#i’ll make OC much more interesting

[kimvvantae]

saudade!tae is probably my favorite character i’ve ever written. idk i just love to write lore about him. if saudade ever becomes an actual novel i’ll go soooooo much morr hardcore on his backstory lmao

[arolesbianism]

Blue and not fully human gang rise up

[magpigment]

i think it’s so funny to be a writer with multiple stories that you flesh out and develop and world build and then never write.. like yes i have an incredibly intricate explanation for how this worlds religion works based on how each individual fantasy culture and race i made perceives the afterlife and deities of the world (that i also made up). yes there is deeply ingrained stigma even lasting into present day in my story that still impacts some of the characters more than others. yes it’s also a metaphor for modern day religious fanaticism and the way it others people for no discernible reason. yes there are also unicorn people and phoenix people and basilisk people and werewolves and vampires and necromancers and sirens and hydras and giants of all different varieties and yes i love this story dearly. no i won’t ever write it. why? reasons.

[nionom-art]

A few people have been asking about my Miraculous Coccinella AU, wondering if I was still working on it. The short answer is yes.

The long answer is under the cut:

So. I’ve been working on this au for a long time now. It was kind of my passion project I was keeping under wraps due to the fact that I had a lot of fun plot twists in mind and all that jazz- you can kinda see some of those plot ideas in my character concept designs above. I have full scripts and even a comic page done for this au- however- I don’t think I’ll be working a lot on this in the near future. I love the story and designs I’ve come up with, but I’ve honestly just been more interested in other fandoms and stories recently, including one about my current ocs (they have become my obsession recently).

I’ve really hated season 5 of Miraculous in all honesty (the handling of Chloe, Luka, and Gabriel is quite honestly atrocious), and I haven’t had as much interest in this au as season 5 progressed as a result. I’ve been quite frankly falling out of love with the show, making my motivation to work on this project not as high. This coupled with the fact that I’ve been rather burnt out lately has resulted in me posting less often.

I guess what I’m saying is that while I might post a few things here and there for Miraculous Coccinella (and miraculous in general) I don’t think it will be frequent or a full blown project or anything. That being said, feel free to ask me any questions regarding this au- it was my baby for a while and it still kinda holds a place in my heart. Maybe one day I’ll do something with it, but for now, I’m going to keep it on the down low. Thanks for reading if you got this far, haha.

[twice-inamillion]

The Company

Taeyeon and IU’s Plan 

Smut and Story Building (Sex, Deep Penetration, Defloration, Creampie, Fingering, Blowjob) 

Chapter 3

4,315 Words

(IU finds out that Taeyeon has been looking through her phone that filled with her sexual experiences with her boss. Taeyeon is convinced by IU to get a taste and comes up with a plan. Taeyeon gets more than what she can handle. OC gets a little surprised but is more than happy to accept it.) 

A few weeks pass, and every time Taeyeon stays at IU’s apartment, she notices hints of your sexual relationship with IU. Anything like cum covered panties, cummed covered skirts and marks on IU’s thighs and chest. 

She can’t hold on any longer; she needs to confront her friend about the type of relationship the two of you have. Taeyeon tries to find the looks for the best moment to talk to her about this. 

“I’m going to ask her today; I can’t wait anymore. It’s awkward every time I see the two of them together.” 

Taeyeon arrives earlier than usual and prepares dinner for the both of them, “Some pasta would be nice and easy to do. She changes into some comfortable clothes and gathers all the necessary items to make the meal. 

“Taeyeon, I’m home.”

“Welcome back. I made dinner for us.”

“Aww, that’s nice of you. Let me change.”

“Okay, I’ll set the dinner table.”

Taeyeon sets the dinner table and waits for IU to take a seat before serving her. “What’s the special occasion?”

“Nothing much. I just got tired of ordering takeout and wanted to make something homemade.”

“Haha, you should do this more often.”

“I’ll try, only when I’m done early. Anyways, how was your day? Don’t think we have talked comfortably in the past few days.”

“Hmm… nothing much. Just the same old thing. You know, helping with ranking the trainees, setting up meetings, and doing my duties as the CEO’s assistant.”

“What kind of duties do you have?”

“Just busy stuff like going over his daily and weekly schedule, setting up his meetings, sometimes bringing him his meals or some do simple tasks.”

“Seems like he has you overworking yourself.”

“Ah, no, that’s not true. He also has Irene as the secondary assistant. We share the tasks here and there. It's not that bad, actually, once you get used to it. But there are times when it does get busy, and I come home tired.”

“Is he nice to you?”

“He can be a bit tough, but he treats me nice. He asks how I’m doing, buys me nice things like jewelry, and gives me spending money.”

“Seems like the two of you have more than a boss-and-employee relationship.”

IU smiles and tries to play it off, but Taeyeon teases her, “Omg, are you and your boss something?” IU can’t help but grin, causing Taeyeon to push deeper, “I kind of figured the two of you were a thing. Is it actually a thing or work sex?”

“Haha, why do you want to know? Are you perhaps interested?”

“No! I just wanted to ask since you have been acting a bit differently.” 

“Hmm.. okay. I’ll tell you, but don’t tell anyone else, okay?”

Taeyon is now completely invested in finding out their relationship and eagerly nods, “Yeah, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Okay, remember how I told you that my family has financial issues?”

“Yeah, of course. You said that your family was struggling really back, especially your mom.”

“I wanted to help her somehow, so I contacted some people and became his personal assistant. This meant I had to service him at the workplace and him “personally.” I knew it was bound to happen and did it for my mother’s sake. So I had my first time with him. I thought I would hate him, but he’s really caring. He and I aren’t dating; it’s just a work relationship. I’ve been with him for a bit over a year and learned that it’s better to take the initiative and serve him than for him to act on it. If he has to ask for it when he might fuck you based on his mood, and trust me, that might be a bit dangerous. So I learned to read his mood and service him.”

“Oh wow. I didn’t know it was that serious.”

“The pay is really good, and the benefits are much better. This is one of the reasons why I have this apartment, and my mom is living in a nice house.”

Taeyeon hesitants but asks, “By the way, how far have you gone? Like, what do you do?”

“Well… the first few times, it was just regular sex, then it was a handjob and blow job. As time kept going, we would do more stuff, like me giving him head in his office or having sex in there too.”

“Have you two done anal?”

“Ahh, I haven’t, but he’s done it with someone else.” 

“Who?”

“Irene, his other assistant.”

“He fucks her too?”

“Yeah, and let me tell you this. Their relationship is much different than mine. She didn’t want to service him and learned the hard way. Anyways, are you interested?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t try to hide it, Taeyeon. I know you looked through my panties in my hamper and went through my phone.” 

Taeyeon panics and lies, “No, I didn’t do that.” 

“Don’t lie, that phone is something that he gave me. It screen records every time someone tries to log in. So I know that you’ve been looking at my videos of him fucking me.”

Taeyeon panics, and it shows. IU reads Taeyeon like a book and teases her by asking, “Are you interested in him?”

“Ahh, no! I’m just interested.”

“Lies, I’ve heard your moaning during the night. I know that you’re sexually interested and frustrated.”

“No, you’re wrong.” 

“I mean, if you are, and I know you are. It will make my job easier. There are so many things I have to do, and if he’s busy with you, then that means I have to spend less time servicing him. What do you think?”

“Umm… I don’t know.”

“I’ll even help you. I’ll tell you the best time and even get him a bit tipsy for you, haha.”

“You’ll help me?”

“Yeah, you’re my friend. It’s not like I have anything to lose. Look, I’ll even show you some pictures from today,” as IU pulls out her phone and shows Taeyeon a video of you getting your cock sucked and you cumming in her mouth and face. IU notices Taeyeon slide her hand between her legs and rubs herself under the table, “Don’t tell me you don’t see yourself being in my place. Just imagine his hot cum on your face and going down your throat.”

“Hmm… you said you’ll help me, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of everything. You just got to follow my advice, and you’ll be good.”

“Okay, I’ll do it,” causing IU to smile.

————

“Is that the last schedule for the day?”

“Yes, sir. You’re done for the day. Are you planning on dining out?”

“No, I just want to go home and rest. This was a busy and long weekend; I wanted to have a drink and relax. I’ll probably go out tomorrow.”

“Would you still like me to service you later tonight?”

“Hmm… actually, how about we share a drink?”

“It would be my pleasure, sir.”

You gather all your belongings and head to your apartment with IU. The two of you wait for the elevator and can’t help but notice the large height difference between the both of you, almost a foot apart. The elevator door slides open, and the two of you enter and scan your keycard to the top floor. 

Arriving at the top floor, you walk down a long hallway towards the single, large door on the floor and insert your code to enter, “Finally, back home.” The two of you take your shoes off, leave your items on the table by the hallway, and sit on the large couch. 

“Would you like me to serve you the usual?”

“Yes, please.”

IU heads towards the kitchen and to the alcohol cabinet and grabs a bottle and two glass cups. She pours the both of you a drink and walks back. “Here you, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I like your initiative, Ji-eun. You’ve become a reliable assistant.”

“No, thank you, sir. For the opportunity to serve you and the help to my family.”

“Ahh, yes. How’s your mother doing?”

“She’s doing well, thanks to your generosity.”

“No need to thank me; it’s all due to your hard work.”

IU grabs the bottle once more and pours another drink as you enjoy the view from the top floor of the building. Watching the sunset is one of your favorite things after coming home from a long day. 

“Would you like me to order you takeout, sir?”

“Sure, that’d be great.”

“What would you like?”

“You can choose.”

“Okay, I’ll place an order.”

You place your drink down and change into something more comfortable while waiting for the food to arrive. IU sets the table, cleans a bit of the living room, and places your items where they belong. “Would you like another drink?”

“Yeah, I could go for another one.”

She serves you another drink, and you take small sips as you continue to enjoy the view from your living room couch. You and IU have a small conversation about some of the schedule for next week and about the process of the trainees when IU’s phone pings. “Sorry, sir. It’s the delivery person; I’m going to go down to the lobby and meet them. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

You walk to the kitchen, open the fridge door, and grab a couple of beers for the meal. You wait for IU to arrive and check your messages. When you hear the door ring go off, signaling that IU was coming inside. 

“Sir, I’m back.”

“Nice, I grabbed a couple of beers for the two of us.”

“Sir, I met Taeyeon in the lobby and asked her to join us. Would that be okay with you, sir?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“She’ll be coming up in a few. She just went to get changed.”

“Okay, let's get the table ready for three.”

After a few minutes, the doorbell rings, and IU opens the door for Taeyeon. “Hello, sir. Thank you for allowing me into your house.”

“It’s no problem; you’re welcome anytime; come take a seat.” 

Taeyeon sits on the couch across from you," Would you like a beer?”

“Yes, I’ll take one.” he grabs a beer and opens it. She crosses her legs, and you catch a glimpse of her not wearing any panties. You try not to look at it, but you can’t help but admire her thighs. 

“The pizza is ready.”

“Thanks; actually, do you think it would be better to eat here in the living room since it’s pizza?”

“We could do that,” says IU.

“I’ll help you, Ji-eun,” standing up and helping bring the plates to the living room table. 

With everyone sitting down, you all grab a slice of pizza and a beer and start to eat. You ask Taeyeon about her week and if she’s comfortable as the vocal coach. 

“I like it here; the place is beautiful, the staff is nice, and the trainees are very hardworking.” 

“That’s good to hear. Better than SM, huh.”

“Haha, yeah, it is,” she laughs.

IU mentions that she’s been hearing positive feedback from the trainees ever since she started and congratulated her on a good job. Taeyeon smiles and puts her feet on the couch, giving you a better view of her private area. 

You try not to look, but you can’t help your curiosity and eye her every time she moves her legs. IU notices this and asks, " Taeyeon, would you mind passing me a napkin?”

“Sure,” and she reaches for the napkin, allowing you to get a glimpse of her cleavage under the oversized shirt. IU looks at you and smiles, knowing that the plan is working.

“Like what you, sir?”

You turn around to IU, “What do you mean?”

“I asked if you liked what you saw.”

You see IU’s smile and turn to Taeyeon and see her smile. “What’s going on?”

IU says, “What do you think, sir? She wants you.”

“Is that true?”

“What do you think? I wouldn’t give a show to just anyone,” says Taeyeon.

“Hmm… So the both of you planned this.”

“You catch on quick, sir.”

“Okay, I’ll play your game. Taeyeon, you must be aware of the type of relationship I have with Ji-eun, right?”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Calling her bluff, you stand up, walk towards her, and extend your hand. “Alight, since you want to play, we can go right now.”

“R…right now?” looking at IU, who only smiles.

Knowing what will happen, she takes your hand and follows your lead to one of the bedrooms. The both of you hear a small chuckle from IU, and her saying, “Have fun,” before you close the door.

“You want to play? Let's see if you’re game,” and sit on the one-seater coach in the room. 

Taeyeon stands there, confused about what you mean. “Strip.”

Taeyeon is caught off guard by your command and hesitates. You repeat it once more, “Strip.” Understanding you’re serious; she stands before you crosses her arms, and removes her oversized shirt and then her loose, small shorts. 

In front of you is a completely nude Taeyeon. She has small breasts and a clean, shaven cunt. Without saying a word, you scan her body, from her feet to her head. She turns around and gives you a view of her behind, “Amazing. I can’t believe a member from Girls Generation is standing in front of me, nude.”

You signal her to approach you and say, “Come over here.” You grab both her hands and her right in front of you. You lick your index and middle finger and rub her lower lips. She moans at the sudden touch of your warm fingers against her cold skin. Using your two fingers, you trace and swirl the outside of her lips until you feel her moist. 

You remove your fingers, pull her towards you, and pick her up. She suddenly yelps from being picked up and notices you walking towards the bed. You toss her onto the bed and watch her reaction as you spread her legs wide open, giving you an embarrassed look. She tries to cover her pussy, to which you tease her and say, “I guess you’re all talk and no game,” giving her a smirk. She gets offended and removes her hands out of pride, responding, “I’m not all talk; I can back it up, too.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I’ll give you one last chance to back out.”

“Don’t need it, I can play along.”

“Alright. Let’s play.” 

You remove your shirt and shorts and toss it to the couch. Taeyeon’s heart begins to race as she’s focused on your boxers and sees you pull them down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You pull her towards you and her folds once you say, “You have a really nice pussy right here.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I can’t wait to fuck you,” grabbing your cock and pressing it against her lower lips. She pushes your cock away and says, “Wait, you’re not going to wear a condom?”

You stop and are surprised by the most ridiculous question and reply, “What do you mean a condom? I only fuck, raw. Why? You don’t want to?”

No, I was just wondering. I heard that it’s important to wear a condom.”

“I check myself regularly, so I’m good. Are you?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Okay, then we’re all good to continue, right?”

“Yeah,” turning her head around and thinking of all the possibilities of fucking without a condom. 

You grab your cock with your right hand and give it a few pumps and press it against her lower lips. You look at Taeyeon and see her face of anticipation, waiting for your next move. With your hardened cock against her entrance, you smack it against her folds right before inserting yourself inside of her. 

Taeyeon groans from the pain of your cock making its way through her tight walls. “Fuck… you’re so tight!” as you shove more of your cock inside her. Due to the pain, Taeyeon grabs onto the bedsheets with all her might. 

Suddenly, Taeyeon screams when you shove your whole length inside of her in one go. “Wait…Wait… pull out, pull out, you’re breaking me!”

Seeing her in pain, you pull out your cock, and caress her cheek, “Are you okay?” Taeyeon replies, “You’re too big; I thought it was going to die. Give me some time to get myself together.”

‘Wait… don’t tell me” as you look down and look at the tip of your cock covered in a thin layer of red. 

She nods her head in tears and says, “Yeah, it’s my first time.” You’re surprised by her comment and would have never known that this would be her first time, but the idea of being her first man makes you hard again. 

You grab a tissue, get yourself cleaned, and reassure Taeyeon that you’ll make it pleasurable. She nods and wipes the tears off her face before you move on to insert yourself once more. 

With your cock at the entrance of her, slowly insert your length; Taeyeon groans from the slight pain in her walls and begins to stretch to their limits, “Ow… you’re still too big.” You get on the bed, get on top of her, and begin to kiss her neck and play with her breast as you move inside of her. 

