the lighting, so set this before you start messing with light strength and color. Sometimes this means weaker lighting will actually light your character better.

I ended up bringing my lights down to around ~160 and boosted the "Manual brightness adjustment" up quite a bit to get lighting I was happier with.

For a straightforward vertical shot, I like to have my Field of View (FOV) at 200 and of course my rotation is set to 90. Zoom in or out as needed. Remember to save your camera angle if you plan to pan around and fix things!

STEP 5 — COLOR

Make it ~queer~.

Take your flag of choice and pick out 2-3 “main” hues. Generally these will be the strongest hues in the flag, if not the only ones. Some flags, like the Pride/Progress/Intersex-Inclusive flag itself, are difficult to replicate for the sheer number of colors that are in it. You can loosely represent a rainbow with some adjustment to the RGB colors, if you’re determined to have a whole rainbow in there.

Shader Note: I recommend picking a shader preset that doesn’t mess too much with color so that colors are represented correctly. You may need to adjust light strength and “Manual brightness adjustment” to be compatible with your preset of choice. Bloom will also heavily affect the way your colors are showing up, so you may need to tone down the bloom FX or toggle it off entirely. This all depends on your preset, however.

If you’re not into RGB math, here are some cheat sheets! Not every flag is represented here of course, but I tried to cover as many colors as I could so that you could grab a color from another flag as needed! Please note that colors will need some adjustment for your own screenshot, presets, and preferences.

And that’s it, y’all! 🏳️‍🌈

(Open this image up in a new tab for more detail.)

These were taken using a heavily customized shader for that nice glowy effect.

#ffxiv #ffxiv screenshots #[ ooc ]#[ tutorials ]#i didn't actually have a tutorial tag but #now i do #enjoy ❤️

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vermutandherring · 10 months ago

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The original building is located in Lviv, Ukraine. Rich Renaissance architectural forms combined with Baroque motifs are the main features of the building of the former Galician Savings Bank. The construction of the savings bank, managed by Zygmund Kendzerskyi, was completed in 1891. Since 1951, the building housed a museum, which today is the Lviv Museum of Ethnography and Art Craft.

The facades are decorated with rust made of broken stone, yellow brick, majolica, forged metal decorations, which were made by the Lviv factory of Piotrovich and Schuman. Attention is drawn to the large metal grills on the windows and the wrought-iron gate, made by the Lviv workshop of Jan Dashek.

The corner semi-cylindrical dome is decorated with Leonard Marconi's allegorical sculptural group "Frugality", symbolizing the economic progress of Galicia.

It's hard to believe but I didn't use any pose packs while making screenshots. I tested the gameplay and, surprisingly, sims sat down at the tables normally, and the waiters delivered the food and cleaned the dishes.

This moment was too funny to ignore it.

The rest of the restaurant is occupied by the bar, but sims hardly hang out there.

More info, screenshots and DOWNLOAD HERE (always free).

Custom content by @syboubou @felixandresims @thejim07 @lilis-palace @teanmoon @sims41ife @pinkbox-anye @blueteas @hydrangeachainsaw @annachibisims and others~

#sims #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 #simblr #sims 4 build #sims 4 historical #ts4 restaurant #sims 4 restaurant #sims 4 community #ts4 community lot #ts4 lot #my sims buildings

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sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast · 1 year ago

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Teach My Mouth a Lesson

Toji x fem!reader

Synopsis: You've caught the interest of your friend's sleazy dad. And he's caught yours.

Content: age gap (reader is mid 20s, toji is late 40s), self pleasure(toji), he's kinda mean, voyeuristic scene (reader watches toji)

Wc: 1.5k

Part Two

A cold iced coffee sat nestled in your hand, pulling it to your lips as you listened to your best friend complain. About her father no less. It was usually the same. "He only calls after I beg him to." And, "Can you believe he missed my birthday again?" You didn't really have room to comment, not having the best relationship with your own father. Plus it wasn't really new information, he was barely in her life as it was. "Doesn't he usually miss your birthday?" You commented and she only pouted. "I thought it'd be different this time." With a sigh, she fiddles with her drink before her eyes widen. "Let's go shopping!"

"Again?" You shook your head, bringing the cold, foamy liquid to your lips. It's not like you really had a say, her hands already wrapping around your arm as she tugged you, almost making you drop your coffee.

You spent the day in store after store, watching as she tried half the clothes on and only buying a handful. You got some cute things too but ultimately were a little more frugal with your money than she was. She was always spending whatever she made as soon as her paycheck was deposited. By the time you'd finished, the sun was setting and she was dragging you, yet again, to a bar. It's not that you were opposed to drinking, it just didn't take much to make you tipsy let alone full-on drunk. Which is exactly what happened.

Both your friend and you, hailing a cab as your combined giggles filled the chilly air. She managed to clumsily tell the driver her address before you two sang, off key, some random song that happened to be stuck in your head.

The cab came to an abrupt stop, the driver giving a glare to both of you before she randomly threw a few twenties at him as you fumbled out of the car. Giggling and bumping into each other as she barely managed to get her keys, it took four tries before she finally slotted it inside the lock. "Shhhh," she giggled. "I don't know if-hicc-my Dad's home." Your alcohol filled brain scoffed at the carefulness. "What's he gonna do?" You giggled, and she joined before she excused herself to the bathroom. You rested yourself against the kitchen counter, head hanging backwards as you watched the ceiling spin.

"The fuck are you?"

A deep voice swarmed into your ears, making you jump as you leaned your head forward. A tall, beefy man stood in front of you. Jet black hair that went in all sorts of directions. But that's not what you noticed first, no. He was shirtless. Thick muscles lined his torso, arms, and chest. Fuck, he was built. He snapped in front of your face, "Hello? Ya deaf? Who the fuck are you?" You swallowed the lump that'd formed in your throat as you tried to talk. Failing miserably. Your brain couldn't even process that this was more than likely your friend's dad. "The girl who lives here…her friend."

"That so?" He clicked his tongue as he ran a hand down his stubbled chin. "Told her not to bring loud ass troublemakers in here."

"Excuse me?" You answered, annoyance making its way into your voice. Standing now, your hands balled at your sides, trying your best to be intimidating. Kind of hard when the man you're trying to scare has at least a whole foot, maybe more, on you. "My house, my rules. Got a problem?" He sneered, looking down his nose at you. In your inebriated state, it only made you more annoyed. "Yeah actually. You can't talk to me like that. You don't know me." He scoffed, "Scuse me Princess, didn't mean to insult the invisible crown you put on that pretty little head of yours."

Your eyes widened, stomach filling with a warmth as it proceeded to do somersaults. What the fuck? Your body was betraying you but you weren't about to let this dick know that.

"Whatever," you responded back, crossing your arms. A smirk played its way onto his lips. You didn't like the look of that. "She come home with ya?" He walked into the kitchen, switching on the light and illuminating the area. Now you could truly see every dip and curve, bump of his muscle. Fuck, who sculpted him? The clink of a beer bottle being pulled from the fridge pulled you from your daze. "Bathroom. She's in the bathroom." He hummed, tipping his head back as he popped the lid off with his hand. His throat bobbed, a few drops of the liquor ran down his chin. But he made no attempts to wipe it off.

"Ya sure you're her friend? Feel like I woulda remembered a laugh that obnoxious."

And there he went again, he truly was as much of an asshole as your friend said. "Like you'd know, you're barely home. A real deadbeat." You crossed your arms, a sick angry feeling filling your gut. He didn't say anything, the silence was deafening until you heard heavy footsteps. Toji moved through the kitchen and stopped just in front of you. His fingers grasp your chin, causing you to gasp as you look up at him like a deer in headlights. "Got a mouth on ya.." His rough thumb pressed against your bottom lip. "Someone should fix that."

A loud crash sounded from the bathroom and he pulled away. "I swear to God, if she broke her fucking neck." Toji sighed, craning his neck to get a better look at the bathroom door. Which in turn, gave you a better look at him. Heat was radiating off his skin, his enormous pecs were practically the only thing in your line of vision. Soon the bathroom door slammed open and you hadn't noticed till now, but he'd moved back to behind the counter. "Shit," your friend giggled. "Hope that didn't wake up my-" She paused, eyes slowly blinking as she assessed the situation. "Dad!" She screamed, rushing over to wrap her arms around his neck. "Can't believe you forgot my birthday," she pouted. Leaving her father to roll his eyes, pushing her off him. "Ya get enough during the year, you don't need a celebration." Your friend only pouted more as she crossed her arms. "S'not fair." Her bottom lip wobbled but Toji didn't buy any of it. "Not gonna work," he replied, taking another generous swig of his alcohol.