Taeyeon slowly forgets about the pain and focuses on the pleasure of your kissing and her tits, “Hmm, yeah… that feels good, don’t stop.” You move towards her breast and take her nipple into your mouth as you play with the other. She continues to moan and let free of her nipple and continue to thrust your cock.

Taeyeon wraps her arms around your neck now that she’s comfortable with your length. You increase the pace of your thrusting, causing her to moan and even laugh, “I can’t describe the feeling, but it feels so good!” 

“Just wait, it's going to feel better,” as you place her into a mating press. With her legs pushed back, you do a strong thrust, each other’s pelvis smacking against each other. “How do you like that? Can you feel it deep inside you?”

“Ahh.. yeah, I can feel the difference. My womb is taking the shape of your cock!” Her hands move towards her breast, pinching and twisting her nipples as she feels her orgasm coming. 

Seeing her pleasuring herself, you can’t help but tease her as you focus your focus on her clit. Taeyeon yelps, asking you to stop because she can feel an overwhelming feeling approaching.

Instead, you place it between your thumb and your index finger and give it a nice pinch. This causes Taeyeon to instantly cum, as you feel a rush of fluid covering your cock. You pull out and enjoy the scene of her orgasm as her body violently shakes. You watch as she rides her orgasm and decide to tease her, so you insert your middle finger and begin to thrust inside her cunt. “Don’t… don’t do that, you’re going to make me come! Stop!” It didn’t take her long for her to reach her second orgasm. “Ahh, fuck! I’m cumming!” as a gush of fluid sprays and her body spasms. 

“Wow, I didn’t have to do much. Seems like you don’t relieve yourself often, but that won’t be a problem now that I’m here. You’re going to be a good fucking with me, but now that you had your fun, it’s my turn.”

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I need to get my fill too, you know.” 

“Please… wait,” not letting her finish her sentence as you insert your cock inside. She throws her head back and screams, “Oh fuck! You’re going to mess me up inside!” Her walls tighten around your cock, not used to having your massive length inside of it. 

“Your walls want to squeeze my cock, fuck you feel so tight.” You start to pump your cock inside her slippery walls, feeling all the grooves and crevices of her meaty flesh. 

You listen to the beautiful sound of Taeyeon’s moaning as you thrust inside of her for what feels like ten minutes. Taeyeon is a complete mess; her hair is ruined, and her body is all sweaty. The tipsy sensation has disappeared, and let her know that you’re about to reach your peak, “Fuck, I’m about to cum.”

“Wait… what did you say?”

“I said I’m about to cum. Where do you want it?”

Puzzled, she tries to come up with an answer, and it is taking longer than what you’re used to. Not wanting to hold it in any longer, you decide where you want to bust your load. Feeling the weird feeling of your cock throbbing your cock she says, “Outside, do it outside,” but it's too late.

The amount of time she wastes on deciding, you end up making the choice for her. You pull your cock out and do one last thrust when you hear her say she wants you to cum outside. Instead, all she hears is, “Fuck! I’m cumming!” Her eyes widen when she hears your comment, and she is bombarded with a large wave of cum flooding her womb. 

She cries, “So hot! Pull out!” That only makes you want to shove your cock in deep and paint her womb white. 

After finishing your orgasm, you notice Taeyeon looking at her bulging belly, filled with your load. You pull out and watch as she presses her fingers on her stomach, causing a large amount of cum to ooze out. “I told you to do it outside.”

“You took too long, so I made a choice. Plus, I normally cum inside of my girls, so there shouldn’t be an issue, right?”

“But I’m not one of your girls. I’m not IU or Irene.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You are not them, but since you took my hand, you’re mine now.” 

“You don’t own me.”

“Haha, says the person with the cum of their boss inside of her.”

She sees your smirk and realizes that you’re right; she does have her belly full of your cum right now. “Don’t smirk.”

“You know, I’m right. How about another round?”

“Another round?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you’re up for it.”

Taeyeon’s pride doesn’t let her back down; she wants to wipe that grin off your face, even if it means going another round. She looks down at you and notices your hardened cock. “Alright, I can do another round.”

“Haha, alright. Let's change the scenery,” as you extend your hand. She takes your hand, and you walk her to the balcony. She looked down and saw the campus and trainees walking in groups back to their dorms after a long Friday night. 

You kiss her nape, which causes her to shiver, and her nipples harden. “Put your hands against the railing.” 

“Why?”

“Don’t worry. Just let me lead, and enjoy.”

“Okay.”

You raise her right leg up in the air, and with your left hand, you position your cock to her entrance. “What are you do… ahhh” as she feels your cock penetrating her cunt once more. The both of you spend the whole night fucking throughout the penthouse, the balcony, living room, kitchen, and shower. Every time you move locations, you make sure to make the two of you get to orgasm. 

————-

Taeyeon wakes up on the bed, looks around, and notices you are gone. She gets up and looks at the many stains throughout the bed, which makes her remember the night she had. She takes a cold shower to wash the stains of fluid on her body, “Ugh… I feel so full.” She presses her stomach and notices a white cream liquid oozing out of her. Pressing her belly harder, a gush of cum squirts out, covering the shower floor cum, “Fuck…that’s too much.” 

After her shower, she changed into her clothes and walked out to see you in the living room, reading a newspaper. She walks towards you, “Good morning,” to which you reply, Good Morning, Taeyeon.”

As she walks towards the kitchen, she turns around to ask if she could grab something to eat when she sees IU on her knees. “Ji-eun! What are you doing?” 

IU turns around with a smile on her face and replies, “Good Morning, Unnie. I made breakfast, by the way.” 

“Why are you going down on him?”

“Oh, I’m having breakfast too. Want some?” as she holds your cock in her hand. 

“No!”

“Come on, it's good.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

She looks at her friend’s satisfied face and remembers the videos she has masturbated to before. She looks at you and back at her, giving her a reply.

You woke up this Saturday morning full of energy. After going on a run early in the morning, you return and enjoy the breakfast your assistant, IU, made for you. You give her a treat as a reward for a job well done. 

You turn, you’re done reading your newspaper, set it on the table, and enjoy the sight in front of you. “It’s nice to see two friends sharing a meal together,” you say with a slight grin.

[pinksilkribbons]

COLLAGE: yan! classmate

CW/TW: non-consensual candid photos, elijah has a shrine of [name], mentions of praying to and basically viewing another human being as god, small implication of a boner, general yandere stuff ig.

You guys my last post on Elijah got quite a few likes I’m so glad y’all like him!! He’s my least developed OC so i decided to write more on him and develop his character. I’ll post some of my others soon!

Ever since he bought his new polaroid, Elijah has discovered a new side of himself. At the beginning he’d only taken pictures of you and hung them around his closet.

But eventually…he grew tired of it. Not of his darling, no! Of course not! But…it was rather difficult to sneak photos of you without getting caught. Not to mention the majority of them turned out blurry anyway.

Something needed to change.

He didn’t just want pictures of you at school. He wanted pictures of everything. When you’re angry, when you’re sad, when you’re eating. Pictures in normal clothes instead of a school uniform for fucks sake!

In the beginning school was the easiest (and only) way he could gain access to you, but now it’s proving to make his job that much harder. There’s too many risks involved.

With a dramatic sigh he shut his closet door, making sure to click the padlock into place. After hanging so many pictures of you on his closet walls he decided it would be wise to invest in a lock.

He knows it isn’t normal. Taking pictures of people without asking isn’t normal. Being so deeply obsessed with someone isn’t normal.

But not being normal doesn’t make him bad. Just…more passionate!

“Hey mama?”, He asks, trudging down the stairs.

His mother turns away from her phone with a quick glance his way. Her head tilts up as if to silently ask him what he needs.

“You aren’t using these magazines anymore, are you?”

A small stack of magazines with a bunch of ‘trendy fashion’ labels catches his eye. On the front cover a young lady with blonde hair is posed in a field of flowers. The lady, however, isn’t what he’s interested in.

She laughs playfully and watches Elijah pick up the stack. “Well, not exactly. But why do you need them? I’ve never known you to be interested in fashion.”

Elijah feels a rush of red to his cheeks. A part of him feel dirty. Perverted, even. It’s clear his mother is implying something dirty, and while she isn’t even wrong, he’s probably planning something much worse than whatever she’s imagining right now.

It takes a few good seconds for his mind to come up with a plausible excuse. “W-well, I’m not interested in fashion! I just need some material for this project in art class.”

Luckily his mom doesn’t question him further. She definitely rolled her eyes at him though, clearly not believing his story.

As soon as he makes it back to his room Elijah is quick on his feet. He rushes over to his closet so quickly he almost falls over. A pulse of excitement gushes through his body as he begins to unlock his closet door.

The password to which is his darlings birthday, of course!

Upon opening the door, one wouldn’t suspect much of anything. Clothes, shoes, some random boxes, but nothing out of the ordinary. The real magic is in the far right corner, at the very bottom of the wall.

So far his collection is pretty small. The few photos he does have are all taped beside one another, carefully placed to ensure nothing is crooked or overlaps with the other. This small corner is Elijah’s entire life.

He lives and breathes [Name]. In fact, every morning, without fail, he finds himself in this exact position; sitting on his knees, admiring his darling. He bows his head and prays to your existence.

The amount of sheer joy your being grants him should never be taken lightly. Elijah is a good boy. He’s thankful. And He proves it every single morning.

“I feel kinda bad, cutting up her picture like this”, he mumbled to himself. His hands carefully maneuvered the scissors, making sure to save as much of his darlings face as possible.

Believe it or not it came out pretty good! Next he needed to cut the cover from his mom’s fashion magazine, which proved to be the real challenge.

The blonde lady on the cover was dressed in a blue flowy sundress. From the moment he saw it Elijah knew that dress was meant to be his darlings. The chances of him getting a real photo of you in this dress were zero, but he’d like to think he’s quite creative!

To finalize his creation he glued [Name]’s head onto the models face, successfully dressing her in the beautiful gown. Just imagining her in such an outfit had his heart racing and pants tightening.

It made him feel proud knowing he found a way to grow his collection while also reducing the risk of getting caught. Next time he visited the library, Elijah would be sure to pick up a few books on collaging.

You truly did bring out a new side of him. Who knew he was so artistic?

[bunnwich]

It's Supposed to Be Fun

(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 

Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.

This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.

It’s supposed to be fun. 

Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.

So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?

Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?

To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 

Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.

If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.

To my friends who have been harassed: 

I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.

Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.

We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.

Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)

Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.

Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.

The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.

The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  

And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.

I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.

It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.

[s-4pphics]

click!: in frame. 2 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you crave redemption more than love. [idk au]

WORD COUNT: 11.5k

WARNINGS: professionalphotographer!ellie, strugglingartist!oc who’s black, ANGST!!, daddy issues, SA/victim blaming :(, homophobia LOL, anger issues\violence, bad parenting, anxiety, joel standing on bidness, FLUFF!! :3, SMUT… MDNI, ellie bottoms YAAAS, virginity mentions, jealousy😂, dubcon (they’re high), more fingering, brief mentions of cunning lunning, squirting, mult. big Os, err dassit

A/N: YYYYAASSSSSSSS hi… bye 

APRIL, 2014

Happy birthday, babe, you whisper in your girlfriend’s ear, arms wrapped around her neck from behind. Ceniyah’s giggly thank yous fill your ears and heart as you press smacking kisses on her cheek. 

I made you something… You reach behind and grab the rolled-up poster paper sticking out of your backpack, making sure Ceniyah doesn’t turn around. She seems giddy and your heart soars. You hope that all-nighter was worth it. Please, you pray to yourself, please love it. 

Close your eyes and gimme your hand, you say and she listens, palm open in front of your face. You place the scroll in her hand and she gasps. She whips around to face you, shock written all over her, and you giggle. She unrolls the painting and her head instantly falls back, tears jerking behind her glasses. 

Are you seriously crying right now! You pull her tight to your chest and she sobs into your neck, C’mon, baby, stop cryin’! S’okay. You coo and her arms tighten around your waist. 

D-D’you like it? Your face burns when you whisper. 

Are you fucking serious! She squeaks into your neck, It’s beautiful, baby, I love it. T-Thank you—

I love you so much, you mumble, and she says it back. 

You haven’t slept at all. Your body’s going to collapse soon. You hope it’s not during this phone call. 

You ogle at the small card in your hand, pressing the digits into your device before hitting the call button. It rings twice before a bright voice answers. 

“Hello, this is Lisa Meyers speaking. How can I be of service?”

… Interesting intro. “Good morning, um, Professor Meyers?” 

“Yes, how can I help you?” 

“I… we spoke at the coffee shop yesterday. About the… assisting art professors alumni thing.” 

“Oh, of course! How are you, dear?”

“I’m good. Um… I was wondering if you’d have some time to speak with me about it... If that’s cool.”

You can hear her wide smile through the line, “More than cool! Would you be able to come into the office tomorrow?” 

An extra day in the city wouldn’t hurt (it would), “No problem. What time were you thinkin’?” 

“My mornings are always open! How does ten sound?” 

“Sounds like a plan. Uh, thank you,” you say with twitchy fingers. 

“Course, hun! I’ll put you in and I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

You never expected to end up back here. 

The campus art studio looks exactly the same, only now the old portraits, sculptures, ceramics that were lined up on shelves of the display case are all replaced with new, nameless ones. You’re not used to seeing projects that you couldn’t attach a name to in the classroom. Your university years never feel that long ago, but the randomly placed structures are proof of your long-term absence. 

Time is an illusion… Or you’re getting old as fuck and about to be lowered into the ground. Freshmen make you sick(affectionately). 

Professor Meyers explained the position well enough for you to manage on your own. The work you’re doing isn’t difficult: oversee, assist in grading, oversee some more, oversee, and guide. You’re practically getting a check for being the already observant individual that you are. It’s a steal! 

The position only lasts around a month, but Professor Meyers was convinced that it would only take someone as talented as you (her words… although you agree) a week to get on her toes. You vowed to bring your sketchbook every day from here on out, both to yourself and to her, in case you get the inkling of inspiration that you desperately need. 

The job’s a small win. That’s all you could ask for right now. 

Fuck all that shit you said at the start of the week. TAing fucking sucks. And you still haven’t had any inspiration despite all the efforts from the students! Whenever you pick up a utensil, you stab through your paper. You’ve officially lost your touch. You’re a regular bitch with no talent! What the fuck is going on! 

You’ve had numerous breakdowns in bathroom stalls since Monday, and you’re bound to have another one in the next fifteen seconds. Why the fuck did so many students leave their filled water cups on the fucking tables. Guess who has to clean all that shit up! You! Fuck freshman(unaffectionately). 

You’re so happy the halls are empty in between rotations. No one needs to watch you sobbingly wipe down tables splattered with paint. 

After Professor Ronson’s room is tidy, you start prepping the board for the next rotation of students. They’re learning about anatomy today; There’s bound to be at least three students that scribble tiny dicks in the corner of their starter pages. You hate it here. 

You open the drawer to retrieve all the sharpeners, only to find the container completely empty. You’re sick of the animators not putting shit back. You begrudgingly make your way back down the hall and into Professor Lacey’s room… You should’ve never left.

Your lungs constrict with your gasp and you almost drop your keys. 

A just as shocked Ellie gawks back at you, laminated name tag with YEARBOOK dangling from the camera strap around her neck. 

What the fuck.

Ellie’s either hallucinating or dead. Yeah… She has to be dead. The haunting of your email was too much and she died and now she’s seeing shit—

An angel disguised as you is staring back at her, fist clenched under the sleeves of your sweater, brown eyes just as stunned as hers. Ellie barely has time to gather words before the chains hooked onto the pockets of your jeans jingle as you step out of the room and scurry down the hallway. Ellie’s feet are flying before she can even register their movements, hot on your trail as her camera bounces on her chest. 

She manages to get close enough to grab your bicep, ignoring the stuttering in her heart when she sees the former light in your eyes replaced with something darker. The flourishing storm in your pupils is uncontrollable. 

Ellie drops your arm when she realizes you won’t run, “W-What are you doing here?” 

Your gaze is locked onto the tile squares on the ground. “I-I’m, uh… just enjoyin’ the weather— “

Ellie’s brows pull downward, eyes flicking towards the badge wrapped around your neck. Do you work here? “We’re indoors.” She mumbles dryly. 