"Ugh, asshole." She turned on her feet, heading up the stairs. He shook his head, "Bitch." And he only received a finger in response. What a strange dynamic.

"Ya gonna go with her or stare holes into me for the rest of the night?"

You blinked, eyes coming back into focus. "Like I'd stare at you." You tried your best to sound annoyed, ignoring the lingering heat you felt in your stomach. Had he really grazed your lip with his thumb like that? The feeling was still there. He only hummed, dragging his eyes up and down your body. "Just fucking keep it down ya?" Toji finished off his beer before crushing it, tossing it into the trash and headed back upstairs. And you finally felt yourself breathe for the first time.

'What the fuck?'

You thought, trying to shake it out of your mind as you went upstairs too. Giving about a minute or two after her dad had left, you trudged up the stairs. Any alcohol that was in your system had subsided, leaving you a fuzzy mess. And you couldn't help but sigh when you entered your friend's room, where you found her passed out, face down in the bed. With heavy limbs, you pulled yourself to her bed and laid down. Tugging some of the blankets before falling asleep.

It was roughly 2am when you woke up, the heavy weight of your friend's leg on your stomach had triggered the urge to go to the bathroom.

With a huff, you moved her off and walked out of the room. Eyes halfway closed as you walked to the bathroom. Doing your business with a yawn, sight and hearing both a little muffled and blurry from just waking up. After finishing up, you open the door only for you to pause. Low grunts and moans made their way into your ears. Curiosity burned and you softly shut the door, tiptoeing towards where the noise was coming from; the living room.

Holy fuck.

You quickly covered your mouth to prevent your thoughts from escaping your mouth. There, on the couch, was Toji. Hand slicked with spit as he stroked up and down his thick cock. God, it was huge. How did he even walk around with that thing? You wondered. You couldn't tear your eyes away. His rough thumb pressed against his slit, smearing the beads of pre that formed there around the tip. Long, thick, veins ran up the length, pulsing each time he ran his hand over them. You should stop watching. This was private…and he was an asshole! You reminded yourself. But your pussy had other ideas. Already, you could feel yourself get wet watching as the scene unfolded.

His head rested on the back of the couch. Teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he fucked his fist. You pressed your thighs together, easing the growing ache.

"Ya just gonna watch, or are you gonna join me?"

A/N: There will be a part 2, promise♡

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you

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piscespetals · 1 year ago

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Ruin the friendship

summary: you question ellie's feelings + best friends to 'lovers'

word count: about 11k.

content: angst, slow burn, college au, rich!ellie, fluff, mutual pining

this fic was 17k but i just finished editing it after two days, so i hope that it’s pretty decent. happy reading!

You cursed yourself for the feelings you had grown for your best friend, Ellie Williams.

You were fully aware of how inconvenient it was.

However, you couldn't help it.

Ellie often kept her feelings boarded up, not divulging much of that side of her unless she felt truly comfortable with a person. Therefore, her vulnerability was something that you cherished. She trusted you. A part of her had to care for you, to some capacity, in order for her to be so candid in your presence.

But in addition to the vulnerability, you also appreciated the connection that you fostered with Ellie. It went beyond any typical friendship; it went beyond any relationship that you ever had with anyone. You couldn't help but love that you could be completely vulnerable with Ellie without shame. You loved the way that she stared intently when listening. It didn’t seem to matter how silly your conversations could sometimes be–Ellie was always there to listen.

She had a way of making your worries fade away. Whenever you two spent time together, nothing else was possibly worth your attention. So, of course, you eventually forced yourself to acknowledge these feelings. Because said feelings were not emotions that you usually had for your other friends.

You sometimes believed that you were silly for having hope.

There had been moments when you felt as if Ellie was staring longer than necessary, or touched you a bit too often—and certainly more intimately—than normal friends would. But that thought was always discarded when you two were no longer alone—when you were shoved back into the world of Ellie’s friends—and you remembered that she was quite affectionate with every platonic connection that she cared deeply for.

You would be lying if you didn't admit that you often grew jealous. You wanted to be the only person that held Ellie's attention in a special way. It was ridiculous and selfish. But it was true.

You didn’t personally have anything against Ellie’s friends. They couldn’t help their charisma and nepotism status. They couldn't help their tall height, gazelle-like legs, and international fame.

They couldn't help any of it.

But just because they couldn't help it, didn't mean that you didn't feel any less threatened. You weren’t as graceful as them and certainly didn't feel as magnetic. You liked normalcy and everything that came with it.

Most importantly, you were the opposite of what they were. Frugal, sarcastic, mostly indifferent, somewhat cynical and (as your sister liked to say) 'annoyingly aloof'. You liked keeping a low profile—again, quite the opposite of Ellie’s crowd—and to go with the flow.

The first few times that you hung out with Ellie’s friends, you overheard them voicing your behavior as “arrogant” and “stiff.”

"She's just quiet." Ellie had said in defense. "She only speaks if she’s close to you or if it's absolutely necessary."

And it took a while for her friends to believe that.

You didn't think that this was because you were some extraordinary person who was different and 'not like the others'. In fact, it was the complete opposite. You were quite ordinary, and content with how average you truly were. But because of this, there was a cultural difference between you and Ellie’s friends. The two worlds were so different, that it was hard to bond. You all were merely acquaintances, connected by a mutual friend.

You couldn't help but ponder over this as you arrived at Ellie’s home and rang the doorbell.

The door swung open, creaking because the rusty bolts had yet to be fixed. Ellie was wearing a pair of sweats and a gray cotton t-shirt. She was languid, a sign that she'd just woken up, with sleepy eyes and a lazy grin.

"How many times," She drawled slowly, voice thick with sleep. "...Do I have to tell you-"

"Not to ring the doorbell." You mumbled, bored by the same conversation that repeated every Sunday. "Well, judging by your appearance, it seems like a doorbell is the only way you would have answered." You sent your friend a level glance. "It's 3 pm. How much longer were you planning on sleeping in?"

Her grin widened. "Until you showed up."

You hummed lowly, already allowing your attention span to drift away as you stepped through the doorway. Ellie barely moved to the side, causing you to brush against her, which sent an electric jolt through you.

Just when you felt yourself recovering from her touch, you were overwhelmed by the familiar smell of her. Her natural scent was always comforting; a smell of peppermint and soap, an indication that Ellie was becoming deeply domesticated.

Soon enough, she was locking the entrance door, which caused you to snap out of her thoughts. Feeling incredibly hot in that moment, you heaved a sigh, slipping off your jacket and shoes immediately.

The slight hum of the T.V filled the atmosphere, along with the distant whooshing! of the dishwasher from the kitchen.

"El," You mumbled.

Her hand rested on your lower back, ushering you down the entrance hallway and towards the living room. You shivered at the touch.

"Hm?" Ellie answered, breath tickling your ear.

"Why am I here?"

"It's Sunday."

"Yes." You nodded slowly. "But I mean," You swallowed, trying to sort through your thoughts. "You have so many other friends you could spend your Sundays with."

"I don't want to spend Sundays with my other friends. I want to spend them with you."

Ellie’s hand was slipping from your lower back as you finally stepped into the living room. You left her in an attempt to control your racing heart, grabbing a folded blanket before plopping onto the couch.

"What's all of this about?" She continued. "I always spend Sundays with you."

You nibbled on your bottom lip, thinking deeply about what to say, how to form it into correct sentences, before finally deciding to give up.

Ellie tried to ignore the flutter in her heart as she stared at you. She knew that you'd established their friendship long ago, but she couldn't help but let her mind drift when you looked the way that you do.

Friendzoned or not, there was no denying that you were beautiful. Your skinned glowed in the hues of the sunlight, eyes tender and observant, plump lips pulled into a pout—and slightly raw from your constant biting.

There was so much that Ellie wanted to do to you. It made her core stir, tugging at the explicit thoughts that ran through her mind. It took great difficulty for her to gaze at you without feeling inappropriate.

"If you take a picture, it’ll last longer." You placidly stated, finally breaking the silence. You blinked at her through thick lashes, expression bored.

Ellie’s gaze lingered on your lips before trailing to the rest of you. She wondered how someone so gorgeous could possibly be walking around on Earth without anyone worshiping you. But a wave of appreciation filled her as well. You weren't taken—not yet. She had time.

You were sporting dark gray leggings and a yellow top. The shirt was one of Ellie’s favorites, something that was accidentally mentioned in passing during a night of movie marathons and endless wine.

The stretchy, cotton material hugged your legs tightly, highlighting the curve of your hips and thighs. Ellie didn't want to stare too long—she tried her best to be polite with you—so instead, she looked away.

You felt like you could breathe once her gaze was elsewhere. Usually, you loved to have Ellie's undivided attention. A lurch always appeared in your gut and your palms would clam up. However, Ellie had a way about her that could be intense. It was hard for you to read her at times; to understand what she was thinking or why she analyzed you so deeply. So instead, you were often left feeling self-conscious and flustered, which were emotions that never sat well with you.

Your mouth watered when Ellie finally plopped down beside you. You got another whiff of her scent, which caused your eyes to flutter and your heart to jump in your throat.

You just loved how fresh her entire being was.

Ellie never smelled like a particular perfume. Just newly washed linens and soap, and a hint of peppermint that would waft in her home. She also had an appearance that made her appear fresh. Her skin was always smooth, makeup minimal to highlight the freckles that dotted her face. Her nails remained perfectly trimmed. Overall, Ellie just looked neat and clean; simple. It was attractive.

She was pretty organized. By all means, Ellie's place was never spotless. But her mess was an organized mess. She kept everything folded; dirty clothes designated to one area, comic books stacked in another. The air was always being cleansed with purifiers and fresheners, candles constantly burning, carpet soft and vaccummed. Ellie was the sort of person that kept the pillows fluffed and encouraged coaster usage. She liked to “neatly” pile the dirty dishes in the sink by way of a special order. And she never liked anyone to step inside her home without removing their shoes.

Ellie didn't say anything further on the subject as she momentarily lifted the blanket off of you, crawling under and scooting close.

"It's cold." She mumbled, keeping her gaze on the television.

You smiled softly, heart erupting when her delicate fingers played with yours, before she finally intertwined your hands.

"Is that Ellie?" Danielle asked, nudging you. You both were at your campus cafe, sitting comfortably at the lounge with your school work and iced coffee. You were dressed in cotton sweats and a navy blue crewneck. The pants were rolled up to your knees, a makeshift pair of baggy capris, as you absentmindedly tugged at the collar of your crewneck sweater, peering down at your psychology homework with furrowed brows.

But your attention was diverted the moment that Danielle mentioned Ellie. You snapped your head up, scanning the room lazily before your eyes landed on her.

There she was, walking towards you both in dark washed skinny jeans, a black tee and worn converse. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, displaying her tattooed forearms.

"She’s hot." Danielle added, gawking at your friend. "I always forget how good looking she is."

You snorted at that, but deep down you couldn't help but agree.

You knew how attractive Ellie was. Hell—you wish that you could just forget about her looks for one single second. You missed the early days of the friendship, the days when you could glance at her without wanting to kiss her breathless. The days where you didn't feel the absolute need to always have her skin against yours. Those were the times of simplicity; of ease.

“Now I won't be able to focus.” Danielle whispered. You threw an amused glance towards her, suppressing a giggle. "She’s kinda intimidating." Danielle voiced. "But mean women are hot as fuck. So."

Your lips pulled together at the comment, trying to ignore the thick rush of jealousy that filled you.

But you couldn't really blame Danielle.

Ellie was always prancing around with the aesthetic of a Vans poster model; sporting her button-ups and undershirts and beat up sneakers.

And her jeans.

God—those jeans.

Not a day passed when they didn't hug her thighs in a way that had your mouth watering, wishing you were kneeled in front of her. Ellie had a habit of rolling up her sleeves, showing off her ink-filled forearms that were constantly decorated with veins. She was a fucking dream.

When Ellie arrived, she pecked your cheeks in greeting. Then she turned to Danielle, kissing her cheek as well which caused a flustered expression to fall over Danielle’s face.

"Being a good student, I see." Ellie observed, plopping down on the couch. Her thigh brushed against your right. You became painfully aware of her close proximity and wanted to do nothing more than sprawl out and lay your head in her lap. But Ellie wasn't the type for PDA, and you knew doing that probably wasn't appropriate anyways.

"I have an exam coming up." You sighed, glancing down at the bulky textbook in your lap.

Your mind felt overloaded with facts. You didn't know how much longer you should study. It was important to take breaks and not over prepare; this was something that you were aware of. But your test-anxiety always caused you to stress over school material more than you should.

Ellie hummed, grabbing the textbook and closing it. "You look like you're going to pass out so enough of this." She set it on the coffee table a few feet away.

"I've been trying to stop her," Danielle interjected. "She gets paranoid during exams."

"Yeah, I know." Ellie chuckled, shooting you a small smile.

"I can't afford to flunk anything." You countered. "I need to keep my grades up for my scholarship."

Ellie looked at you, gaze unwavering. "You're a smart girl. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Your mind swam at the compliment. You knew her words shouldn't hold much significance, but you couldn't help feeling slightly light headed whenever Ellie complimented you.

You forced your gaze away. Nervously, you played with the hem of your shorts, mouth pooling with saliva and heart hammering in your chest. What exactly should you say?

It felt silly to be so speechless.

"Well, I have to go." Danielle announced reluctantly.

"Are you sure?" Your eyebrows knitted together.

"Yeah, I have a crap ton of errands to run." Danielle began throwing her textbooks into her backpack. "I'll see ya later. And nice running into you again, Ellie." Danielle made a show of her departure. When she picked up her bag, she leaned over in a way that caused her cleavage to pour out of her shirt and for her ass to round in Ellie’s view. Her fingers wiggled as she waved at Ellie, eyelashes batting and smile coy.

You tried to contain your smile, seeing straight through Danielle’s ruse. If only you had as much confidence as her...

Soon, it was only you and Ellie on the couch. Ellie blinked in amusement, registering the pass that Danielle had openly made. She only met Nicole a handful of times and each encounter seemed to become more flirtatious than the last. Maybe if Ellie wasn't already interested in you, things would be different. But Danielle certainly wasn't you, and the simple reality was that you took up a considerable amount of Ellie’s heart.

Meanwhile, you found yourself worrying about the opposite. Did Ellie like Danielle? Of course you didn't want to have these thoughts infiltrating your mind. But that was the problem with crushes; they caused you to overanalyze everything.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you blinked solemnly. Dread planted a seed in your gut, growing with each passing second.

Now, you were disappointed and even a bit sad.

Why couldn't you fall for people that returned your feelings?

"I did it." You mumbled, voice thick with disbelief, as you stared down at your phone screen. A bold 88% sat in front of you, causing your lips to pull into a proud smile.

A shocked exhale escaped your lips, eyes staring at the website that showed your final test scores—scores that you were incredibly proud of.

Ellie shuffled beside you, pausing the TV show with a frown. Her heart jumped out of her chest as she continuously asked you, “What’s wrong,” yet received no reply.

Did something bad happen?

"I did it." You parroted, this time a bit louder than before and with more confidence. A surprised laugh left you, breathy and short, as you willed yourself to hand Ellie your phone. "I aced all of my finals." You explained.

Slowly, her features morphed into realization. Her eyebrows shot up, a soft grin appearing as she dragged her green eyes to you. "That's great! I told you, didn't I?” Her grin widened. She swiped through your phone, glancing at a few more scores. “I’m so proud of you.”

Oh…

Fuck.

You shifted your weight. There was a sudden desire to leap forward and kiss her until you couldn't breathe. Your thighs clenched and your blinks were becoming rapid. You didn't know what to say without making it awkward—because you could never take compliments well—and also not wanting to make a fool of yourself.

You laughed instead, trying your best to ignore your stuttering heart. Ellie tended to lay her compliments on thick, so you should be used to it by now. But you still stirred with delight nonetheless.

"I don't know. I mean, now that I think about it, not all of them are perfect scores."

"That doesn't matter. You should be proud of yourself. College is fucking hard." Ellie rubbed a palm against her forehead. "I always think about an alternate universe where I might have gone. But then again, I was never really passionate about dreadful schoolwork and the possible debt so who knows. Maybe it's best that I've taken a route like this."

You tried to picture Ellie in school, or at least a younger version of Ellie there.

You smiled, "I think you would have done just fine." You admitted honestly. "The younger you probably would have liked the parties and sorority girls a little too much though."