“Nothin’ like… the spring rain hittin’ the windows, am I right?“ You huff with a nervous smile, eyes flitting around the hallway as you search for an escape. Ellie’s not having that. 

“We needa talk.” 

You sigh, “I can’t. I’m working.” 

“So am I. Take your break,” Ellie grabs your wrist and drags you back down the hallway, leading you to the bathroom and pushing you into a stall, locking the door behind her. 

Her voice is quiet when she presses, “The fuck are you doing here?” 

Ellie expects you to snap, to push the same questioning back onto her, but you don’t. Your mouth gapes like a fish as you stumble over words. Ellie’s eyes soften when she sees a shaky hand come up to pin a loc behind your ear. You’re shaken up and she instantly notices something off. Your demeanor has shifted immensely since she last seen you and it’s making Ellie’s stomach twist with discomfort. She's never seen you this stunted. 

“What.” Ellie asks when you mumble to the floor. 

“I’m sorry about the email,” You sound winded, “I thought… I dunno. I’m sorry about everythin’.” Your lip starts to quiver as you ramble, “I would’ve never come if I knew, I’m sorry— “ 

… What the hell are you talking about? And why are you crying? 

You sniffle and wipe your tears with your sleeves and Ellie’s fingers itch to comfort, to dry your face herself, but she doesn’t. She watches you weep into your palms for what feels like hours, the air of the restroom suffocatingly tight. 

“I didn’t mean to ruin anything you h — had going on, okay? I’m sorry… I’ll leave right now! You’ll never have to see me again— “

Your sobs are stressing her, “G-Gimme your phone.” Ellie blurts. 

You're already digging in your pocket for your device to unlock it, “W-Why— “

Ellie snatched it from your hand, heart pulling when she sees a photo of younger you being carried by a woman shoved in your case. The same face that was littered all over your apartment, “You wanted to talk so bad, right?” Ellie presses her new number into the pad and calls herself, “You have my number. My…” 

When she looks up, her words get swallowed up; Your eyes still manage to glow under the… horrific bathroom lighting, glittering like stars in the late night. She clears her throat to catch herself, “My shift ends at four. Call me any time after that.” 

Ellie hurries to unlock the stall before leaving you in the bathroom, heart in her throat as she heaves all the way down the hallway to the lounge, shaking her hands to get the jitters out. 

She knew she should’ve never accepted a call from the alumnus association. Fuck the yearbook. 

You clock out with a heavy, anxious heart. 

Three students came up to you and asked for advice on their starter shapes. They were a bit upset when their circles didn’t come out perfect, and you almost cried. It was too sweet. Your bag bounces off your back as you descend the staircase to exit the building. The droplets hit your hood with fever as you skip to your car. You jump into the driver’s seat to turn the heat on, teeth chattering from the evening breeze. 

You check the time on your dash and… it’s way past four. You hope Ellie’s willing to meet. You dial the most recent number and tremble as the phone rings. She answers after the second tone. 

“Hello?” 

She sounds so relaxed, and your shoulders unlock, “… Hi. It’s… me?” 

A lengthy pause, “… Me who?” 

You hide a snort, “Um… ex-roomie?” She chuckles lightly. “Hi.”

“… Hi.” You whisper, “Did you, um… still wanna talk to me?” You think you hear the click of a lighter. 

“Mhm. I’ll send you where I stay at.” 

“Okay… I’ll see you soon?” 

“Yup.” And with that, the line goes dead. Ellie’s location delivers not even a minute later. Her hotel isn’t far from here. . . and fuck, it looks like wealth. Your nerves are nowhere near settled after your last attempt at reconciliation, and paranoia is itching beneath your skin. 

You open your GPS and blast your screamo playlist, hollering your way down the street with your windows down, rain be damned. 

You’re burning holes through Ellie’s hotel room door. 

You haven’t knocked, you haven’t rang. . . you're not even sure if your text of arrival went through. You just stare at the peephole with a clenched jaw. This big bag of Cool Ranch Doritos is doing an excellent job as a stress ball. It’s bound to pop from your grip soon.

Your bladder almost lets loose when the door gets pulled open, nostrils instantly hit with wafts of that forbidden flower. You’re pulled through the small crack by a strong grip before the door is shut and locked behind you. 

Ellie faces you, bare arms on display, and leans back against the door… in those fucking grey sweats. After all this time, they still cause damage to your soul, “Sorry. I don’t wanna get kicked out.” 

“It’s… you’re good.” You point behind her, trying not to gawk at her tattoo, “How’d you know— “

“You breathe loud.” She says simply, tone hushed and raspy. She nods behind you, “Sit down.” 

She follows you to the lounge chairs that face each other. You sit, still tense, suddenly back in therapy, “I-I brought you somethin’.” You push the crumpled bag of chips towards her as she relights her joint. 

Her pink, doe-eyes flit between yours and the bag before she mumbles, “Thank you.” 

“No problem…” You awkwardly set them on the windowsill, swallowing your guilt and deciding to take initiative, “I… I know you have a lot of things going on and I don’t wanna take up too much of your time… I’m just…” 

The loud splattering of raindrops is nerve-wracking, “I wasn’t… I didn’t treat you well. College was a very hard time for me and I didn’t really know how to deal with it without being a bitch—” 

Carbon leaves her nose, “Is that your excuse?”

“N-No, no! I’m not… I’m not tryna avoid blame. I was terrible and you — no one deserved what I put them through… I-I’m really sorry, Ellie… From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry.”

Ellie’s silent. You have no idea what she’s thinking; She could be plotting to get you kicked out of her room right now and you wouldn’t know. Her stare isn’t angry, it isn’t anything… she just watches you. Every squeeze of your hands, bounce of your knee, every tic photographed in her memory. Just like before. 

“Why're you back on campus?” 

You exhale the breath you’d been holding, “Um… I gotta, like, TA job, I guess. With the art profs.”  

“Still doing art, then, I guess.”

You stare down at your lap, “Yeah. Trying to.” You croak. 

“Trying?” She asks, brows furrowed. Your shoulders bounce in a shrug. “I, err, hadn’t made anything in a while so… yeah. I thought it’d get me back into it.” 

“Are you?” 

“Hm?”

“Are you back into it?” 

“I don’t know yet.” 

“Why were you so upset when I moved out?” Ellie’s tone shifts into something much more delicate, ready to crack and bleed open at any given moment. You can’t tell her, your brain bellows over the pleads from your heart. You can’t tell her how much you missed her!

Your jaw slacks dumbly as you search for a believable explanation, mind blanking under her scrutinizing stare. 

“I was drunk. I-I don’t remember…” 

“You were drunk and don’t remember.” You cringe at her tone. 

“Ellie… I don’t wanna— “

“Don’t wanna what? Actually be fucking honest?” Your babbles are silenced as she rants. “You reached out to me and you can’t even answer one question honestly. Why’d you even come?” She seems so disappointed in your response, but what can you do? Tell her how every part of your body yearns to be next to her? How you almost collapse when you saw her for the first time in what felt like an eternity? How manipulative would that be after everything you’ve done?

Ellie’s index finger jumps on the armrest as silence takes over once more. She’s deep in thought, it seems, teeth nipping at the skin of her lip. 

“Ellie— “

“When I moved out…” She repeats sternly, “you told me you didn’t want me to go. Why did you say that?” 

It’s on the tip of your tongue: because I’m weak and I like you! I’m sorry I didn’t fight! I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I’m sorry! 

“B-Because I didn’t want you to go…” You whisper between sniffles, wiping your nose with your sleeve. 

“Why's that?” 

“I… really liked having you around…” You chose your words very carefully, but they’re not a lie. “You’re… you’re really nice.” 

That seems to satisfy her a little, “I’m really nice?” Ellie’s brow quirks, a tiny smile blossoming on her face. 

“And funny.” You sob, “Like, I laughed a lot.” 

“You’re funny, too,” Ellie says awkwardly while scratching her ear. Your heart pulses. 

Her eyes search yours, “I didn’t know how I would react when you got here. The thought of seeing you really… fucking freaked me out.” She scoffs to herself, and your shoulders begin to droop. “But… um...” She pauses and your pulse pounds in your neck. Tears brim in your ducts. This is when she tells you to leave. To fuck off. To drop dead, for fucks sake—

“I’m glad you reached out.” 

You gawk in disbelief before your bottom lip trembles, “Really?” You ask meekly. She simply nods. 

“Me, too.” You’re really trying not to cry right now, but the softness in her gaze isn’t helping. She’s too sweet. You change the topic before you say something you’ll regret. You point to the bag of chips, “I really hope you like that flavor. I just grabbed it because I was overthinking.” 

“I don’t know why you bought those. I still owe you a bag from what I remember,” She grabs them, squeezing the end until the other side pops open. She grabs four ships and crunches them all at once before extending the bag to you. You follow her lead and munch to your heart's content. 

“I was never mad at you, y’know.” Ellie sets the bag down and reignites her roach. “I wasn’t, uh, innocent, either. We both fucked up,” She puffs and hands it to you. You've never smoked bud before, only stole a couple of Abby’s edibles a while back. She vowed never to smoke with you since you’re a tweaker. 

You accept the charred-to-hell baby jay and stare at it. You shrug, “Wasn’t worse than me. How do I do this without burning my finger off?” 

“Err… just breathe in and hold it.” She instructs. “Have you never gotten high?” 

“I have. I don't— “

“Oh, yeaaah. Non-smoker. Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you mumble before bringing the remnants up to your lips and sucking in. Nothing happens. Ellie snickers, “Not like that. It’s not a fucking lollipop. Just, like, fill your cheeks up and hold it.” 

… Are you an idiot? “I don’t know what that means.” Ellie cackles like a witch at your lost expression, nearly falling over in her chair. Your cheeks burn and you try again, cheeks expanding to fill in the smoke. The second you inhale, you start choking, eyes bulging out of your skull from the burn in your chest. 

Ellie finds your near-death experience fucking hysterical as she hollers from her seat. Tears stream down your face and the veins in your neck are bulging as you gasp for air. You’re never doing this shit again. Your lungs finally decide to spare you when Ellie passes you water from her dresser. You gulp that shit down like no tomorrow as Ellie’s giggles dwindle. 

“What the,” cough, “fuck— “

“Fucking baby lungs,” Ellie mumbles with a grin. “You’ll be fine after a couple tries.” 

You chug more water, “Girl… fuck you.” You gasp. Ellie’s grin turns cocky when her head tilts. 

“Fuck me?” Her voice lowers and goosebumps rise on your skin. Your heart stops in your chest and your gaze falls to the floor as your tummy swirls in delight, cheeks fiery. You stand and Ellie sits up at your sudden alertness. 

“Um… Like I said, thank you for taking the time to talk to me today. I really appreciate it.” Ellie stands to grab your arm when your feet slowly start backing towards the door. 

Her smile drops, “I-I’m sorry. I was just kidding—” 

“No, it’s fine! It’s not you! I just, uh… y’know what I mean?” 

“… No.” She mumbles, “You don’t… have to go yet. You just got here.” She chuckles weakly. 

“I just… don’t wanna… pry.” You whisper like it’s shameful. Ellie’s head shakes in denial, “You’re not! I’m… inviting you.” 

Your eyes beg her to understand where you’re coming from. It’s not like you don’t want to, but the two of you just got back cool three seconds ago. The last thing you want to do is force yourself back into her life. Your relationship needs time to marinate and heal before anything else happens… if she allows it. 

“I… I still miss Pickle?” You suggest with bright eyes, and Ellie’s soften despite her confusion. “Would it be okay if I see her?” You ask quietly. 

Her mouth turns upwards, “How long are you in town?” 

“I don’t know… These hotel bills are runnin’ my credit in the fucking mud.” You sigh. 

“She’s with my dad right now. Come this weekend. I’m outta here on Friday, anyways.” She suggests, cheeks glowing in the dimming room. You hope Ellie doesn’t notice your dejection at the mention of her father… It still stings. Her eyes are so hopeful, meadows flurrying with excitement… and you can’t say no. 

“…Okay.” 

“Yeah?” She confirms, smile widening. You nod. “She misses you like crazy.” Ellie notes and tears get to cooking. You think about Pickle every day. Little munchkin. 

“I miss her, too.” You sniffle. The hand that rests on your bicep slowly slides down your sleeve, closing around your wrist. Not strong, but her hold is steady. Ellie whispers your name. 

“Hm?” 

“I’m glad we’re… okay.” Your heart soars with adoration. Her eyes explore your face in admiration, and your body glows. 

“Me, too. Thank you.” Ellie’s gentle gaze drops to your lips and you stiffen. Your hands clench when she moves an inch closer. It kills you to move away, and an inkling of hurt overcasts in her forest. She lets you go and backs away, “Sorry— “

Your head shakes desperately, “S’okay, I just think we should… move… slower?” You never fail to sound like an alien who just arrived on Earth, but Ellie seems to get it. 

“Yeah, I… yeah.” Ellie stares at her sock-covered feet, red dusting her cheeks. You try to hide a smile while she walks you towards her door. She opens it for you, propping up against it. 

“See you Friday?” You throw over your shoulder and Ellie grins. “See you Friday.” She parrots. You can’t stop cheesing even after she closes the door. You make your way back into your driver’s seat, heart bleeding with relief. 

MAY, 2014

Her record is clean! I would’ve never expected this from such a great kid, your professor says to your father, But violence, especially to this extreme, is completely unacceptable—

What about what he did to me! You shout, and your father glares at your tone, He put his hands on me first! H-He—

Your body shudders in disgust at the recall of your classmate touching you the way he did. You were on your way to class when hands enclosed around your chest in a tight squeeze, all oxygen leaving your body. It was abrasive and made your skin crawl, and you swung. Your arms moved on their own until you were on top of him, his nose gushing blood while his friends attempted to pry you off. 

There was laughter when he groped you. So many people — students that you see every day — all watched it, and no one came to your defense. 

Your principal sighs with his palms up, I’m just trying to get to the bottom of what happened—

No, you’re not! I already told you what happened and you’re tryna make it seem like I’m lying! You stand and grab your bag off the floor, stomping towards the door to the office, Y’all can choke—

Your dad calls out for you, and your fingers twitch at his tone, but you keep walking, pushing past the double-doors of the school and towards the bike rack. Tears flood your eyes when the double doors slam shut, your father berating you about making a scene in public. You unlock your ride, blocking out his rampage that draws the security guard’s attention. 

He put his hands on me, dad! You shriek as loud as you can between your cries, He put his hands on me! Why’re you yellin’ at me?

I’m not yelling at you! I’m yelling in general! You scoff and swing your leg over your bike, strapping your helmet on, I’m tryna understand what happened! You broke his goddamn nose! They’re boutta suspend you! 

Imma be at Maya’s, you say, monotone. I’ll see you later. 

Amaya isn’t even home. Your dad’s hollering his lungs out as you ride down the sidewalk, but you block it all out until the wind fills your ears like a monsoon. You’re not sure where you’re going, but it’s somewhere. 

Hopefully somewhere you can cry to yourself without disturbance. 

-

-

-

It’s your first day back at school since being suspended. Fuck everybody… except Amaya and Ceniyah. You probably would’ve switched schools if it wasn’t for them. You can’t wait to see them during lunch and tell them how fucked up it’s been staying at home. 

Today has been weird as fuck, to say the least. Friends that you’ve grown used to talking to in the hallways have either disappeared or ignored you. It’s quiet around you, now, and you’re on edge. What the fuck is going on?

Walking into the cafeteria is frightening. It’s always loud, rowdy, hectic, but the minute you step foot inside, everything seems to stop. You grip your tray so tight; you think it’s about to snap, frantically searching for your girlfriend. 

But your two favorite people are nowhere to be seen. You wander and come up empty-handed. Where the fuck are they—

Your thoughts are cut when a shoulder shoves right into yours. You throw your tray onto the nearest table. Laughter surrounds you before a snarky voice shriek in your ears.

Watch where the fuck you’re going, 

No, you watch where the fuck you’re going. Dumb ass bitch, You spit. You're about to get suspended for knocking this broad out. Who even is this? 

Coming from the slut who cheated on her girlfriend! Are you sure you’re a lesbian? Or are you going back to dick? 

The entire room seems to collapse from top to bottom, crushing you beneath clutter in attempts to suffocate. You freeze when everyone turns to stare at the scene, some standing to surround you, hoping to see a fight. You release a shuddering breath as your fist clench. 