"Yeah?" She laughed, eyes crinkling and laugh lines deepening. "What about me now?"

You paused, trying to filter through your thoughts. You hugged your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees as you hummed absentmindedly. Ellie thought you looked exceptionally cute while doing so.

“I could see you as an Engineering major. Or maybe Computer Science?" You observed. "....There's a few men I know with that major—kinda cocky, pompous, annoyingly charming and whatnot. You know....sort of like you."

"Hey!" She laughed breathlessly, slamming a pillow into your face.

"Don't take offense." You giggled. "I was just kidding about the charming part."

“Fuck. You.” She laughed harder, ramming you with the pillow again. This time, more aggressive.

You stifled your cackles, biting down on your lip. Ellie found herself focusing on them, and how lovely it would be if she could kiss them. She wanted to lean forward and crash her lips against yours with bruising force, to make you squirm for air and cause your lips to swell.

But she behaved herself, chewing the inside of her cheek instead.

Out of a state of pure adrenaline, you allowed yourself to say, "You're Ellie fucking Williams. You're way cooler than anyone that goes to my college."

"Except for you." Her lips stretched into a cheeky grin. Before she could stop herself, she brushed her forefinger against your chin endearingly. "You’re more brilliant than I’ll ever be."

“Very smooth.” You mused, rolling your eyes as you tried to shake off the compliment. But internally, your insides were knotting with agonizing pleasure.

You didn't usually do this.

You tried to deal with problems on your own. You tried to stay silent about them and fight through your emotions in silence. But you were tired of always being 'strong'.

You were tired of never asking for help.

Sometimes, you needed people to lean on. Sometimes, it was okay to let others comfort you. So this was why you showed up to Ellie's home late in the night.

You suffered from insomnia. You always had it since childhood, and there were certain times throughout the year where it got really bad. It seemed to be exacerbated now since this was your fourth night going through hours without any true sleep.

Your heart was racing, overworked and tired from your lack of rest. A tightening began to form in your temples, alerting you that a migraine was about to creep up, and your eyes were dry. Your body moved languidly and with an alarming rate of exhaustion. You could sleep for eons if only you were given the chance.

You just wanted to be able to rest without a care in the world. To get through your day without terrible bags and heavy eyelids.

So when your clock struck 4am, your first instinct was to call Ellie. You didn't give yourself enough time to think about it or to even negotiate the consequences of calling her so early.

It took her a while to answer, but when she did, her voice was thick and raspy.

Ellie sounded as if she’d just woken from a deep slumber; voice cracking and speech slow. "What is it?" She mumbled, exhaling softly.

Your brain was running a mile a minute as you talked to her.

"No, you're not a bother. It's okay, I promise it is." She reassured, interrupting your string of apologies. She talked to you for a little while longer, about everything and nothing at all, before she finally said, "Come over. You can sleep with me. Hopefully, it'll help…for tonight, at least."

You were hesitant. You didn't want to impose and it'd been a while since you and Ellie had slept in the same house.

But Ellie wasn't back down and with the passing seconds, she was becoming increasingly adamant about you coming to her. You finally gave in.

Fifteen minutes later, you were standing on her porch, opting for a knock instead of the jarring doorbell that you normally rang.

A few seconds passed before you heard the sounds of the bolts unlocking. Then the door was swinging open. Ellie stood before you, wearing boxers and a tank top. Her hair was messy and sticking in different directions, and her eyes were halfway closed.

"Hey." She whispered, stepping to the side and allowing you in.

You were relieved to see her, finally feeling at ease for the first time in days.

That's what you loved about Ellie. Her presence always seemed to calm you.

Immediately, you slipped off your shoes, allowing her to grab your hand.

"I'm so tired." You replied, wanting nothing more than to close your eyes and stay asleep for eternity.

When you glanced at Ellie, you noticed the concern that filled her features. Her lips were pulled into a frown, faint worry lines becoming prevalent on her forehead. "I know." She sighed, not happy by her confession.

Ellie wished she could take away your struggles in times like these. You’d briefly opened up to her before about your insomnia.

Silently, Ellie guided you through her house. The lights remained off, the pathway being illuminated by night lights and the glow of the moon.

Your tongue was heavy in your mouth. You didn't have the energy to participate in conversation, especially if it was just empty words to fill the silence. You simply wanted to enjoy Ellie’s presence and the feeling of her firm grip around your hand.

You could sense that Ellie was exhausted too by her lack of communication. You felt bad for waking her up at such an ungodly hour, and made a mental note to thank her for everything. She truly was the best friend you ever had.

A sigh escaped your mouth as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, rubbing your skin gingerly with a face wipe.

You tried to get all of the sleep out of your eyes, feeling a bit groggy from the deep slumber that you’d just woken up from. You were sitting on the carpet in front of Ellie’s full body mirror, trying not to look gross for the sake of sparing her eyes. You had just showered, wearing a pair of Ellie’s shirt and boxers, and tried not to become extremely giddy at the fact that you were wearing her clothes.

But every few minutes, you would be reminded of it and your heart would perform a short dance break.

Even though this was simply another sleepover, it still caused a wave of excitement to fill you. You liked mornings like these; mornings with Ellie.

You rubbed your lips with chapstick, blinking lazily until something caught your attention.

Ellie was still in bed, trying not to be too obvious about watching you, who could easily pass for her girlfriend right now. She wanted to wake up next to you everyday.

She struggled to tear her gaze away from your face, whose eyes were glazed over and half closed. It was apparent that you were still adjusting to being awake.

This was a dream come true for Ellie. You just spent a night in her bed, and now you were wearing her clothes while getting ready in front of her mirror. You looked completely domesticated at this moment.

Even though she knew it wasn't true, and that you didn't feel that way about her, it was still nice to pretend sometimes that you were hers. Especially during mornings like this.

You were so beautiful that it physically hurt her.

"Did I do something wrong?" You grumbled, still a bit slighted due to waking up from such a good dream. You peered at Ellie through the mirror, noticing that she’d been observing you for quite some time now. A small part of you was thrilled and wanted to jump for joy.

Right now, Ellie seemed to be completely transfixed with you and you were loving every single second of it.

But there was also a part of you that was growing self conscious. Ellie was in one of those moods again. The kind of mood that was slightly unnerving because she was picking apart every one of your features without shame. You knew that she probably didn't mean any harm by it, but Ellie wasn't aware of how intimidating her stare could truly be.

"No." Ellie smiled. "You're just pretty."

You managed to hold her gaze for a few seconds longer. You felt like your breath had been ripped away from you. Goosebumps formed on your skin and a slight shiver ran down your spine.

"Yeah, well,” You cleared your throat, searching through your purse. “If you take a picture, it’ll last longer." You didn’t know what encouraged you to say the next part, but you chalked it up to the weird morning air that was lingering in the room. "....Actually, I’ll take some specifically for you. Since you like to stare."

Ellie was aware that you were joking. But it still made her heart race. The image of you taking pictures for her burned into her brain. The context seemed to be pure on your end, but her thoughts traveled to a land of the filthiest scenarios.

Ellie's lips parted, body washing over with a searing heat. Her hands itched to touch you, and ears longed to hear her name fall from your lips as well as a string of other sounds.

But this was completely inappropriate.

Here you were, looking as innocent as ever, and yet she was dreaming about some raunchy sex scene and tasteful photos of you.

Definitely inappropriate.

Your smile faltered at the weird expression that spread across Ellie’s face. You noticed the veins bulging through the skin of her arms as her hands clenched into fists. Her piercing gaze lingered on you unabashedly, landing on every inch of your features before returning back to your eyes.

You cleared your throat, feeling a warmth pool in between your thighs as you pulled at your shirt collar.

Shit. You were ruining Ellie’s boxers.

"I’ll hold you to that,” Ellie finally replied. “You just have to let me know when and where.”

You blinked in surprise as your lips pinched together, breath catching.

Did you just hear her correctly?

A second passes.

Then two.

Then three.

Ellie forced out a laugh, breaking the silence and trying not to cringe. Oops. Coming on a bit too strong. "Well, gee, don't look so excited." She’s such a fucking idiot. "I was just joking."

Your shoulders relaxed. You swallowed thickly, not failing to notice the aftertaste of disappointment. "Oh."

Of course it was just a joke. How could you ever allow yourself to believe that Ellie would ever be remotely interested in you?

A small piece of your heart chipped away as you turned back to the mirror.