… Cheated on your girlfriend? You love your girlfriend. You’re in love with your girlfriend, and she’s in love with you! What the fuck is this bitch talking about. 

I think she’s going back to dick! One of them laughs, and the rest follow, and the entire room glows red. 

Your knuckles are drenched in the color when your dad comes to pick you up. 

PRESENT

Maybe being a TA is helping. You’ve finally pulled your sketchbook out of your work bag. 

The point of your fine liner hovers over a blank page of your sketchbook. You can’t stop thinking about Ellie, and you don’t have many distractions. 

It’s been so long since you’ve created anything, and frankly, your ass is clenched with anxiety. Never in your life would you think that creating art would wrack your nerves in such a way, but your insecurities are working hard. Probably the hardest they ever have. Once upon a time, your sketchbook was your safe haven, and now the feeling of blank pages feels like needles. 

What if you’ve… lost your talent? You can see everything you want to make clearly in your head but your pen isn’t moving. The attempts at reigniting your passion would be pointless if you can no longer fucking draw. Your fingers are itching. 

Maybe you should try that corny shit from the movies where they close their eyes and move their utensils on pure muscle memory… Maybe you should do fucking shrooms! Visuals always peak on psyches, according to the experts. At this point, why the fuck not— 

“Son of a fucking — this is fucking stupid, bitch, jus’ fuckin’ draw,” you mutter to yourself in agitation. Just fucking draw! You do this! You do this, you do this!

Minutes pass and your paper is mussed with smudged, small ink marks from constantly moving your pen around, trying to find the right angle. Another piece of paper gone to waste. You fucking suck. You slam your pen down on the table. 

You stand and start to pace, “Positive affirmations only,” You remind yourself aloud, “You got this shit, like, what the fuck. Everything’s gonna come back to you. You’re in a funk and tha’sit. It’ll pass, it’ll pass— “

Whoever your hotel neighbor is… Praying for their sleep schedule. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, kiddo. Sorry I missed your call. Your pet knocked out on my hand.” 

Ellie giggles, “It’s cool. How ya been?”

“Fine… She’s a rascal, ain’t she? I found her head first in one of my flower pots. Her tiny legs were wiggling tryna get herself out,” His chuckles are like warm hugs, “How’s work?”

Ellie’s cackles calm, “Also fine… Err…Um… speaking of Pickle…” 

Her dad hums, and Ellie sighs, “Remember when I told you about how I found her?” 

“Yeah… You and that girl found the poor thing freezing to death outside… Why?”

“… Would you believe me if I said we somehow reunited by the grace of God and she’s coming back with me tomorrow?” Ellie squeaks, and her confidence drops when he exhales. It sounds heavy. 

“Um… for what?” 

“To see Pickle…”

“…Alright.”

“What’re you thinkin’,” She nips at her nails. 

“Nothin’…” 

“Dad…” 

“I dunno what you want me to say, darlin’… Everything you’ve told me about her so far wasn’t… great to hear.” 

Ellie rolls onto her back, “Yeah… I dunno. Something’s different about her now.” 

“How so?” 

She can’t tell him how badly your shielded eyes have taken a toll on her. How desperately she wants them to revert to the shining rivers they used to be. How badly her chest ached when you left her room last night, “I dunno. It just is…” She mutters weakly. Another heavy sigh. 

“I mean… You’re an adult. I can’t tell you what to do anymore.” 

“Don’t be like that, please.” 

“Not being like anything. I can only accept.” 

Ellie’s hand drags down her face in exasperation. The rants she relinquished onto her dad about you are making her nauseas. 

“Just… be nice to her, please.” He hums begrudgingly. 

“Dad, I’m serious. I feel like we… could be friends.” 

“Friends… Alright.” He sounds skeptical, but he isn’t combative. She hopes he’ll keep it together when he sees you, “How should I plan for this friend when she gets here?”

Ellie smiles sadly, “Make eggplant parmesan…”

Her dad snorts, “… Since when do you like eggplant?” 

Ellie grins, “I don’t.” 

Why can’t black roses be real? 

Ellie doesn’t seem like a flower girl, but she has a gigantic leaf imprinted on her arm for the rest of her life; She must appreciate the autotroph kingdom. Your mother always told you how fucked it is to enter people’s homes empty handed. Walmart usually pulls through with the awkward housewarming gifts, but they’re slacking in their garden selection today. Fuck your life. 

You’re forced to settle on peonies… They’re pretty and all, but you’d prefer alliums for her. Maybe even a carnation. Plus, Amaya always told you to never buy flowers that sound like penis. 

Amaya… Are you really about to break down in the frozen food section? Maybe. It’s time to go. You're shocked to find out you have more than ten dollars on your card. Fuck hotels, from the depths of your soul. 

You set your purchase in the passenger’s side and pull up Ellie’s pinged location. She left way earlier than you. You would’ve carpooled, but you couldn’t miss these hours for this paycheck. How are you a struggling student and not even in school? 

The drive is going to be long. 

At least you have time to scream out your frustrations. 

“Hey, Siri.” 

… UH HUH?

“Play This Cold Black by Slipknot.” 

PLAYING THIS COLD BLACK BY SLIPKNOT. 

Your head thrashes as you back out of your parking spot. 

“WELCOME HOOO— “

The ride wasn’t long enough, actually. Ellie’s dad’s house is right there. Like… right fucking there, and your voice is almost gone. Clouds are beginning to roll in over the neighborhood. The universe is fucking with you. Great. 

You dump the last bits of water into the thirty-dollar, peony-stuffed vase before exiting your car, backpack strapped over your shoulder. You climb the brick staircase with a pounding heart. 

“Okay,” You croak, “Hi. Nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. I heard my — our cat was with you—“ You rehearse and cringe. Why are you pressing him about a cat in his domain? 

“Fuck, okay, wait,” You try again, “Hi, Mr. Miller, I’m Ellie’s, uh, friend. We were roommates some time ago— “ 

Some time ago? Who the fuck are you? Shakespeare? Emily fucking Brontë? Get a fucking grip. 

You almost drop the fucking vase when the door opens. Your coughs are uncontrollable when you see Ellie, eyes flicking between you and the ring light camera. Why the fuck does she look so good? Cartier watch, black button up and slacks, hair… neat. She’s about to trigger your asthma! 

“Uh… you okay?” She questions flatly. You’re still choking on your own esophagus, but you send her two thumbs up anyway. You’re great! Terrific! Immediately scared shitless when a… big ass man holding a black furball creeps up behind her. He’s not as dolled-up as Ellie and it makes you less insecure. Why the fuck do you have this hoodie on? You should’ve at least worn some trousers! 

“Nice to meet you.” His voice sounds like grovel. Gravel? You can’t fucking think right now! He adjusts Pickle in his grasp so he can extend a polite hand out to you, “I’m Joel. I’m Ellie’s father,” He sounds courteous, but there’s something simmering beneath his pupils as he stares at you. 

His grip is strong when you accept it. You’re going to vomit, “I-I’m — I mean, hi, I’m, uh… Me’n Ellie used to live together—“ You sound like a frog who just learned how to speak. 

“I’ve been told.” He hums.

Meow!

You almost start bawling at your baby’s cry. She's so big now and her coat is so shiny! She’s eating well. Ellie accepts the flowers with dusted cheeks before stepping aside and allowing you entry. You’re instantly hit with the smell of garlic… Can the whole bloodline throw down in the kitchen? 

“Nice home!” You crack and cringe. You cringe so fucking hard. They both say thanks in unison, but her father’s is gruff while Ellie’s is delicate like petals. She can’t stop staring down at the flowers. Joel finally sets Pickle down so he can head back into the kitchen, and she follows him without hesitation. 

She doesn’t remember you. Your heart shatters. 

“Thank you for the flowers,” You hear Ellie say from beside you. You swallow the lump forming in your throat with a smile. “No problem… You look, um, great.” And you smell like heaven. Like clouds before the rain. 

Her face gets redder and she grins behind petals, “Thank you. I got called in today. For… editing and whatnot.”  

You snicker, “Whatnot?” 

“Shut up. C’mon.” You follow her into the kitchen where she sets the vase in the middle of the dining table before waddling towards her dad, who stands over the stove. You stand back and watch as she playfully punches his upper arm while he stirs the simmering pot, cracking jokes amongst themselves while Pickle paws at Ellie’s calf. Your doting smile vanishes at their laughter; What a little happy family. Are you breathing? 

You turn to face the living room and breathe in as deep as you can, eyes glued to their maroon couch. You crack your knuckles and release the wind in your lungs before repeating. 

“You’re okay, it’s okay. You knew what it was before you came,” you whisper to yourself. Ellie mentioned how close her and her dad were way before you got here, so why is the pain in your chest so sharp? 

A hand comes down on your shoulder and you jump, “Sor — fuck, sorry — “

“Are you okay?” Ellie asks, concerned. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine! Jus’ looking around,” You laugh shakily and note the large paper crane on the TV stand. You point at it, “That’s so cool! Did you make that? I love origami.” 

“No, my dad did— “

Fuck, “Oh— “

“Yeah, um— “

“D-Do you have a restroom?” 

She observes with worry, “… Yeah, right down that hall, to the left— “

“Thank you, BRB,” You’re practically running to the fucking bathroom. The door closes and locks and you pace. They have a nice shower curtain: black and white stripes. You count them all from top to bottom. 

“Your dad’s dead, fucking relax, it’s been like that, it’s been like that,” You exhale shakily, tremors building in your hands, “You’re fine, you’re fine, calm the fuck down.” You unzip your hoodie and ball it up before shoving your face in it. Your screams into it are muffled. 

You come up for air and stare into the mirror, “You’re fucking fine. The food smells good as fuck and you’re gonna eat and you’re fine.” You open the door and… kitty’s staring at you. She’s sitting pretty and inspecting your disheveled appearance. 

“Hi, baby. Remember me?” You squat and stick your hand out to her. She sniffs curiously before nipping at your pinky. “Ow,” you coo with a smile. 

“She remembers you.” 

Ellie’s leaning against the wall with her arms folded over her chest. You need her to stomp the fuck out of you with affection; She looks so fucking good, fuck—

“I hope,” you squeak and cough. It scares the shit out of Pickle and she runs. 

Ellie’s gaze lingers on your bare arms. “Can we talk for a sec?”

“Yup.” Sound casual, you think. You sprinkle a shrug in there. She nods before heading down the hall and entering the last door. You can’t hide your shocked expression at the scenery. 

Every inch of the room is covered in posters, most of them about galaxies and all their intricacies. There’s a red racecar bed covered in Regular Show sheets and pillowcases and a bunch of stuffed animals, dresser covered with discarded sticker papers and seemingly empty polaroid cameras. There are fairy lights dangling from the ceiling before coming down and around the bed frame, across the closet, and finally slung over her dresser. There’s little action figures and trinkets everywhere. 

The door closes behind you, “… Is this your room?” 

Ellie snorts, “It was. Not anymore.” 

You laugh, “I’m fuckin’ with it. That bed is crazy, though.” Ellie joins in, scratching at her ear. She takes a few steps until she’s in front of you, still at a distance. Thank God; Any closer and your celibacy goes down the drain. 

“Sorry I only brought flowers. I would’ve brought fucking… cake or something if I knew y’all were gonna cook.” Ellie waves you off. 

“The flowers were pretty. Thank you.” 

Your entire face is on fire, “Y’know what I mean…” You cough. 

“Um… I just wanted to talk to you about something. About my dad.” 

There’s a hole in your chest that’s expanding. She takes your silence as attentive, “He can be really overprotective… like, he’s kinda stubborn.”

“Oh… I see where you get it from,” You laugh weakly, clearing your throat when Ellie doesn’t. “Sorry.” You mumble. Ellie looks down at her feet, “Does he not… like me?” You ask quietly, embarrassed out of your fucking mind. 

“It’s not that, he’s just… I told him a little of what happened between us. Not everything, just some of it!” 

“The… bad part, I’m assuming?” Her silence is enough confirmation. 

Ellie looks like Pickle when she’s guilty. You remember when she hopped onto the counter and knocked over your water cup, eyes large and pleading for forgiveness over the mess she caused. 

“M’not mad,” You mumble, “I probably would’ve done the same thing.” Probably is used very strongly. 

“I’m sorr— “

“It’s okay— “

A knock comes from the other side of the door. 

“Come eat, you two!” 

“Coming!” Ellie yells back before rubbing her hands together. “I’m really— “ 

“Ellie, it’s fine,” You reassure her with a light slap on her bicep… It’s quite hard. “C’mon, uh… I’m hungry?” You brush past her and head towards the door, holding it open for her. “After you?”

Ellie reminds you of a strawberry milk squishmallow when she eases past you, trying to hide her smile and pink cheeks. Your cheeks puff as you release the air in your lungs, shutting her door behind you. 

This is the best eggplant parmesan you’ve ever tasted in your goddamn life. Too bad you can’t enjoy it due to Ellie’s hardcore mobster dad sending you deadly glares from across the table. He hasn’t said a word this entire meal, and you’re not anticipating the minute he does. He’s going to blow a gasket. 

“D’you like it?” Ellie says lowly from beside you. You nod your head with two thumbs up. You can’t hide your smile when you notice all the gooey cheese and noodles eaten off the pieces of eggplant. 

“It’s delicious. Thanks Mr. Miller.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He sounds like he means it. Your heart drops and Ellie scowls at him. Your fingers clench around your fork and you scarf down what you can. It’s so good and you’re so scared and you want this meal to be over. 

You're the last to clean your plate so you stand in a rush, gathering all of the plates and spoons off the table before scurrying to the sink. 

Ellie pads close behind you, “Oh, you don’t have to— “

You cut Ellie off with a nervous laugh, “The least I could do.” The dishes clatter and you grab a sudsy sponge. You waste no time, scrubbing the living hell out of these dishes. 

“Go sit down, Ellie.” 

The hairs on the back of your neck stand at his stern tone, “Wha— “

He slices through her refute, and still manages to sound calm, “Go.” 

You continue to scrub, sighing at Ellie's descending stomps. Joel creeps into the open space in front of the sink, grabbing a dish and another sponge. 

“Ellie told me you’re an artist.” He mutters over the running water.

“Yeah. Sorta.” You reply as calmly as you can. 

“What are your intentions with my daughter?” He gets right to it, it seems. You scrub harder. 

“Just… tryna make things right between us.” 

“Why's that?” 

Word vomit. You can’t help yourself. You’re so fucking nervous. “I-I fuc — sorry — I screwed over someone that was… really great. Your daughter’s a sweetheart and I feel awful with how things left off.” You stumble with a heated face. You catch the arch in his eyebrow and back pedal, “Not like we were — we weren’t dating or anything! Like, not like that! We just — “

“I was a student once upon a time. I know how these things go.” He snickers humorlessly. Your shoulders relax a smidge before he asks, “Why now?” 

“Hm?” 

“Why’d you wait so long to talk to her? The two of you graduated forever ago.” His tone is much calmer than it was seconds ago, but anxiety surges in your gut at his questioning. 

“I didn’t wanna reach out without being in the right headspace. I had… a lot going on and I had to handle it. Therapy’s hard as fu — heck,” You sigh, “I still don’t think I’m doin’ a good job, but… I dunno, it earned me a Michelin star eggplant parm. Must be doing something right.” 

You don’t expect Joel to laugh, but he does. It’s hearty and deep. Very dad-esque. Your heart crushes to dust all over again. 

“Look, kid,” Joel sets the clean plate in the rack before grabbing another, “I wasn’t gonna say much, but Ellie seems to like you… a lot. More than most people.” Your heart flurries back into shape at his observation. You want to ask what a lot means exactly, but he continues. 

“She’s… she gets very attached to people. I know it’s hard to believe but she’s very… sensitive,” His voice is low, but he’s not bullshitting in the slightest. The protective aura has returned and it’s radiating back onto you, pushing you back. Keeping you at a distance from him. From Ellie, “I’m never gonna shit on anyone’s journey, but frankly… if you’re not here to stay, I’d suggest leaving her alone now.”

This is definitely a threat. But you don’t feel threatened. You feel… sad. Joel is doing what any great dad would when faced with an outsider: armoring his cubs by any means. Something you’ve never experienced. If meeting Joel has shown you anything, it’s been what you’ve missed out on your entire life. Little does he know the last thing you want to do is separate from Ellie a second time. Another breakdown is bound to crash into you very soon. You forgot where the bathroom was. 