You didn't understand why Ellie was being like this.

You tried to ignore the sound of soft clicks and her pressing gaze. Instead, you busied yourself with socializing. Your toes were dipped in Ellie’s pool, sunglasses resting in your lap with a glass of wine in your hands. The water was heated to accommodate the weather and you were a bit too tipsy to slip into it altogether, but it did feel nice against your skin. Your eyes cut to Ellie who was holding an expensive camera.

She focused on you without any shame, chewing her lip thoughtfully. She clicked away with the camera and captured countless candids. Ellie had a habit of doing this with other friends but she always wanted to specifically take photos of you.

There was a phase during Ellie’s adolescence when she was constantly capturing memories in a photo, and this hobby seemed to have trickled into the time that she now spent with her friends. She had taken numerous photos this past summer, which sat on her computer, ready to be edited and printed so it could be compiled into a scrapbook that would feed her nostalgia in future years.

But tonight was different, because she had never done this with you before. It held a different sentiment that didn't exist with others. Somehow, because of you, it made everything more intimate; more personal.

Ellie struggled with nimble fingers as she clicked a few more pictures, capturing the way you glanced over with surprised eyes and parted lips.

"I'll be right back." You stammered, turning to Rachel.

Rachel nodded knowingly while glancing at Ellie. "She can be a bit annoying with that thing—always trying to capture memories and whatnot."

You hummed in agreement, stepping out of the pool and standing to your feet. You kept your gaze locked on the floor as you made your way over to Ellie, not having the courage to meet her demanding gaze.

The chair scraped against the concrete as you pulled it out and sat in it. Silence filled the air, your thighs slightly trembling before you crossed your legs.

Ellie took this as an opportunity…

Click!

The sound broke the atmosphere, causing your head to snap up. Your jaw fell slack, before a fit of giggles escaped your lips. "Ellie!" You reprimanded, trying to reach forward and grab the camera.

She tutted her tongue, smiling ruefully. "Don't give me that look."

"You're being annoying!" You squealed. She was far from annoying. "...At least capture my good angles."

Ellie held the camera out of your grasp. "You always look good."

"You're supposed to say that, dummy. We're friends."

"Let’s be real,” Ellie muttered, sending you a level glance. “No matter the angle or time of day, you’d look fine.”

You puffed out your cheeks as you shook your head. You were averting your gaze, trying to suppress a smile—and failing. "You're really annoying." You grumbled, folding your arms across your chest.”You know that, right?”

Ellie grinned, bringing her camera back up to her face. She didn't say anything further.

The clicking resumed.

"Will you do the eyeliner?" Rachel asked, turning to you. "Brittany is calling me for something."

Your lips parted as you blinked in a drunken state. "I'm not good at makeu-"

But Rachel was already walking away, "Thanks so much!" And then she was shutting the door on her way out, leaving you and Ellie in the room.

You sighed, taking a sip of your wine before setting it down on Ellie’s bedroom dresser. Your eyelids felt heavy. You tried to walk but nearly tripped, forgetting that you had clunky heels attached to your feet. Groaning, you kneeled down to slip them off, almost toppling over.

A hand wrapped around your waist firmly, steadying you as you tried to gain your bearings.

"Careful there." Ellie murmured, voice low. Her touch left a tingling sensation against your skin.

You clenched your jaw, attempting to ignore your shudders as you stood upright.

Then you glanced down at Ellie, who was sitting in one of her chairs, peering back with amusement.

"You're drunk." Ellie analyzed.

"You are too."

She hummed. "Touché."

You reached over and grabbed a tube of liquid eyeliner. You didn't trust yourself to use a solid pencil; you had never done this before and didn't want to hurt Ellie.

"Just..." You breathed. "Try not to move or blink as much." You rested the ends of your palms against her temples before starting. Your hands trembled and the lines were nowhere near straight. You felt the urge to wipe it all off and start over. You remembered the dot technique that you learned years ago, but it almost felt too late to retry.

"Are you having fun?" Ellie asked. Her breath was cool. "Everyone seems to be warming up to y-Ow!"

Your heart stopped. You dropped the pen, allowing it to fall to the floor as you reached forward, "Oh, I'm so sorry!" You winced.

Ellie’s eye was already beginning to bloodshot as it poured with instinctive tears.

"It's fine." She tried to reassure, squinting her eye shut.

"Clearly it's not." You frowned, dipping down closer. "I knew I shouldn't have done this. I'm really sorry." You blew on Ellie’s eye, trying to dry the teardrops and ease the pain. Why were you always screwing things up? A frown formed on your lips.

"Don't beat yourself up. It was just a few pokes. I'll be fine eventually." Ellie reassured. She fluttered her eyes open, trying to readjust to the throbbing pain and sudden silence.

You then noticed how close her face was. One simple move could cause her nose to brush against yours—could make your lips meet. The sparkle in Ellie’s eyes was undeniable.

You didn’t think you’d ever been in such close proximity with your best friend. This was making your stomach turn.

Without thinking, Ellie grabbed a hold of your chin, acting on impulse. Her gaze narrowed to your lips. She grazed the lower one with her thumb, pressing gently; feeling your cool breath against the pad of her finger.

Your breathing faltered. You couldn't help but lean into her touch, sighing at the contact.

The both of your foreheads met, noses brushing and lips only millimeters apart.

Ellie’s other hand found its way to your hip. You complied immediately, straddling her in a way that left the both of your chests touching.

Your hands trembled nervously. You swallowed, "Are you going to kiss me?"

Ellie licked her lips, admiring how delicate you seemed in this moment.

"I want to." There was a pause. "But it's best if we wait."

Your mind swarmed so much that you had to remind yourself to respond. "I guess you're right."

There's a lapse of silence.

One second passed. Then two.

Then three.

By the fifth, you had noticed a slight shift in her expression. Her jaw was locked, nose flared and eyes fixed completely on you. She was restraining herself and you couldn't figure out why—you didn't allow yourself to accept the glaringly obvious reason.

You didn’t want to give into the false hope.

You couldn't.

You shouldn't…

Ellie was shaking her head.

Why the fuck was she shaking her head?

She was inching forward. Coming closer. Too close. Much too close.

“Ellie…” You whispered, eyes widening.

She stopped, eyes trailing up to meet your stare. “I won't if you don't want me to.”

You swallowed, mouth dry. Your heart felt like it was in your throat, unprotected—entirely too vulnerable.

Her grip on your hips tightened, thumbs rubbing into the skin; reminding you that the ball was in your court.

You leaned forward and closed the distance.

Ellie’s mind fell blank when your lips pressed against hers. She tried to ground herself—to remember how real this actually was.

It wasn’t a dream.

She melted when you sucked her bottom lip with expertise. Her blood rushed, toes curling at the exhilarating feeling of your mouth claiming her.

The kiss turned hungrier, becoming a mixture of heavy breathing and forceful tugs.

Ellie's mind reeled at this position; the fact that you were in her lap and doing something that she never thought was possible.

Her mind became hazy as her stomach pulled. Then, almost as if she had been slapped back into reality, you broke away, allowing you both to catch your breath.

It was quiet for a few moments as you came to a realization of what just happened.

You felt yourself sobering up, eyes widening in afterthought.

Ellie gazed back, heart hammering as she struggled to think of what to say.

Holy shit.

Oh god.

She opened her mouth before closing it. She opened it once again, closing it seconds later in apprehension. Her hands fell from your waist, allowing you to stand with shaky legs. You blinked in bewilderment, trying to come to your senses. But it was a bit harder than usual after what had just occurred.

"I-" You stopped yourself, exhaling softly.

"We just..."

Her eyes kept zeroing in on your lips. Your soft, gentle lips.

“Come back.” Ellie whispered.

You didn't have to be asked twice.

Without any hesitation, you were grabbing a hold of Ellie’s neck, leaning in for another kiss. It made the position a bit awkward, forcing you to bend down and hover slightly over her. But Ellie didn't mind. She didn't mind this at all…

Ellie relished in the sound of your delicate sighs. She loved the way that you were falling apart in front of her. She clinged to you tightly, pressing you further into her lap, which created the perfect amount of friction. She was determined to not let go. She didn't want to ever let go.

You whimpered, allowing her to guide you as you grinded against her.

Her lips refocused on your neck, biting and licking softly as you cooed. It was becoming harder to breathe, harder to think soundly about everything that was happening. Wine drunk was one thing but this kind of intoxication was unreal. You were completely high off of Ellie.