You’re not going anywhere. Your heart won’t allow it. “I’m— “

You’re interrupted by a loud rumble, instantly followed by the heavy droplets of pouring rain. It sounds like pebbles are being thrown at all windows of their home; Is it hailing? 

“Holy shit,” Ellie calls from the living room window, “Was it supposed to storm tonight?” 

“Yeah, it was on the news,” Joel confirms. Ellie rushes over and points her eyes to you. 

“You’re not driving in that.” She breathes out. Your heart fist pumps, but you maintain nonchalance. 

You shrug awkwardly, “I don’t wanna pry— “ 

“Nah, she’s right. We have a guest room.” Joel sighs, “Ellie, show her where it is. I’ll finish up in here.” 

Ellie’s hand closes around your wrist before guiding you down the hall. The bathroom’s right across from the guest room. On the left side, you note. 

“Fuck a guest room. You’re staying with me.” She mumbles and opens the cupboard. She grabs you some sleep shorts and presumably her father’s sweatshirts. You try to convince yourself that the strong pounds in your chest are from fear of the storm, and not at all from a lesbian slumber party. 

… Fuck. 

The storm is roaring outside. And Ellie’s chiefing in neon astronaut jammies. This feels like a fever dream. 

“They glow in the dark.” Ellie hums around a cloud of smoke from where she sits across from you on the bed. You pause your gawking, “Huh?”

“My pjs glow in the dark. Wanna see?” Her eyes sparkle and your heart sprouts legs and sprints around in your ribcage. 

“Fuck yeah.” You gasp. Ellie’s teeth shine before she puts her joint between her lips and leans across her bed to shut her lamp off. Every fiber of your being tries to not lock onto the smidge of skin that appears from under her sweatshirt when she stretches. The room goes dark around the neon pink and green outlines of the design. You choke out a laugh at the pigmentation; How the fuck are they so bright!

“Sorry if this is boring. I’ve never had a sleepover before.” 

“Shut up, that’s cool as fuck! You gotta battery pack in there or somethin’?” Ellie giggles out a no. A smile stretches wide across your face when you look up at her, hers just as bright. “Are you sleepy?” You ask. 

“Not at all,” she hums as she switches the lamp back on. 

“We could play a gaaame,” You suggest sing-songy. 

“Oh, fuck. Like what.” Ellie huffs a laugh. 

“Truth or dare is a sleepover classic— “

“I’m not licking a toilet seat.” Ellie states flatly. Laughter explodes from you at her face. “I’m not a crazy dare-er like that. The most you’ll have to do is prank call an ex or some shit.” 

“I don’t have an ex.” 

“Oh… Well, a family member.” Ellie nods in acceptance. “Can I ask first?” She asks. 

“Mhm. Lay it on me.” 

“Truth or dare?” 

“Dare.” 

“Show me what’s in your backpack.” 

“…Fuck.” You sigh, and Ellie cackles. “Were you planning this shit?” You ask and stand, walking over to the dresser where your bag sits. You grab it and hand it to her. She wastes no time, stubbing her joint out before rummaging through your shit, sifting through loose-leaf paper and markers used for coloring. You plop down onto her bed and she pulls out your sketchbook. 

“Is it okay if I look?” 

“I dunno,” You smirk, “Can I finally see your fucking portfolio?” 

“Come home with me tomorrow,” she says instantaneously, “It’s there. You can see it.” 

“… Then yes.” 

She flips through pages and pages of visuals you’ve created before your father’s passing. They range from sloppily scribbled orchids, to immaculately shaded depictions of eggplant farms. Ellie giggles when she finds a small comic of Pickle playing with her favorite mouse toy. 

“She still has it.”

“Good,” you whisper. You watch as she studies each page to her heart’s content, fingers dragging across lines that catch her attention. “You’re so good,” she says softly, awestruck and eyes sincere. Your gaze drops to your lap. 

“Thanks,” you match her volume. She hums and flips to the next page. You eye the ashtray on her bed before snagging it, snatching her lighter and igniting the joint. Ellie eyes you like a hawk. 

“I watched a tutorial on how to become a professional pothead… I think I got it down.” 

“Show me.” She whispers and your stomach jolts.

Smoke leaves the lit end of the J and you flick the lighter off. You bring it to your lips and puff your cheeks full of smoke, inhaling as deep as you can before your lungs squeeze. You cough and heave tearfully and Ellie leans in to rub your back. 

“That was better.” She says softly. “I was gonna dare you to hit it anyway.” Your coughing fits calm and you swallow. 

“Shit,” You say. Ellie takes the joint from you and hits it like a fucking pro. She's much closer than she was seconds ago. You examine how her lips curl around the roach, cheeks expanding around carbon before inhaling, allowing the remainder to leave in a bunch of circles. 

“You really blowing O’s right now?” You think you hit it right this time. The jitters you’ve had all day are beginning to dwindle. 

She smiles mischievously, “Mhm.” 

“Truth or dare?” You mumble.

“… Truth.” 

“Did you think about me… after you left?” If you were to lean forward an inch, Ellie’s nose would touch yours. Nose hug. Her face spots are so adorable. 

“Yeah. A lot.” She passes the J back to you and you accept it boldly. You’re releasing your stress with every exhale. Ellie was right; Smoking does feel good. 

“What’d you think about?” 

“Isn’t it my turn?” 

“No.” You smile. 

She shrugs, “I dunno. Just…” Her gaze falls onto her stuffed tabby cat. 

“I feel like you’re boutta say something nasty.” You snicker. 

“Wha — no! The fuck— “

You mock her, rubbing all over yourself, “I thought about your hands, ooo, aaa— “

Ellie smacks your arm a bunch of times before pushing you back onto the bed. You’re howling laughter over her whining, “Bitch, that’s you! Don’t think I forgot about that shit you pulled in the car!”

“You have nice hands! What can I say,” You slur with a dumb grin, “You have, like… classic lesbian hands. All you need is some Hot Topic rings and all the hoes gon’ flock to you.” You take one last toke before the lit end can reach your fingers, stubbing it on the ashtray. 

Ellie seemingly ponders with the theory, “… Is that why a milf ate me out at the club?” 

Your neck almost snaps when it cranes to look at her, “What the fuc— “

“Yeah. Craziest experience I ever had. Like, in my life.” 

“Fuck, Ellie…” Your head flops back onto her Lightning McQueen blankets. “Was it good?” 

“I… I guess. I came.” 

You stare at the star stickers on her ceiling. “You guess?” She only hums. 

“But…”

“Hm?” You urge her to continue. 

“She didn’t… kiss me.” She whispers like it’s dirty to say out loud. You slowly blink at the opaque walls. “I mean, she did, but it wasn’t a real one.” 

“Shame on her.” 

Ellie maneuvers so she’s lying on her back beside you. “Yeah…” 

“Ellie?” 

“Hm?”

“Were you a virgin before I touched you?” 

You expect her to slap the shit out of you again, but she doesn’t. She takes one deep breath before muttering, “Yes.” 

You stop yourself from melting into her bed, turning on your side and propping yourself up on an elbow, gazing down at her. Her eyes are wide as saucers as she looks up at you. You can see her fingers twitching around her pillow, squeezing the fabric of the case. Right on Rigby’s nose. 

“A-Are we still playing truth or dare?” She whispers, her breath hitting your face. She smells like oranges. You shake your head, tongue rolling over your lips. “No.” Your free hand lands on her hip and squeezes. Her jaw slacks around a gasp.

“… Oh.”

“Oh?” You want — need to kiss her so badly. Steal all the oxygen from her lungs so that she has no other choice but to breathe from you. Only you. Your vision is hazy with each travel over her face. She looks so soft, so pliant, so ready and prepared for you to take from her. Just like you hoped. 

Your hand travels, pushing her sweatshirt up just above the waistline of her pants, fiddling with the knot right under her bellybutton. 

You pull at the string until it loosens, “She gave you head?” 

“T-The milf?” 

“Yeah. The milf.” Aggravation seeps through your tone. Ellie’s hips twitch. 

“… Yeah?” She coughs. You hum and hook your thumb under the band and inch them down. They aren’t even off all the way and you can tell she’s naked underneath. 

“How good was it?” 

“I don’t… know?” 

“Yeah you do. How good was it?” You snip, and Ellie winces. “I-I squirted.” She trips over her words and your clit jumps. You don’t say anything, and she seems sad. 

“… Are you mad at me?” 

“No.” Your tone says otherwise. You’re not mad. You don’t know what you are. You don’t like what she’s telling you, though. Fuck milfs… You love them with your entire heart, but fuck them. 

… Yeah. You’re high as shit. 

You sit up and she moves to follow you, but you push her down and she goes limp under your touch. 

“Don’t move. Just lay there.” 

She pouts and you almost kiss it, “Don’t be mad.” 

“I told you I’m not.” You swing a leg over her waist and she sighs dreamily. “How many times did you come.” You’re not asking; She’s going to tell you. You raise her sweatshirt up over her breasts. 

“T-Two — Two.” She moves to throw her sweatshirt over her head but you snatch her wrists, pinning them right on the cushiony mattress. She doesn’t fight you. 

“I want you quiet. Your dad’ll kill me if he hears you.”

Her eyes go glossy and twinkle, “Okay— “ 

“I mean it. Don’t say shit.” 

“M’not gonna,” She whines before her mouth clamps shut. You give her overlapped wrists one last threatening squeeze, watching her fingers go lax before releasing her. You cup her tits and her eyes flutter shut, teeth sinking into her lower lip. You mouth at the valley between her tits and her back arches to follow each swipe of your tongue. 

You kiss all over her ribcage, almost feeling each erratic thump of her heart under your tongue. She keens when your tongue flicks over the rising bud of her nipple, thighs squeezing around your hips. Your mouth latches onto the skin right above her areola, teeth sinking into it before sucking. Her hips raise and she’s breathing like she’s about to faint, and you grin like a fox. 

You don’t let up until a wet maroon mark is left on her tit before swiftly switching to the next one, leaving a much harsher spot on the raised skin. An eager hand scratches down her torso until it brushes the patch of hair that peeks out from under her pants. 

You shove your hand beneath the light cloth and your fingers are drenched in seconds. Your walls squeeze around nothing when you feel her clit jump in excitement. Her squishy lips spread around your middle and index fingers, her throbbing bundle of nerves cinched between them. She keeps making fucking noise and the walls seem to shake. 

“What’d I say.”

“I — m’sorry, can’t h-help i— “

“Be quiet, Ellie.” Your fingers slip over her messy clit in slow, teasing circles. You release her skin until it’s blistering and bruised, quickening the pace of your fingers and she pulses in your hand. Your tongue swirls around her nipple once more, cheeks hollowing when you suckle. 

Your eyes search for hers but her head is thrown back, neck strained and veins popping from beneath her skin. Your lips release the skin and your drippy hand leaves her pants. Your nipples harden under your tee when she reaches for your retreating form, fingers digging into your sweats. 

Her pants are yanked down and tossed across the room, her toes curling in her rainbow-striped socks when your hands hook under her knees to push them up to her chest. Her arms entangle under her bent legs to hold them out of your way. 

“I could fuck you right now with no problems.” You exhale in a daze, “S’fucking drippin’.” You envision how good her pussy will swallow whatever pops in, how easy it’ll stretch around something thick—

Ellie’s eyes shine like you offered her candy and her hole clamps down hard. You chuckle. “You want that?” 

Her head bounces off the pillow in rushed nods. If your mouth wasn’t so fucking dry, you’d be slobbering all over her pussy. “Remember what I said?” You remind her, and she plants a heavy hand over her mouth. You kiss her ankle in appreciation. 

Your fingers move on autopilot, massaging her clit a few more times before inching down, your index pushing past the tight, gripping muscles. Your finger’s swallowed whole in an instant and Ellie’s trying her hardest to mask her squeaks. “Fuck me,” you sigh when she takes another finger with no hassle, walls engulfing your digits in wetness. Her scent is surrounding you and it’s intoxicating. 

“Missed you s’bad— “

“Missed you more, baby. Missed this pussy,” You’re pussydrunk and you’re slipping. That spot in her cunt becomes plumper with each press of your fingertips, “She fucked you better than me?” 

Ellie’s denial is convincing, but that sick part of your brain doesn’t believe her. She loved being touched by someone, wanted by someone. Someone who wasn’t you, and you’re livid, “Nooo— “

You slice through her whine, “No?” Your smile is sadistic and your fingers are relentless, “You said her name like you said mine?” You grit and her eyes cycle into her skull, her hair sticking to her forehead. She’s trying to keep her voice down when she whispers how she only thought about you when she made a mess. She wanted you there, she says, she needed you there to take care of her. 

“Y’fuck me s’good, fuck— “

Your eyes are dead, “I’ll hurt you. Be quiet.” 

Fear flashes beneath her desire and she listens, keeping her sobs to a minimum. The sloppy, wet sounds of her pussy overtake the entire room the harder you fuck in, her nails tearing into her Pikachu stuffie on the corner of her bed. A string of drool dribbles from her bottom lip to her sweatshirt, her eyes glowing under the dimly lit lamp. 

Her walls shake and throb on you, “Gonna cum, baby?” You grin manically at her dumbed-out expression, cheeks wet and eyes droopy. You coo at her and force in as deep as you can, curling your fingers up, fighting against the tight contractions of her walls. 

“Make a mess on me, baby, I gotchu, c’mon— “

A long, drawn-out moan escapes Ellie’s lips, and you’re so hypnotized by the heavy spray of juices that lands on your thigh that you don’t even bother to shut her up. She’s drenching her sheets and blankets and you and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You’re fucking wave after wave out of her and she’s practically riding your hand, groaned curses and dazed squeaks of your name bouncing off the walls. 

It feels like minutes pass when her orgasm slows, inner thighs drenched and dripping with slickness. Ellie’s entire body shakes and her thighs squeeze around your hand as she attempts to catch her breath, but you’re not done. You’re not satisfied. She didn’t give you enough. 

You climb onto her and your lips connect in a simmering kiss, her wet mouth smacking against yours. Her cold hands land on either of your cheeks and your hips roll downward on hers. She whines into your mouth and tries to meet your hips but you force them back onto the mattress. She yanks at your shirt in attempts to rip it off but you don’t let up, lips slipping down to connect with her neck. 

Your wrist twists downward until you're met with her sticky bush once more, spreading her lips apart and shoving your fingers back inside her. She chokes a wet gasp when they hit right where she needs, her arms wrapping around the back of your neck to hold you close. You’re babbling nonsense in her ear as you work her, telling her how she’s stuck with you, how you’re never leaving her side again, demanding that she says you're the best she’s ever had. And she does, and either you’re fucked out of your mind, or she means it. 

You barely catch how your hips move like you're fucking her, driving into her as hard as you can and she takes it, stretches her legs wider so you can reach the spots she’s never been able to on her own. She’s saying your name like a prayer, like it’s all she’s ever known, and it’s breaking you down, only to build you back up so you can crash back into her. You missed her so fucking bad and you’re unleashing all of your feelings on her body and she eats all of it. How could you leave her when she fucking needs you this badly? You’ll never forgive yourself. 

She’s warning you, crying about how you’re going to make her squirt again, begging you to slow down because she can’t take what you’re giving her, but you feel so good and you know she does, too. You can’t stop even if you want to. You want to drain her, live inside her for the rest of your days on Earth. You’re forcing space for you inside her.

Her nails dig into your shoulders as she cums. She’s unapologetically loud and it flows directly in your ear, and your own noises leave your mouth and land onto the clammy skin of her throat. The jets of fluid that leave her are stronger than the last, and you laugh. Laugh in ecstasy and joy and pleasure that you can’t even feel, but it’s there. Right in your chest. 

You’re not done. You’ll never be done with her. 

The night evaporates with you in between her legs, slurping every bit of cum and stress that you may have caused since knowing her from the source until the sun shines through her blinds, drinking from her like you’ll die without her taste on your tongue. She lets you do whatever you need to feel satiated, but it’ll never be enough now. 

You’ll never be done with her. 

Ellie’s naked form jolts awake when ticklish breaths hit her shoulder. 