Your mind reeled at this predicament—at the fact that you were in her lap, getting each other off in the most premature way possible. You felt like an adolescent who was stupidly hormonal with your girlfriend. But you couldn't complain, because it beat daydreaming about Ellie’s hands in your panties.

Your mind became hazy as a pressure in your gut built. Ellie’s hands, and Ellie’s lips, and Ellie’s smell, and Ellie’s breath.

Ellie.

You’re best friend, Ellie.

Your Ellie.

"Okay, I'm back! Sorry about that, I..."

You breath hitched. You pulled away immediately as Rachel stormed into the room. Shit.

Ellie’s hand fell into her lap. She flushed at the sudden interruption, averting her gaze to the floor and cursing Rachel internally. Why did she always appear at the worst times?

"Oh!” Rachel grinned, looking at the both of you with a smug expression. She laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

Ellie's jaw clenched. She cut her eyes to Rachel irritably, which caused Rachel to become even more amused.

“No,” You replied. “It’s—”

“Should I come back later?” Rachel added. Her grin had widened, voice thick with amusement. She was enjoying this a bit too much.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Yes. You absolutely should fucking come back late-”

“It’s okay.” Your hands were trembling, an overwhelming sense of doom settling over you at the situation you were now in. “I was just leaving actually.”

“So soon?” Rachel raised an eyebrow. You ignored Ellie’s pressing gaze. “I don’t mind leaving-”

“That’s not necessary.” Your voice was breathy and rushed.

Ellie called your name. You ignored her.

“I’ll see you guys later,” You added.

“Wait, are you sure?” Rachel sounded more alarmed now. “Seriously, I can step ou-”

But you didn't stay to hear any more, rushing out of the bedroom and away from Ellie as quickly as you could.

You didn't want to admit that you’d been avoiding Ellie. In all honesty, you usually were never the type to dismiss awkward situations. You liked to handle them immediately and move on with your life. But that wasn’t what you were doing now.

You spent a few days trying to process it all. You didn't think you were completely oblivious. You may have had your moments, but for the most part you liked to believe that you could pick up on romantic cues. So if you weren't mistaken, it almost seemed as if Ellie was interested in you. But you also weren't sure how to feel about it because the both of you were drinking, and alcohol could make you act like an entirely different person.

A sigh escaped your lips as you stared at your phone, analyzing the text thread between you and Ellie for the nth time today. You missed her.

Going from consistent communication to none was a lot for you to deal with. But you just weren't sure you could handle a conversation with her right now.

You didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the friendship. So, needless to say, you’d been stressed about where the two of you stood.

After a few more agonizing seconds, you finally had the courage to turn your phone off.

You didn't need to be tormenting yourself like this.

Ellie missed you.

She missed your daily good morning messages and infectious laughter. She missed your dry humor and warm hugs.

She knew that she’d have to clear the air about what happened a few days ago. She understood that she shouldn't ignore what happened that night. It was just that she didn't want to talk about this yet. Not now. She wasn't ready.

She was still trying to process it all; how eager you were—the fact that you seemed to want the kiss as much as she did.

But Ellie also had to acknowledge the fact that you both were drunk. Hormones and alcohol can sometimes be the worst combination.

Too many thoughts ran through her mind, leaving her groaning in frustration as she dragged her hands down her face.

She felt an urge to call you; to invite you over for dinner. To hold your hand and joke about whatever predictable soap opera you liked to watch.

But Ellie didn't do that. Instead, she grabbed her songbook and walked over to her guitar, beginning to play a melody on the strings that had been repeating in her head for days.

"Hey."

Your mouth felt dry as you shifted your weight, blinking at Ellie with expectant eyes. Like always, the both of you hugged before stepping back into Ellie’s house.

You slipped off your sandals immediately, arranging them neatly by the coat hanger before shrugging off your purse.

Ellie smiled at the small habit, already feeling her heart constrict despite being in your presence for less than five minutes.

The television was on and playing one of your favorite Soap Operas. It helped relax your nerves. You plopped onto the couch and grabbed a blanket before wrapping it around yourself.

Ellie settled on a nearby cushion, eyebrows furrowing as she tried to think of a way to smoothly approach the conversation. She didn't want to scare you away or make you feel pressured during any of this.

Thankfully, you beat her to it.

You peered at her under your lashes, pleased to see that she was already staring at you. You pulled at your fingers, tangling and untangling them, as you grew the courage to say what was on your mind.

"I don't want to lose you as a friend." You started. Your gaze traveled down to Ellie’s lips, which triggered a distinctive memory of that night. Before your thoughts could get carried away, you blinked and diverted your gaze.

"I don't want that either." Ellie agreed.

"Right..." You nodded, clearing your throat. "Well, I know that we were drunk that night and we both value our friendship, so I'm hoping that we can..." You paused, not wanting to say this.

But there was no other option.

You had to.

"I think we should act like it never happened." Ignoring the way that Ellie stiffened, you shifted your weight. "And I hope we can still be close friends."

It pained you to come to this conclusion, but after debating for a few days, you felt like this was for the best. You didn't want to get your hopes up and ask for something more because what if Ellie didn't feel the same way? So it was better like this. No feelings would be hurt, and there wouldn't be a chance of ruining something great that you two already had.

Blood rushed in your ears as anticipation built up. You couldn't bring yourself to meet Ellie’s gaze, staring at the carpet instead.

"Um..." She hesitated. The silence was heartbreaking. Oh no.

Was she…

"Okay." Ellie’s voice cracked. She bit the inside of her cheek, hoping the ache would replace the one in her chest. She wanted you to speak more, to change your mind—to do something. But that didn’t happen.

You nodded, stunned and unsure of where to go from there.

Instead, Ellie just grumbled, "Fuck. Well..."

You blinked in frustration, already feeling the regret gnawing at your subconscious. “Is that okay with you?”

Ellie’s head snapped back up, eyes boring into yours. “Does it matter? You’ve already said that this is what you want.”

“I-I don’t know. I thought…” Your throat was tightening. “Is it not what you want?”

“I…” Ellie was tugging on her shirt collar, voice thin. Her face was becoming red—eyes swimming. Fuck. She looked like she was going to cry. “Look, I respect your boundaries. Thank you for telling me. I’m comfortable with staying friends.”

A chilling realization was settling within you.

This wasn't the reaction you had anticipated.

This was the opposite.

You may have done more damage than you thought. “Ellie-”

“You're right. We shouldn't complicate things,” She tugged on her collar—harder this time. Your eyes widened at the discolored circular blotches on her neck. How on earth could you forget about any of this when your hickeys marked her skin?

Your jaw clenched, mouth watering at the delicious memory that had been plaguing your mind since Saturday.

“It’ll be like it never happened,” Ellie finished, standing to her feet.

You wanted to say something—to stop her. But the words were caught on your tongue, too heavy to leave your mouth.

Too risky.

Ellie walked out of the living room without saying anything further.

This was going to be harder than you originally thought.

"Shit." Danielle cursed, her features scrunching as she slapped the shot glass back on the table. She shuddered. "That's gross."

You chuckled, swiveling wine in your glass. Personally, You loved the taste of wine. You had champagne a few times as well and didn't mind the aftertaste that it left in your mouth. You believed that it's all about the type of alcohol that you choose. You weren't the type to like hard liquor, so you could understand where your friends' disgust came from. You preferred to keep your taste buds intact while you drank, hence the bottle of red that you ordered.

You were currently at a nightclub, deciding to let loose after a hard week of lectures. You felt a bit stressed. You had a group project that was due soon and you were currently the only one that seemed to be contributing. It had been making you tense and more crabby than usual. Which was exactly why Danielle brought you here.

"...Ellie and her friends showing up?" Danielle asked.

You shrugged. "I thought so. But she was supposed to be here an hour ago."

You also may have been bummed that you hadn't seen your best friend walk through the entrance doors. You’d been waiting all day to see Ellie. Excitement has been building in your gut along with anticipation.

"Hm. Bummer. I was beginning to like your friend." Danielle sighed. "...Was even contemplating asking for her number."

You shoved your jealousy away with a chuckle.

It wasn't your place to say anything.

You told Ellie you wanted to stay friends.

You weren't allowed to be upset.

You busied yourself with people watching. The air loomed with the smell of sweat and smoke.

This was an environment that you grew accustomed to during your early college days. Now that you were in the last year of your college career, you’d shifted to partying at your friends' homes. But you still thought it was nice to go out to a club every once in a while.

There was a specific woman that had been glancing at you for a while now. She was cute with a charming smile. Her eyes were kind, and she always seemed to spare a looks towards you while searching the club. You noticed that the girl was with a group of friends, leaning against the bar with one hand holding a beer and the other tucked in her pocket.

You knew that this woman went to the same university because she was wearing one of the student hoodie's. She was also sporting a pair of dark washed jeans and the sort of combat boots that were loud and clunky; scraping against the ground every time that she shifted her weight.

"That girl keeps staring at you." Danielle announced. "And she's cute."

You smiled, tearing your gaze away.

Yeah, she is.

But where the fuck was Ellie?

Danielle raised her hand, waving in the girl's direction to catch her attention.

Your smile dropped, eyes widening as you reached forward and smacked Danielle's hand away. "What are you doing? Are you kidding?"

"Count this as a favor. You two have been ogling each other all night. Oh, look! She's coming over. You're welcome."

Your jaw set. Then you glanced over your shoulder and noticed that the woman was, in fact, making her way over to you. You glared at Danielle coldly. Well, fuck.

Danielle took no offense, finding the entire situation amusing and laughing instead. "You'll thank me later."

You folded your arms across your chest, huffing. "I highly doubt that I will."

Danielle giggled, covering her mouth with her hand to stop a hiccup. You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

"Hi." A voice interrupted. You looked up, facing the woman who had been staring at you all evening. She had an outstretched hand and a smile. "I'm Julia."

You took her hand, returning the grin and introducing yourself.

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

Julia turned out to be a sweet girl. She was a pre-law student and a year younger than you. She looked extremely pleased when she found out that you attended the same school.

"Do you stay on campus?" You asked.

Julia noded. "I do. And you?"

You shook your head no. "I have my own apartment."

Julia's eyebrows raised at that. "That must be nice. The dorms can be annoying with the partying and all." She made a funny expression.

You laughed. "Yeah, I bet."

The both of you talked about numerous things. During the brief pauses, you tried to ignore the suggestive glances that Danielle would send your way. She was purposely being obvious about her teasing, so it was only a matter of time before Julia would notice.

For the most part though, you surprisingly seemed to be enjoying yourself. There was a short lapse in your mind when you weren't thinking about Ellie—thank god—and just enjoying yourself.

Because of this, you didn't notice Ellie’s arrival. You were too busy laughing at a story that Julia was recounting about your first week of college.

But Ellie saw you immediately.

Ellie felt weird when she observed you laughing with another girl. There was a strong sense of jealousy that was present. Especially when you placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, throwing your head back slightly and laughing at whatever she was saying.

But she didn't want to be that person, not after the agreement you two made a few days ago, so she tried her best to behave.

"She's over here." Rachel said, pointing in your direction.

Ellie had only brought a few friends, extending the invite after she asked you if it was okay. She ended up being late because Damien lost his dog. How he lost his pet, Ellie would never know, but after thoroughly searching and comforting a sobbing Damien, she found the poor poodle sleeping in the basement diner.

Reluctantly, Ellie made her way over to your table. She really wanted to turn around and go back home, especially after seeing you look so cozy with someone else. But she knew that she couldn't, so she opted for lingering behind her friends instead.

You didn't notice Ellie’s presence at first, and was startled when Rachel surprised you with a hug.

"Long time, no see." Rachel grinned.

You let out a shaky laugh. "You scared me."

"Oh, sorry! We were calling you, but I guess you didn't hear."

Naturally, your gaze fell to everyone else. You said hi to Damien and Nina before peering at Ellie.

"You're here. Finally." You grinned. "What took you so long?"

Ellie noded in acknowledgment, lips holding a ghost of a smile. "We uh-"

"Who's this?" Rachel interrupted, wiggling her eyebrows as she tilted her chin towards Julia. Julia took that as her cue, holding out her hand with a smile. She gave her name, along with a few other pleasantries, to which Rachel nodded impressively.

"You're quite the charmer." Rachel stated.

Julia laughed. "I try."

You stood to your feet, allowing everyone to climb into the booth. You grew anxious when Ellie didn’t join, taking a seat across from you instead.

Disappointed, you sat back down. It was odd to be facing Ellie directly while having Julia by your side.

Almost as if it was an instinct, you found yourself nudging Ellie’s leg. You grazed your foot against the inside of her ankle, leaning forward in hopes to grab her attention. She glanced at you momentarily, eyes softening before hooking your foot with hers.

Hi, you mouthed.

Ellie’s gaze lingered on your mouth, noticing the curve of your lips.

…Your lips.

You were wearing a shimmery lip gloss tonight. The kind that made your smile so beautiful that it physically hurt Ellie everytime she thought about it.

Ellie didn't know what she was expecting tonight. She felt silly for not remembering the previous times you went clubbing with her—you loved dressing up on those kind of nights.

Ellie should have prepared her heart to better withstand your beauty. Because God were you beautiful. You were wearing one of those white summer dresses that hugged you just the right way and a pair of sandals.

Suddenly, she felt silly for being jealous of Julia. Why wouldn't anyone want to be with you? It only made sense.

Ellie was simply gutted that the lucky woman could never be her.

She wanted to scoop you away from here, to leave all of this behind. But she knew that wasn't possible, not after you both established remaining friends. Not after you admitted that you didn't have feelings for her.

"I heard you own some property in New York?" Danielle inquired, pulling Ellie out of her thoughts.

Ellie took this as her opportunity to look away from you, refocusing her gaze on Danielle, who was staring back with curious eyes.

"Um," Ellie racked her thoughts for an acceptable answer, trying—and failing—to erase you out of their mind. "Yeah. I do."

Danielle was scooting dangerously close, sporting a shit-eating grin. "That's nice. I've never been to New York."

You rolled your eyes, gritting your teeth at the interaction.

"Do you want to dance?" Julia interjected.

You diverted your attention, growing hesitant.

You felt guilty for completely forgetting about Julia's presence. There was an impish twinkle in Julia's eyes that nearly caused you to grimace. The guilt multiplied.

"I'm not..." You faltered, voice dropping into a whisper. "Julia, you're a nice person. But I don't think I'm necessary looking to be with anyone toni-"

Julia laughed, "It's just a dance. But it's completely okay if you don't want to."

As if on cue, Danielle laughed obnoxiously loud.

Your pinky twitched. You were struggling to ignore the pressing thought of Ellie and Danielle.

Feeling annoyed and slighted, you nodded, wanting to separate yourself from the table as soon as possible. "As long as it's just a dance." You replied. "Then I'd love to."

Julia grinned.

You felt ridiculous.

Julia was with you on the dance floor and none of it felt as enjoyable as you initially thought it would be. Because Ellie was all you could think about.

Your mouth became dry and the heavy realization of it all threatened to come crashing down any second. So you turned to Julia, stating, "I'm going to get some water and head back to the table." You had to lean in closer than you would have liked, due to the loud music.

"What?" Julia frowned, not hearing you.

"I should head back to the table!" You repeated, jutting your thumb behind you in the direction of your friends.

Julia's features morphed into realization and she nodded. It was almost as if it all dawned on her at that moment that you weren't enjoying herself. "Well, it was nice meeting you." She concluded, with a wink and warm smile, "I think I'll head back over to my friends anyway. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“You too.” You nodded, sighing in relief.

“And you should tell her how you feel,” Julia added.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Who?”

“Your friend…back at the table.” Her head tilted in the general direction of where Ellie was. “The one you can't keep your eyes off of.”

Your breath hitched, hairs standing on the back of your neck at Julia’s exposé. You opened your mouth to reply, but she was already giving you a goodbye hug. Then she shoved past a group of people to make it to her own destination, leaving you alone on the dance floor.

Subconsciously, you walked over to the outside bar, sitting down on one of the stools and ordering a water.

While the bartender grabbed your drink, you tried to allow your muscles to relax in the stillness of the night. Faintly, you could hear the booming bass from the music inside. But besides that, it was far more quiet.

Your eyes stung as memories of tonight's shit show replayed in your mind.

You were kind of mad at Danielle.

In actuality, you knew that you didn't have much of a reason to be upset with her. You hadn't told any of your friends what happened between you and Ellie, or even admitted to them that you had feelings for her. It wasn't Danielle’s fault for not knowing where you stood with it all. It was on you—which made you more frustrated. Danielle was a pretty decent human and would never go after Ellie if she knew how truly you felt. You were just projecting your anger because deep down, you were mad at yourself.