You’re beneath her, slumped, pantsless legs entangling hers and arms twisted every which way as you slobber and snore. A smile grows on Ellie’s face at your peaceful expression; She’s never slept that good in her own bed. She doesn’t want to wake you, but she has to pee so fucking badly. 

She shifts in her position and instantly cringes at the soreness in her legs. Warmth coats the crests of her cheeks when she sees the discarded sheets and pillowcases that were changed only hours ago on the floor, head plopping onto your shoulder to hide in your neck. Your snoring gets cut by a guttural cough and Ellie laughs to herself when your snores pick up again. 

She’s not a morning person in the slightest, so why the fuck is she so happy? Is this the post-sex glow that her friends always tell her about? Is she still considered a virgin if you only used your fingers and tongue? She doesn't feel like one… Sex rules are fucking dumb. She stops stressing before she ruins her morning. 

The pangs in her bladder are getting on her nerves; She wants to cuddle. She sighs and shifts on top of you, trying her hardest not to disrupt your deep slumber. She manages to separate and clothe herself before waddling down the hall and into the bathroom, trying to ignore the aches in her thighs. You wrecked her shit… What the hell. 

The second she leaves the bathroom, she smells coffee. Her dad’s up. She might vomit. 

The two of you weren’t that loud. Definitely not. He couldn’t have heard. He didn’t hear! Ellie’s stealthy as she tiptoes through the hall… until the fucking floorboards croak from beneath her and she nearly faints. 

“Come out, dipshit. I know it’s you.” 

Her eyes squeeze shut and she curses to herself. She reluctantly appears from behind the wall, her dad sitting comfortably on the couch with a filled mug and newspaper, Pickle napping on his lap. He peeks from above his reading glasses. 

“Think we needa talk.” 

“… Fuck me.” She whispers before shamefully limping into the living room. She flops onto the couch and glues her eyes onto the decorative rugs under the coffee table. 

“She seems nice.” Her dad sips his mug. Ellie’s face burns. 

“She is.” She mumbles. You took such good care of her after last night. You got her in the shower, brushed her teeth for her when she was damn near sleepwalking, watched her down two bottles of water. Her heart flutters at how soft your eyes turned when you kissed her to sleep. 

“Is she your girlfriend?” 

“… I dunno.” He hums and sips. 

She doesn’t know. You’re not dating, but Ellie thinks you like her… She thinks. She likes you… a lot. She bites at her nails. 

“You like her?” He asks lowly; She knows he knows. 

“Yeah…” Ellie whispers, cheeks rising on their own. She covers her face when he smiles. 

“Just… take your time.” Joel advises gently, “Did she tell you she’s in therapy?” 

Ellie’s ears perk and her brows furrow, “No.” She sits up. Her dad’s gaze softens, “Wait til she brings it up, then. Y’all should talk before things get serious. It’s only been a couple days.” 

Ellie knows her dad is right, but it’s hard to control herself when she’s around you. She naturally gravitates towards your aura; It’s comforting and she doesn’t want to lose it again. 

A gentle clatter comes from her bedroom and she stands. You’re awake. 

“I love you, kiddo,” Joel says, and she smiles softly. “Love you, too.” 

She scurries down the hallway and enters her bedroom, seeing you sprawled out on the floor, all wrapped in sheets. 

Your eyes are droopy when you croak, “Hello.” Ellie snickers. 

“Hi. What happened.” 

“I was reaching for, like… an orb in my dream and I guess I did it in real life,” Your voice gets so raspy in the morning, and it tickles her ears. Ellie can’t stop laughing. She helps you stand before kissing your cheek. 

“Good morning,” she wraps her arms around your neck. 

“M-Mornin’,” You squeak, eyes flitting around, “Uh… How'd you sleep?” 

“Good.” She’s lost in your brown eyes. They’re warm like the sun. Why won’t you look at her? 

She follows your line of vision down to your fiddling hands before whispering, “You okay?” You simply nod. Ellie’s heart stutters nervously. 

“Do you still wanna come over later?” 

“… Yeah.” Your attempts to disguise your stiffness fail. Ellie feels a lump forming in her throat when she detaches from you, and you search for the new pair of pants she gave you before you went to bed. Ellie watches silently, crestfallen. Something she did triggered your aloofness, so she turns to leave the room.

Her voice cracks, “I’m gonna… shower again— “

“Ellie.” 

She turns, “Yes?” 

Her fists clench when you walk until you’re standing in front of her, warm hand coming up to hold her cheek before kissing her. It’s soft and makes Ellie’s fingers thrum with excitement. It only lasts seconds before you pull away, and Ellie chases your mouth.  

“I’d love to come over. I think we… should talk about some things.” You say quietly, and Ellie silently agrees. You let her go and she wants nothing but for you to pull her in once more, shrouded in your warmth. 

You’re making her bed when Ellie leaves for the bathroom, body falling against the door to calm herself down. You’re not upset with her, and you want to come over… to talk, whatever that means.

The hot water burns her skin; She spends her entire shower thinking about how she can make you as happy as she feels. 

taggiessssss :3 @dyk3ang3l @ellieloml @inf3ct3dd @fromminaa @womenofarcane @sawaagyapong @mina-281 @aouiaa @bbglmfao @i00rii @sakiigami @starologist @southelroys @diddiqueen @trackinglessons @ellieswhorcrux @villainousbear @p4ison1vy @tohoko @yuckyfucky @dollyfleurs @elsbunny222 @sevsbimbo @amiorca @alittlextrahoney @gato-chino @topiatwin @r3wbeef @elliesatchel @muthafuckingstargirl @callmewhenyoukan @macaroni676 @draculurasblog @ellieaesp @@gravygranules @elsblunt

[penbattles]

Hi all!

So... I'm moving at the end of the month for a PhD program (very exciting), but it turns out that's really fucking expensive, so I'm doing a commissions push! If you can't commission right now, I would really really appreciate you reblogging this so that it hopefully gets in front of people who are looking for some art!

If you are interested in commissioning, DM me here on Tumblr or shoot me an email at katja62801@gmail.com. FAQ are under the cut. Thanks so much!!!

How is the pricing impacted by backgrounds/additional characters?

Complicated props or backgrounds are priced between $7-$25 depending on complexity. Additional characters are 2/3 of the normal price.

Are tips required?

Tips are not required, however they are greatly appreciated. I try my best to keep my prices as low as possible to make my commissions accessible to as many people as possible. A big part of why I am able to do that is due to the generosity that people have shown when it comes to tipping :)

What can I commission?

I’m open to drawing most things you can throw at me.  I won’t do explicit NSFW or heavy gore, and I’m staying away from anthro just because of lack of experience.  But other than that, go nuts!  OCs and existing characters are all perfectly fine.  Complicated props or animals may be charged as a complicated background, and comic commissions are available with pricing upon request.

How do I pay?

I conduct all transactions through PayPal.  That account is the same as my email, katja@62801.  I normally take the full payment up front, but if you are uncomfortable with that we can do it half and half. I would also love it if you could use the PayPal friends and family option, as otherwise PayPal will charge me a fee.

How long will the commission take?

Normally, I am able to finish all commissions within a week of order placement.  If a drawing is taking a particularly long time, I will let you know, and I will always keep you updated throughout the process as much as you like.

Any more questions?  Just shoot me an email or a dm and I’ll be happy to get back to you.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

as someone else who is also working on a huge fic project with OC's I am currently SHAKING YOU please i would love to read it holy shit yeahG?GS?GS

A New World: part 1

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

A/N: I take that as a yes😂 This is inspired by a fan fiction I once read, where bayverse Leonardo was teleported into the “real world”. I liked the concept and decided to add some more details and my own imagination to the whole thing. And then it took on a whole form of it's own😂💙

Leo is 25, reader is 22 - 23.

Warnings: None so far💙

How Leonardo and his brothers ended up on top of yet another skyscraper, fighting a manic scientist in mechanic body armor, was all gone from his mind at that moment. All he thought about was a way to get that mad man to stop his rampage on the city of New York. All he could recall at that moment was him and his brothers celebrating their 24th birth in the lair, alongside master Splinter, April, Casey and even Vern, before the phone started ringing, with the news of a crazy man running through the streets of New York City. After having fought Shredder and an alien from another dimension, a lunatic in a cyborg suite shouldn’t be that hard. Though the NYPD had called the ninja turtles in to take him down, because they themself couldn’t do it, Leo didn’t see the elderly yelling man to be much more than a wanna be villain. What was it he called himself again? Dr. Horror or something like that. Yeah… not very creative… Mikey had already poked fun at it several times, to the point where even Raph found it funny.

And yet there they were, high above New York City, fighting a man that obviously had his middle life crisis waaaaay too late in his life. He was rambling, overly emotional, and didn’t really seem to have a grasp on reality.

“You and this city will always remember the name of Dr. Horror, and soon the whole world will be mine!”

“Jeez, like we haven’t heard that one before”, Donnie murmured, jumping out of the way before a robotic foot could crush him. Annoyed sounds could be heard from the old man as he tried to stomp the purple time yet another time without success.

“Yeah, you think they would come up with some new material. The same old stuff is not that scary”, Raph said darting from a robotic knuckle sandwich, causing the scientist to get more annoyed.

“Outdated plans, overused comic book lines, and a villain name that sounds like something a 9 year old made up”, Mikey said. The big robot growling yet again. “I mean, dude, what even is your villain origin story? So far you just sound like a sad Shredder wannabe. Like, at least give your evil plans some ground! It makes the fight so much more interesting and makes you seem like a real threat-”.

“Enough!”, the crazed doctor yelled, cutting Mikey off from his long ramble, before claws flew from his cyborg armor, going fast for Mikey. Leo reacted fast, jumped and pushed his youngest brother out of the way. That was when the claw closed around Leo’s right ankle and pulled him high above his head. Leo swung his katanas at the retractable arm, only to be met by a chuckle from the man inside the suite, as he started shaking the blue turtle around like a ragdoll. This caused much anger in his brothers.

“Ay!”, yelled Raph, prompting the man to stop shaking Leo. “Put my big brother down or I’ll turn ya til scrap metal!”

Just as all three was about to charge the big cyborg, the retractable arm extended all the way beyond the roof, high above street level. Leo, who at this point was dizzy from all the flinging around just hung there, clutching his katanas as he looked at the street below. Suddenly that fear of heights from his childhood was growing in his stomach once again.

“Wait!”, Donnie yelled, holding his arms out to stop his brothers from charging further.

Horror boy chuckled once again. “I take it you’re the smart one”. Donnie narrowed his eyes. “Drop your weapons or big blue will become a turtle pancake”, he said, giving Leo a little small shake.

Reluctantly the three brothers looked at each other, before looking back at Leo, who was shaking his head, telling them not to do it. But with a sigh, they did exactly that, leaving the weapons on the roof. This caused the frailing man to start with the whole evil laugh, head high with his eyes closed. Leo took the change and sheathed his katanas on his back, before reaching into his belt for his ninja stars. After a quick aiming, he threw the star, and watched as it made a small slit in the doctor's cheek, before impending itself into his metallic shoulder. Dr. H stumbled back in shock, turning towards the ninja still hanging in his robotic claws.

“I’ve always hated turtles”, growled the irritated man. The next happened so fast, that neither Leo or any of his brothers had time to react. Instead of just dropping Leo and letting him fall to the ground, he swung Leo back before throwing him far and high so hard that he had to do a spin because of the memento, sending him hurling through the air, to the sound of his scared brothers watching in horror.

Flipping and flying through the air over New York, Leo found himself disoriented, grasping at air and kicking his legs, panicking as he saw the roofs of the city go from over his head, to under his feet to over his head again, only to flip down under him once again. The ocean got closer, and he hoped that he would make it that far. But then the roofs got closer and closer. Leo’s panic only got worse. He hadn’t screamed at all while falling down over the city, but as he realized he would hit the street before the ocean, he knew he wasn’t going to make it. Leo couldn’t hear his brothers scream his name from the distance and the wind in his ears. Leo’s scream was big and loud, but just before he could be swallowed by the buildings around him, on his way down to the pavement, a big light opened beneath him with a loud bang. A loud bang that made people fall to the ground, the cyborg fall over on the rooftop before falling to the street below, with the sound of a long “noooooo”. The three remaining green brothers grab onto the roof and each other, so they themself wouldn’t fall the same heights as the cyborg scientist. They watched in fear as Leo fell into the big flat circle of light, before it closed once again with a bang, just as big as the last one, once again sending everyone to the ground. Standing back was Leo’s three younger brothers, staring at the spot where a circle of light had swallowed their older brother.

Leo heard so many noises as he was falling through what seemed like a long tunnel of light and colors. If he was screaming at that point he couldn’t hear it. He didn’t know if he was falling up, down, to the left or to the right. No feeling of gravity, yet it felt as if something was pulling him. Leo did not know for how long he had been falling through the tunnel, before landing with his face first in a pillow filled sofa. Leo was so confused and dazed, that he didn’t notice the loud bang above him, as the circle of pure light disappeared again.

Blinking and squishing his blue eyes a few times, Leo sat up on the sofa, rubbing his head. He sat there for some time, absolutely confused. No thought made sense to him, and he had no idea of what to think of the situation. He sat in a completely foreign living room, in all his green turtle glory, and from the look of the sky outside, in the middle of the day.

Shit. From the frying pan straight into the fire.

Leonardo sat uneasy for a moment, listening for any noises outside of the living room, indicating that anybody could be home. He heard nothing, other than his own breathing, his beating heart and the cars outside on the street.

Slowly standing up, Leo started making his way around the living room, looking for a quick way out. It was a bright living room. It kind of reminded Leo of April’s living room, yet it was different. There were quite a few plants here and there, a lot of books, bright colors, a pretty nice TV, along with small things here and there, like art supplies, figurines and pictures. A lot of pictures. Polaroids and framed pictures on the walls. Some looked like family pictures, others looked like friends hanging out. One thing many of the pictures had in common was this one girl. She had a bright smile, and in Leonardo’s opinion, didn’t look too bad. Must be the girl that lived here.

Leo kepting looking around the room, when he came closer to the window, he realized he was in an apartment, too high up for him to make a quick escape out the window.

“Fuck my shell”, Leo mumbled under his breath, before making his way from the living room to the next room, making sure nobody was around. Just because he couldn’t hear anyone, didn’t mean that he was alone. He knew very well that humans could be quiet, especially from the many times April had sneaked up on him and his brothers.

Leo found himself in an open kitchen. Like the living room, open, bright, colorful, filled with plants and memorabilia. Leo looked out the kitchen window, hoping to find an alleyway and a fire escape, but he was out of luck. No fire escapes and no alleyway. Instead a big open courtyard filled with people, talking and laughing in the daylight, and a pair of glass doors leading out to a balcony.

Leo cursed once more under his breath. Signing, he rubbed his face, wondering what he was going to do now. His thoughts went to his brothers, wondering how they must be feeling at that very moment. Probably terrified. They had just seen him being thrown across New York City before disappearing into nothing. Instinctually Leonardo felt bad. Guilty. Stresset. His brothers were somewhere out there, probably looking for him, fearing for his life. For a cold-blooded creature, Leo was getting really hot. His palms was getting clammy and his face was getting warm.

Leonardo did not know what to do. Heart beat raising, arms and legs slightly shaking as his three fingered hands rubbed his face once again. Leo was so out of it, that he did not know how to react when he heard the front door being unlocked. He just froze one the spot, wide eyes and heart beating harder than it had done, since fighting Krang. Leo heard somebody humming out in the hallway, putting their keys down and taking their shoes off. He could hide! One problem, where could a 6 foot something mutant turtle hide in an unknown apartment, when the person who lived in said apartment was just down the hall?

Leo got to hide. The only thing he managed to do was turn, so he could see the woman as she walked. She stopped in her place, (e/c) eyes going wide, humming stopping, smile disappearing, and if she had had anything in her hands, she would probably have dropped it at that point.

“Don’t freak out!”, Leo quickly said, absolutely terrified. “I- I know it looks weird, b- but I can explain-”.

“You’re in my house”. She cut him off, her voice shocked but calm.

“I know, and I’m sorry! I don’t know how I got here-”.

“Leonardo is in my house”. She said it out loud, in a way that made Leo unsure if she even was talking to him. Because Leo even could say what, she said it again. “The Leonardo is in my house”.

[mymindisneverhere]

FAVORS

Part Six

warnings: 18+ MDNI!, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, angst, lots of dialogue (forgive me if I missed any)

a/n: Don’t hate Khloé too much.

Masterlist: Favors 1-5

Khloé looked up at the large clock that hung above her sofa. Terry was running 20 minutes late which meant they’d be running late for her mother’s party. He knew how Khloé felt about being late to things, especially family gatherings. Although this was only his first time being late, she’d make sure he wasn’t late again.

“I’m sorry, Summer needed help with her car. It took longer than expected.” He said walking into her home. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” 

Khloé exhaled, letting all of the breath out of lungs, attempting to keep control of her anger. 

“I know you will.” Khloé responded, not bothering to look up at him. “I’m ready to go, the car is downstairs.”

Khloé was really trying to suppress her jealousy but the more she heard Summers name, the more she became annoyed with her and she didn’t even know her. She could tell in the small amount of time she had known Terry, how selfless he was, especially for those he cared for most. But her constant need for all of his attention was getting the best of her. 

The ride to her parents house was dead silent. Terry couldn’t help but sense the attitude she had with him. Ever since the night she opened up about her personal dreams, she had become more talkative with him. Sharing her opinions and views on things that interests her most. 

But she was silent for the entire ride. Terry didn’t know what to think. Usually her attitudes would follow up a threat, that way he’d know what he was in for later in the evening. It would also be a sign that she didn’t plan on staying mad at him for too long. But she just sat quietly, staring out of the window until they arrived at her parents home. 

Terry parked the car and looked over at her as she grabbed her purse from the passenger floor. She searched through her small Chanel tote, looking for her signature lipstick to apply another layer before entering the house.

“You didn’t say anything the whole ride. Are you that mad at me for being late?” Terry asked, eyebrows raised. 

“No.”

“Then why were you so quiet the whole ride?” 

“I’m just thinking about how I want to deal with you later on that’s all. But I’m not upset with you.” She said, putting emphasis on you. “Let’s go.” Khloé sat back, waiting for Terry to get out and open her door. 

He made his way to her side and helped her out as he always did. She grabbed his hand and they held onto each other as they entered the large home, falling into the routine they’d practiced too many times. 

They stepped into the large foyer, immediately being greeted with the delicious smell of food and soft music playing. 

“There she is!” A woman exclaimed, holding out her arms as she approached Khloé and Terry. 

“Kandace!” Khloé yelled, letting go of Terry's hand and embracing her big sister. They rocked back and forth expressing how much they missed each other and couldn’t wait to catch up. 

“Wait a second, who is this?” Kandace asked, staring up at Terry with a raised brow. 

“Kandace, this is my boyfriend Terry. Terry, this is my big sister/second mom Kandace.” Khloé said, keeping her eyes on her sister as she approached Terry. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you Kandace.” Terry greeted, with a warm smile, holding his hand out. 

“I’m a hugger.” Kandace said, pulling him into a snug embrace. “It’s nice to meet you as well!”

She released Terry and turned to her sister. “Dad told me you brought someone to the family banquet but I didn’t think you actually had taste.” 

“Shut up Kandace!” Khloé playfully slapped her sister's arm, rolling her eyes. The interaction between the two sisters caused Terry to crack a smile.

The three of them engaged in conversation, totally forgetting who they were there celebrating. Kandace talked about the time she spent overseas living in Japan with her husband. Terry was genuinely intrigued, amazed at her love for the culture and the people. 

Khloé stared at her older sister, pure admiration in her eyes. Kandace was everything Khloé wished she could be. They both were bold in the way they presented themselves and fearless in demanding what they wanted but Kandace always made it her mission to live her life the way she saw fit. Something Khloé was obviously still having a hard time doing. 

Terry noticed this, the way Khloés eyes sparkled as she listened to her older sister tell stories about her time spent in the foreign country. He could tell they were close, the way they clung to each other, sharing inside jokes and exchanging compliments. 

“Well are you here to see Kandace, are you here to celebrate your mother?” Khloé heard the deep tone from behind her. Heels clicked the floor slowly as she turned to meet her mothers gaze. 

“Happy Birthday mom!” Khloé smiled, walking into her mothers arms. 

“Thank you dear.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled. Her smile slowly turned into shock as her eyes landed on Terry. “Terrance, it’s so good to see you again!” 

Mrs. MacArthur instantly released her daughter and practically ran over to Terry. It caught him by surprise when she hugged him, squeezing him tight. Not wanting to be rude, he hugged her back, a pair of puzzled eyes on Khloé as she stared blankly at them. 

“It’s good to see you as well ma’am.” 

“Princess!” Mr. MacArthur announced, walking over to his youngest daughter, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

“Hi daddy.” Khloé smiled, hugging her father. 

“Terrance, good to see you son.” Mr. MacArthur said, shaking his hand firmly. 

“It’s good seeing you as well sir.” 

“Well I hate to break up this reunion but dinner is ready. If everyone could make their way into the formal dining room that'd be great.” Mr. MacArthur said to the room full of family and friends. 

Terry couldn’t help but notice Khloé stuck in a daze as her eyes locked onto the floor where her mother was standing. He immediately made his way over to her, stepping around her mother. 

“What’s wrong?” Terry asked, looking down at her. 

Khloé quickly shook her head and cleared her throat. 

“Nothing, I was just thinking about the good food we’re about to eat.” She answered with a fake smile on her face. Terry stayed put for a few more seconds. He knew she was lying but he wasn’t one to push her beyond her limits so he nodded and held his hand out for her to take. 

The guests made their way into the formal dining room to see a long table covered in dishes from end to end. Mr. MacArthur sat at the head of the large table while his wife sat on the opposite end. Everyone took their seats and prepared their plates as small conversations filled the room. 

Khloé took a seat right next to her sister Kandace who sat next to their dad. Terry was right beside her. They fell back into their conversation from earlier never missing a beat. Mr. MacArthur joined in sharing his experiences from traveling abroad and the many cultures he learned about as well. 

*Clink Clink Clink* 

The sound of a silver spoon tapping against a champagne glass caused everyone’s head to snap in the direction of the sound. Mrs. MacArthur stood at the end of the table as she made sure she had everyone’s undivided attention. 

“I just want to thank everyone for coming to help me celebrate my 60th birthday. Although I don’t look my age.” She joked, receiving small chuckles from the guests at the table. “To be surrounded by friends and family and my husband who I love, this has really made my night. If only my pride and joy were here to help me celebrate.” 

She was referring to her son, also known as the “Golden Child”, Kameron. Khloés older brother, the one who could do no wrong in her mothers eyes even when all he did were the wrong things. Kameron was a free spirited person who came and went as the wind blew. 

Khloé expected him to show for their mothers birthday but then again if he had something more important to do that always came before family. Even if the important thing was laying up under his ex-stripper turned fiancé who he met on tour as a DJ. Khloé was here every second her mother needed her while her siblings were nowhere to be found unless they wanted to be found. Even still she went unnoticed. 

“Thank you all for coming and I hope you enjoy the amazing food Lucille has cooked for us. Let’s dig in!” With that everyone turned to their plates. Before anyone could return to their conversations Mrs. MacArthur decided to get Terry’s attention. 

“So Terrance, what exactly is it about my daughter that piqued your interests?” Mrs. MacArthur asked, placing her fork that held her Caesar Salad into her mouth. 

Everyone’s attention turned to Terry awaiting his response.  

“Well uh, it’s her passion, her fearlessness, her determination. She’s very proud to be herself, she doesn’t let anyone stop her from being all that she is.” He responded, looking over at Khloé. “I admire that about her.” 

Khloé smiled softly at him as she took a sip of her drink. Everyone nodded, pleased with his answer, silently whispering their compliments for him to each other. 

“She gets it from me.” Mrs. MacArthur started, “I’ve always expressed to her the importance of presence.  You have to let everyone in the room know that you’re there, if not they’ll look right over you.

“But I have to say I'm quite surprised to see you at another family gathering, I was sure she’d run you off with her inability to keep someone around.” Mrs. MacArthur spat, not bothering to meet her daughter's eyes. 

“Angela.” Mr. MacArthur gave his wife a look, warning her to stop while she was ahead. 

“I’m just being honest dear. She’s in her 30s with no husband, no children, no real home. I was beginning to think she’d be one of those women who owns animals to take the place for the lack of human interaction in her life.” She joked, laughing to herself. 

A few guests laughed at that last statement, all but Kandace and Terry. Khloé sat quietly but her anger didn’t go unnoticed. Her sister patted her leg, silently letting her know she was supporting her. Khloés jaw clenched as she felt herself beginning to tear up but she didn’t want to give her mother the satisfaction of knowing that after all of these years, the things she said still got to her. 

“I think she has plenty of time to experience those things. I mean we only get one time to live a life we truly love, I believe moving at your own pace is important. Rushing into things never really works out anyway, most things are worth waiting for.” Terry stated as respectfully as he could. 

Her mother looked over at him, a small smirk spreading across her face. She nodded, raising a shady brow as she finished her champagne. 

“Well said son.” Mr. MacArthur nodded. 

A smirk crept onto Khloés face as she noticed her mothers silence. There was rarely ever a time where she didn’t have a rebuttal for someone who didn’t agree with her. Khloé looked over at Terry as he dug into his plate nonchalantly. Her admiration for him was growing greater as the days went by. 

His ability to shut her mother down respectfully and gracefully had her wanting to pull him away from the table and into the powder room down the hall, fuck a punishment. 

“Keep him.” Kandace whispered into her ear causing Khloé to look at her. Kandace gave her a ‘bitch you better’ look while taking a sip of her wine. 

The family conversation continued with Khloé no longer being the topic of the table. The small group wined and dined as they shared personal stories, experiences and laughs amongst each other. 

Terry reached into his pocket to grab his cell phone that was vibrating. It was a message from Summer. Khloé couldn’t help but to look down at his phone. She only saw a glimpse of the name before looking away, hoping Terry didn’t see her looking. She stared down at her plate as her mind began to fill with thoughts… again.

‘She’s like family.’ 

‘I just wanted to return the favor.’ 

“Well that was delicious.” Mr. MacArthur stated loudly, snapping Khloé out of her mind. “Terrance, come. I want to show you my latest purchase, a 1967 Convertible Mustang. I’m sure you know a lot about cars, don't you son?” He smiled and nodded before getting up from the table. 

“Oh yes sir.” Terry answered. “It’s okay if I leave you here with your sister right?” He turned to her wanting to get the okay to step away from her. 

Khloé nodded, giving him an artificial smile. With that, Terry stepped away from the table and followed her father down a long hallway to their six door garage. Mrs. MacArthur sat silently as she had been watching the whole thing play out. 

“Gosh, that food was delicious.” Khloé said, opening the door to her old bedroom. It was still decorated from when she was a teenager. Mindless Behavior posters, Bratz dolls and her old Nintendo DS that still worked if she could find the charger to it. 

“Girl forget about that food, tell me about that snack you got downstairs! “Kandace said, following right behind her. “So spill it, where the hell did you meet a man like that?” Kandace took a seat on Khloés childhood bed.

Khloé paused for a while before answering her sister. She wanted to give her the same bullshit story she’d given everyone else about Terry but she couldn’t. Her sister was her rock and no matter how big of a lie she told, Kandace always saw through it. 

“Kandace, I’m a bit embarrassed but I don’t want to lie to you.” Khloé started, taking a seat at her small vanity covered in stickers. “He’s a worker.” 

Kandace’s eyebrows bent in confusion. “What do you mean by worker?” 

“He works at one of the warehouses in the rural area, just off the freeway. I was visiting a while ago, doing my usual “check ups” and I saw him.” Khloé was so ashamed. 

“Okay so what’s wrong with that? You fell in love with a regular guy, that’s better than those attention junkies you used to date.” 

Khloé braced herself for the harsh truth she was about to reveal. “He’s not really my boyfriend. I’m paying him to be here with me.” 

Kandace sat up straight and stared at her baby sister, her mouth slightly open. She stared at her sister for a while, completely confused as to what she was doing and why. 

“Why are you paying him?” 

“Because I can’t keep a man to save my life.” Khloé leaned against the vanity with her head in her hands. “The last thing I wanted to hear from mom and dad was how I was gonna end up all alone and miserable. I just wanted them to lay off of me for once.” 

“Khloé.” Kandace spoke softly, inching closer to her sister. “Why do you let what they say get to you so easily? Who cares what they think about your love life?” 

“I do.” Khloé shot back, meeting her sister's eyes. “Look how long they’ve been together, all of the things they’ve accomplished together.” 

“They are not the couple you wanna model your relationship after.” Kandace mumbled. 

“Knock Knock!” A high pitched voice sang out, interrupting their conversation. The strong smell of cheap perfume took over the room as Khloé realized exactly who had entered her bedroom. 

“Nia, where have you been? How are you?” Kandace smiled, getting up to hug her. They embraced each other, pulling away to look each other up and down, taking note of their outfits. 

“I’ve just been in the wind as usual. I’m doing good girl but how are you? You’ve been traveling the world so much we barely get to see you anymore.” Nia stated. 

Khloé rolled her eyes as she tried to get herself together. Aside from her mother being one person she didn’t wanna let see her sweat, Nia was second on that list. She cleared her throat as she turned around to face her cousin. 

“Khloé girl, I saw that man of yours downstairs.” Nia stated, with a raised brow. “You’ve got him trained, he barely said two words to me.” 

“Well he wasn’t sure if he was speaking to Nia or ‘Imani’.” Khloé spat bluntly. 

Nia paused before letting out an obnoxious laugh, grabbing her stomach as if what Khloé had said was the joke of the day. 

“Oh girl you need to lighten up, I was just playing a little joke on him that’s all.” Nia rolled her eyes. “I mean he’s gonna be family eventually, he’ll get used to my humor.” 

Kandace looked back and forth between the two women as she could obviously sense her sister's irritation. Nia was exactly who Khloé said she was, a sneaky bitch. However Kandace, being almost 10 years older than the two girls, never witnessed any of Nia’s conniving ways. But Kandace also wasn’t that damn stupid. 

“You introduced yourself to him as Imani?” Kandace questioned. “Nobody calls you that.” She chuckled at the thought of it. 

“Well maybe I want to start being addressed as Imani, is that a problem for y’all?” Nia shot back in defense before turning her attention to the window. 

Kandace looked over at Khloé who was burning a hole into the back of Nia’s head. 

“Doesn’t matter anyways, he won’t be here long.” Nia mumbled to herself. 

“What was that?” Khloé asked, leaning her body forward so that she could hear Nia a bit clearer. 

“I’m going downstairs to get some food.” Nia headed toward the bedroom door. “It was really good seeing you Kandy girl and you too… Khlo.” 

Nia exited the room and Khloé immediately shot up from her seat. She paced around the room as she tried calming herself down, looking at her sister with wide eyes. 

“I told you that bitch was trifling but nobody wants to listen to Khloé, the spoiled brat who thinks everybody’s out to get her.” Khloé said, walking back and forth. 

“She was usually a sweetheart around everyone else, I thought you were just jealous of the attention she got.” That last part earned her a dirty look from Khloé. “My bad, you were right I guess.” Kandace admitted, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

“Fuck her though, the real problem I’m having is this Summer girl.” 

“I’m listening.” 

Khloé vented to her sister, telling her all about how she found out about Summer. She told her who Summer was to Terry and how even though she knew nothing was going on between the two of them, she still wanted her out of the picture. 

“You’re sounding a bit insecure Khloé.” Kandace had to admit it. 

“I know but I don’t care. I want him all to myself!” 

Kandace leaned back in shock at the words she just heard from her sister. “Wait, you actually like this guy and if that’s the case, why do you need to pay him?” Kandace whispered, keeping in mind that anyone could enter the room at any moment. 

“At first it was just supposed to be sex, nothing serious.” Kandace already knew about her sister's sexual desires, this revelation was nothing new to her. “But then after a few glasses of wine we started talking and I told him things I hadn’t shared with anyone but you.” Khloé walked over to sit next to her sister on the full size bed. 

“He was so interested to hear what I had to say, he was so patient with me. I talked his ear off for hours, he never interrupted me one time. I just feel so comfortable with him. Even my sexual appetite doesn’t bother him.” Khloé kept her voice low and looked over at her sister. “I just don’t know if I’ll ever meet someone like him again. I don’t know if this will last for a long time but I want it for right now, while it feels good.” 