Your reverie was broken when a hand slipped around your waist, lips brushing against your temple and whispering, "Where did that girl go?" It was Ellie.

"What girl?" You asked, playing stupid. You pursed your lips, not bothering to face her.

You didn't want to admit it but you were also upset with Ellie. You couldn't erase the image of Danielle flirting with her out of your mind. It infuriated you.

You and Ellie were just friends, it was something that you both agreed to. Ellie could do whatever she wanted with whoever she wanted. But it still didn't make you any less upset. Because you were jealous, and that's what jealousy did to people sometimes.

"You know who.”

You frowned. "Go back to flirting with Danielle."

There was a hesitancy before she mumbled, "Are you like, upset with me or something?"

You rolled your eyes, guilt and shame and all things bad bubbling up inside of you. "Just go, El."

You knew you were pushing her away—this wasn't fair.

You weren't being fair.

But you needed her to go away before you say something you regret; before you ruin things.

Fingers wrapped around your elbow gingerly, dragging you off the stool and away from the bar. Ellie brought you over to a more discreet section of the patio, away from wandering eyes and eavesdropping bartenders. Once you both were a considerable distance from surrounding people, she let go of you.

With each passing second, her shoulders began to deflate more. She was drinking in your features with worry lines in her forehead. Then she was sighing, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Her eyes shut momentarily, but she didn't say anything more, hesitant to address the elephant in the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek, tearing your gaze away from her as your mind swarmed with countless apologizes. You should be saying many of them right now. But your tongue stayed planted in your mouth as the hammering of your heart kept you from uttering the words.

When you glanced back at Ellie, you noticed that her eyes had opened.

"Don't do this." She muttered. Her eyes were overwhelmingly vulnerable. "You don't get to do this. Not after saying you wanted to be friends."

I lied, You wanted to reply. I thought you wouldn't feel the same so I got scared. I chickened out. I ran.

But you couldn’t say anything.

Ellie’s shoulders were rising and falling more sporadically as time passed by. It looked as if she was trying to catch her breath, eyes never failing to leave your face. There's a hint of panic in the way that she was observing you…searching for an unknown answer. Her mouth opened—an attempt to break the painful silence that was brewing—before she clamped her lips shut, rolling them inwards.

You watched her step back as she ran her hands through her hair.

“I don't want to play games with you.” She confessed. Her voice sounded unnatural to your ears. Strained. "I deserve better than that."

You shifted your weight, growing uneasy by the way your muscles were screaming to step closer to her. You wanted to tell her about the way your soul yearned for her.

But you were scared.

So fucking scared.

Your mouth betrayed your wish. Instead, they formed to utter, “I understand,” and nothing more.

Ellie swallowed audibly and the lines above her brows deepened. You could hear the instability of her inhales as she looked at you with a question in her gaze.

“That’s all you have to say?”

It was far too devastating to hold her stare. You made yourself look away. “I...”

Ellie inspected you with such intensity that you practically felt your face melting off.

She didn't speak and she didn't move.

The whistle of the wind was the only distraction from the agony nestling inside your heart. Your eyes began to sting, lump lodging in your throat in a way that made it unbearable to speak.

You tried to listen to the chirping of crickets; anything to convince you that staying silent was the better option—the only option.

But then Ellie took a step forward and your resolve cracked instantly. Before you could stop yourself, the smallest sliver of vulnerability urged you to look into her eyes.

She was beginning to notice your inability to hold a proper conversation and took another step closer.

“God, you're so…” This time, she was quieter. “I can never understand you.”

You swallowed thickly. “Ellie…”

She looked down, pressing the heel of her combat boot into the tile floor. In doing so, she rocked her weight backwards and then forward. The motion of unrest caused her cologne to waft towards you.

It'd been a while since you’d seen her so ungathered.

“Listen,” She said. The sound of it vibrated low and powerfully. It sparked a part of your soul to jump. “I lied. I can't just be friends with you.”

You took a step back.

She took another step towards you.

“What?” You faltered.

“You heard me.” Unshed tears pooled into her green eyes. “I’m telling you that I need you. In every sense. Does that hold any significance for you?”

You found interest in the buttons of her tan button up, forcing away the part of yourself that welcomed her confession.

You were struggling to fully understand her. Your hands trembled.

“Will you look at me?” She urged.

You could only bear to keep your gaze on her shirt.

A thumb came in contact with your lower lip. It was a slight graze but managed to leave a trail of fire in its wake. The rest of her fingers soon followed, brushing along your jawline before tucking underneath your chin. She nudged you to lift your head, willing you to peer at her.

She was so painfully close.

“You can't say stuff like that,” Was your response.

“Why can't I?”

Because you were scared. Because you didn't deserve her. Because you had already hurt her—already ruined everything. “Because I’ll want you back. And I can't want you. Because…” You exhaled shakily. “I can't risk the possibility of losing you altogether if this were to end badly.”

Ellie sighed softly, squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds.

“Our friendship is something I’d never want to ruin. It's safe and it's what we know.” You continued. “Why risk losing you to feelings that I wasn't sure you even reciprocated? How could I live with myself if I ruined everything by telling you how I really felt?”

Ellie’s eyes opened, her cheeks beginning to flush pink. "Oh. That's not..." Her expression had transformed into a mixture of understanding and something strange. “Baby-"

Her other hand managed to find its place at the nape of your neck. Your knees buckled at the pet name.

“You could never lose me.” She added. Her thumb caressed the apples of your cheeks. Those words alone caused you to become completely undone.

You felt like your lungs could finally break open from their cage. Your exhale was heavy, delight crashing into you like tide waves.

It was too wonderful to believe.

“You drive me mad, you know.” Ellie continued, sucking in a breath. “I want you, all of you, everyday. I have never ached to be near anyone so much until I met you. I can accept it if you still want to stay friends after this. If that's truly your wish, then so be it. But I had to tell you. I couldn't let you walk away tonight without letting you know that I’m deeply, desperately, in love with you.” Her lips trembled. “You're so scared about losing me, but have you ever thought that I’ve been feeling the same? I fucking need you.”

Tears began to stream down your cheeks. You soon realized that you were trembling because you were crying.

Without any more reservation, you allowed yourself to grip both of her forearms; mostly to steady yourself but to also have another semblance of closeness to her.

“Tell me again.” Your voice was nothing but a warble. You sniffed, tightening your grip around her forearms in hopes to stay grounded in what seemed like a cruel sweet dream. It didn't matter that you were at a bar, outside of a nightclub that was full of rowdy college students. It didn't matter that your friends were probably wondering where the hell you and Ellie disappeared to. The only thing that matter was Ellie. Your Ellie. “...Tell me that you love me.”

Ellie’s features softened. A tear spilled from her eye, trickling down her cheek. She managed to scan every inch of your face, a slow smile curling onto her lips. “I love you.”

The sound that came out of you was an ugly combination of a sob and laugh.

Ellie swallowed thickly, wetting her lips as she unabashedly looked directly into you. “I’m asking you to give us a try. To give us a real chance.”

All of your doubts crumbled and was replaced with a fiery certainty.

“Ellie, I love you.” Your voice trembled with thick emotion. “Of course I will. I’ve just been so scared, I thought it would be better for us to-”

Before you knew it, Ellie was leaning forward and crashing her lips onto yours.

You sighed at the contact, gripping both sides of her face feverishly. Her chest pressed against yours, causing a gasp to escape you.

Kissing Ellie was effortlessly sweet. She was gentle and passionate, yet able to exhibit incredible vigor that made your stomach flutter. Her hands traveled away from your cheeks, bunching into the material of your dress and holding you with immense regard.

And just when you felt as if you were about to burst, she became agonizingly tender. Your mind buzzed at the feeling of her lips; it was like floating weightlessly in water. You longed to give her more of you; even though it couldn't be possible to give her any more than what she already had.

Then she pulled away. You noticed that you two had quickly fell into a rhythm of panting, catching your breath from the sublime moment that you had just shared.

Ellie wiped your last few tears and kissed you again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

Until you knew for certain in your heart, that there was no other place in the universe that you were meant to be.

#au writing #fanfic #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x reader #ellie x you #tlou2 fanfic #ellie tlou2 #college #piscespetals writing #ruin the friendship #friends to eventual lovers #besties #fluff #light angst #gayyyyyy #mutual pining

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