“Well do you think maybe it’s because he’s getting paid to do those things?” Kandace had to keep her sister grounding in reality. 

“He kept asking to hear more though. Every time I apologized for rambling too much, he’d remind me that I didn’t have to.” Khloé stated. “The deal was to attend things with me and sex whenever and however I choose.” 

“But he’s been doing way more than that.” Kandace added, finished her thought for her. 

Khloé nodded. “And with Summer always grabbing his attention, I’m afraid that once this is all over, it’ll be over permanently.” 

Kandace sighed loudly. “So this Summer girl is your only problem?”

“Yes.” 

“Then get rid of her.” The infamous deep voice spoke from the doorway. 

Khloé and Kandace looked up to see Mrs. MacArthur standing there, her fingers interlocked resting at her waist. She stood there with a sharp brow raised high. Khloé was silently praying her mother hadn’t heard their entire conversation. From the look of her face, it didn’t seem as if she had. 

“If this woman is causing a riff in your relationship with Terrance, get rid of her.” Mrs. MacArthur stepped into the room, slowly making her way to the chair that sat in the far corner. “It’s the same woman who called his phone earlier right?” 

Khloé stared at her mom, wondering how in the hell she knew that. Always under her constant observation but never actually being acknowledged in totality. 

“You want her gone, do it yourself.”

“She’s a good friend to him, I can’t just ruin their friendship.” Khloé responded. 

“Then you will lose him to someone less deserving.” Mrs. MacArthur uttered those words. Those same words that haunted her every time she was next to Terry. 

“That’s ridiculous.” Kandace scoffed. 

“Do you love him?” Her mother asked, ignoring Kandace’s remark. 

“No but I do like him a lot.” 

“And do you think you’ll ever get the chance to love him if this friend is always in the picture?” 

Khloé sat silently. She didn’t know what to do. She was completely aware of her own inner turmoil and didn’t want it to control her behavior. But would she ever get the chance to love him if she didn’t have his undivided attention? Would he actually even consider being serious with her? 

“I don’t know.” Khloé answered herself and her mother. 

“Get. Rid. Of. Her.” 

“I know you’re not about to sit here and listen to this bullshit advice Khloé.” Kandace finally spoke up, bothered by the things she was hearing. 

“And what do you suggest Kandace?” Mrs. MacArthur asked playfully, not taking her seriously in the slightest. “Should she hop on a plane and go overseas to find love?” 

“You know what-“ 

“Can y’all not do this right now?” Khloé yelled. 

The room fell silent as the three women exchanged looks. Mrs. MacArthur sat unbothered as she eyed Kandace. Kandace stared back at her, not hiding the disdain for her whatsoever. She repeated herself once again hoping Khloé would get the picture and remove all distractions from Terry’s life. 

“Get rid of her.” 

“I’m sure you could teach a masterclass on getting rid of women can’t you?” Kandace spat, never breaking their stare down. 

Mrs. MacArthur cleared her throat and stood from the chair, smoothing her dress down. 

“You’ll thank me later dear.” Those were the last words she offered her daughter before leaving the room to return to her guests downstairs. 

Khloé looked over at Kandace with a look of frustration. 

“Why do y’all hate each other so much?” Khloé asked. 

“I don’t want her ways to take hold of you.” Kandace shot back. “You cannot make the same decisions she makes, take the type of advice she’s giving and expect a happy ending Khloé.” 

Kandace stood from the bed and exited the room, leaving Khloé there with her thoughts. They were racing a mile a minute. Fear, doubt and the possibility of being lonely forever was consuming her, making her head spend in more ways than one. 

It was like the devil was on one shoulder and an angel on the other. One side being her mother, the other being her sister. It felt as if she was being tugged in both directions, she just wanted to stop thinking so much. 

“Your sister said you were up here, is everything okay?” She snapped her head in Terry’s direction. “Your mind has been elsewhere all day, what’s going on?” Terry stepped into the room, stopping a few feet away from her. 

Khloé stared at him as the thoughts slowly began to drift away. He tilted his head slightly, trying hard to read the expression on her face. She just blankly stared at him, not saying anything. Finally given an opportunity to take her mind off of this mess she was creating for herself, she stood and walked past Terry, pushing the bedroom door closed and locking it. 

“Fuck me.” Khloé stated before snatching off her top and walking him backwards until he fell against the bed. 

“In your parents house?” Terry looked up at her, a shocked expression on his face. 

“Yes!” 

The public library was silent, only the sounds of soft keyboards and papers being turned filled the room. Khloé searched around the open floor, desperately looking from aisle to aisle. 

The guests sat faces buried into their laptops and library books. Khloé continued walking up slowly, her black blazer hanging off of her shoulders as she held onto her bag tightly. 

“Hello ma’am, are you looking for something in particular?” The familiar voice spoke from behind her and she slowly turned around to come face to face with her. 

“Summer right?” Khloé asked, a smile spreading across her face. 

“Yeah… wait you’re Terry’s boss.” Summer stated, pointing a knowing finger at her. “Is he okay?” 

“He’s just fine. I actually came to speak with you if that’s okay.” Khloé whispered. 

“Sure, I’m just about to take a break, we can step right outside.” Summer offered, leading the way to the large double doors that sat at the front of the building. 

They both took a seat on the large bench that sat a few feet away from the entrance. Khloé sat one leg crossed over the other as Summer stared at her. 

“So Summer, I’m sure you aren’t aware of this but Terry’s been having a lot on his plate lately.” Khloé lied.

Summer sat quietly unaware of what Khloé was referring to. 

“With him having to take on this new job, losing all of his savings, he came to me looking for help and so I helped him. But one thing led to another and we ended up spending a lot of time together.” 

“Wait, y’all are seeing each other?” Summer asked, frowning at the revelation. 

“Yes.” 

Summer looked down at her feet and then back up at Khloé. 

“It was supposed to be a secret of ours, no one knows. However, it’s just so hard to sit back and watch him stress due to your constant need for his assistance.” Khloé went on. “He’s not going to tell you this because he’s just a sweetheart and he tries to help as much as he can but I’d really appreciate it if you did me a favor and maybe step back from him for a while. I’m sure he’d appreciate it as well.” Khloé placed a soft hand on Summers' forearm. 

“Why would he have you come and tell me that?” Summer tilted her head slightly. “No disrespect to you um…” She trailed off 

“Khloé.” 

“Khloe.” Summer finished the statement. “Terry and I have seen a lot and been through a lot together. He could’ve just come to me himself and again no disrespect to you but I’ve never heard of you. He hasn’t told me anything about you.” Summer added. “So why should I do you a favor?” 

Khloé smiled softly before delivering the blow. “Who do you think sent you that check in the mail?” 

Summer's face dropped. Khloé smiled to herself, the conversation was going just as she planned. 

“He told me about your situation with your daughter.” Khloé admitted with a remorseful look. “I know that’s tough for you but it’s also taking a toll on him. I know you’re a good friend, he tells me this all the time so I'm sure you’ll understand that he just needs some space from you right now.” 

“He told you about my daughter?” Summer questioned, hurt from hearing that her good friend had revealed a very personal thing to a stranger. Summer was under the impression that Khloé knew about her addictions and her struggle with gaining custody. 

But Khloé was insinuating that he had told her more on purpose. The truth was she didn’t know much about Summer or her daughter, only that they needed help and Terry wanted to help them. But the look on Summers face told Khloé everything she was saying was sinking in exactly how she intended it to. 

“Look Summer, I care about him a lot and I’m sure you do too so the less stress on him the better, yeah?” 

Summer sat silently taking in all of what she had just heard. She stared down at the ground, not bothering to look up at Khloé. It was hard for her to hear that essentially she had been a burden to Terry. He had never made her feel this way but to hear this information coming from Khloé was devastating to her. 

“Yeah I guess so.” She responded, voice low. 

“I’m glad you understand.” Khloé smiled. “It’s just for a little while, until he’s able to clear his mind.” 

Khloé stood and placed her sunglasses on her face. Summer remained seated on the bench, her gaze stuck on the ground. 

“I wish the best for you and your daughter Summer.” Those were the last words Khloé said before strutting away to her car. 

A small wave of guilt washed over her body before quickly dissolving. It wasn’t like she was telling Summer to stop talking to him all together. She just needed more time to secure a real relationship with Terry. Summer would understand this in the future. 

Khloé took her phone out of her purse and dialed the number she had learned by heart within just a few days of having it. 

“Hey you, I was thinking I could do pasta tonight.” She smiled. “A friend of my mothers gifted me a bottle of white wine, I think it’ll pair well for the evening, what do you think?” 

“I think it sounds good.” Terry responded. “I take it you’re not mad at me anymore.” 

“Not at all Mr. Richmond.” 

to be continued… 

[slutouttanowhere]

All Yours | C. Punk

Pairings: CM Punk x Sabrina Richards(oc)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: public sex, unprotected sex, oral(f) and (m) receiving, non-labeled relationship, age gap(oc is mid twenties), spiting, and vulgar language. A twitter p*orn link was included in this story. Not for minors

Authors note: this fic, listen this one beat my ass I cannot lie, but I threw that Normani on and I ended up having so much fun with it. This felt oddly therapeutic in some parts, and I was inspired by @harmshake to rip Punker a new one. The title was taken from All Yours by Normani, I hope you all enjoy, and as always follow me for more.

Sabrina is leaning against the door frame of Shawn Micheals’ office door, he called her in for a few notes he wanted her to hit on her interviews that night for the show. “Okay, Joe Hendry’s first appearance is tonight, so I’ll be sure to grab him, and make sure we get a camera on him right out of the battle royale.” She mumbled as she went over her list making sure she had all her notes. She said her goodbyes to her boss, and as she turned to make her way down the hall, she bumped into someone.

“Well today must be my lucky day, I was just looking for you.” Punk lied through his teeth, it would worry any normal person how easy it is to lie to peoples faces with such ease, but CM Punk isn’t a normal person. A tired expression crossed Sabrina’s face, CM Punk was in the performance center more than the nxt talent, and that annoyed her. Still, she couldn’t ignore the boost it did for ego that someone like Punk gave her so much attention. And unfortunately for her she did find his “charm” attractive enough to entertain him.

“Sure you were.” She said dryly, his hazel eyes raked her body, and shamelessly slowed at her breast. They ended up in a coat room closet entangled at TKO celebration, and she’s been trying to avoid him ever since. Leave it to CM Punk to be persistent.

Punk’s lips stretched into that classic smirk of his, despite her attitude, she hadn’t bothered to pick up her pace, or totally shoo him off. I do have a knack for toxicity don’t I? Punk humorously thought to himself, “so, word on the street is someone’s birthday is today.”

Sabrina’s heart jumped, she had stopped walking, it was then that she realized they ended up in a deserted hall, or was it that he had herded her in that direction while she was distracted? “What happened to your piercing?” She suddenly asked, her eyes fixated on the tiny puncture hole on his bottom lip where his lip ring used to be.

“You’re deflecting, so when’s the party?” His eyebrow quirked, he came to stand in front of Sabrina as she leaned her back against a wall. She really was gorgeous to him, but she just held back too much he felt. There were times when some of the other female talents were being so nasty to her, and he hated it, but it’s not like he could interfere with another woman’s business. He’d ask her about it, and she’d make up a lame excuse like, “it’s not worth the drama,” which Punk felt like if someone scuffed your shoe it’s definitely worth the drama.

“That’s what really made me fall in love with you when I was growing up. It’s just a silly little piercing, but it wasn’t just that, it was everything else added to it. You were everything that girls like me weren’t supposed to like.” She paused, her gaze not quite meeting his, usually he didn’t like her little anecdotes distracting him from what he originally was bothering her about, but this was more than she’s ever given him. He stood with his arms folded, interested in what she had to say.

She sighed as if recalling the memories of her early days exhausted her, “I was raised a good ole Christian girl, church every Sunday, and praying before bed every night. I wasn’t supposed to be watching things like wrestling but it was the one worldly thing my mom allotted me in exchange for my obsession with the occult.” Punk tittered, he looked at the woman standing before him now and tried to imagine a less…gray, version of her. She was just as tatted, and pierced as he is now. Perhaps that was his doing, oops.

“Back then, I wasn’t watching wrestling for John Cena, or Rey Mysterio. Nah, I was watching every Monday night for the Randy Ortons, The Undertaker…for you.” Punks eyebrows shot up in shock, he looked around and then pointed to himself for conformation.

Sabrina giggled, “yea you mister straight edge.” She wasn’t sure why she was spilling her juicy secrets to him, but anything was better than talking about her birthday. “You were a sacrilegious jackass who’s offenses knew no bounds, and that was the thing I loved about you so much.”

There was a long pause, “you’re a heathen, and you probably should have been taken to therapy.” He snorted, Sabrina rolled her eyes, “alright then let me have it, I can tell by the way you pinch your lips you’re holding back from verbally assaulting me.” Punk offered. His tone humorous, he was still unaware just how serious she was being.

“Okay fine.” She nodded her head decidedly, “you’re not used to compliments, and you could say it’s because you’re oh so humble. Or you could say that, because you’re so busy shitting on yourself with the constant woe is me bullshit you never see how much we adored you. You can’t see past your own self pitty, and how under appreciated you felt, you didn’t even realize when you walked out that door we all walked with you.” She only paused to take a breath, “but then as of the dramatic exit to end all dramatic exits weren’t enough, you took the company, chewed it up and spat it out. Then for some reason that wasn’t even the icing on the trauma cake, you didn’t just return once, you returned twice. God forbid you don’t outdo yourself. Point is…you changed, and if I’m being honest I don’t totally buy it. The clean boy act, the suits, the making amends, it’s bullshit.”

To Punk’s shock Sabrina’s revelation got under his skin, no one’s ever tried to hold him up to the light like this and he’s not sure if he likes it. “So what do you want from me? I’m 45 for crying out loud. I can't exactly start locker room fights.” He snapped at her, his voice raising above his normal volume.

“I want that lip piercing back, I want you to stop wearing those goddamn suits and be the Grinch I know you are.”

“What the fuck Sabrina, are you crazy.” He laughed, the way she looked at him actually made him feel a little nervous, she was being so aggressive, but he liked it. This is what he's been wanting from her, a little bite back, a little zest. Maybe I should ask her about her birthday more often.

She grabbed onto his tie, pulling him towards her till it was barely any space left between them. His hands hovering over her hips, his head craned around looking for any other talent, or officials that might come across them. Sabrina didn’t seem to give a fuck who saw them, which was news to him. Her eyes flickered to the arm brace that was tightly pinched over his suit jacket. “You don’t even need that arm brace do you?”

Turning his attention back to her, he grinned, “redacted.”

“Jade let it slip that Lash and Jakara are throwing me a surprise party. Everyone is invited, even old dogs.” She said playfully, Punk rolled his eyes, but he let her have it.

“Should I even bother bringing you a gift?”

She thought about letting him off the hook, but since he’s the one that started this conversation, why not get something out of it? “Wear the piercing.” She demanded in a soft voice, her arms sliding up his chest, and around his neck. She could smell his expensive cologne, she guessed it was something like Gucci, or Versace.

Punk let out a chuff of air, his minty breath fanning her face. “You gotta be kidding?” He was going to do it anyway, he didn’t need convincing, however, if she was willing to change her mind he wouldn’t be mad at that either.

Sabrina pushed herself off the wall which only brought them closer, Punks hands now gripping her waist, “think of it as cosplay, and if you do, we can have a repeat of TKO party…sober.” She ran her fingers through the curtains of his hair from front to back, and gripped his brunet strands. His growl mixed with laughter was all she needed. Before he had a chance to rebuttal, he pushed him away, blew him a kiss, and headed down the hall. Punk shamelessly watched her walk away, committing the way her cheeks bounced as he walked to his memory.

—

The party Lash and Jakar threw for Sabrina was every bit of wild as she expected. There was an even mix of people she, and people she didn’t packed their shared apartment. Music was way too loud to hear her own thoughts, which meant there would absolutely be a noise complaint from their tenant. She took a few shots to make everyone else feel like she was grateful to be there, but as soon as she was away from prying eyes she slipped off to her bedroom.

As soon as plopped down at her desk someone knocked on the door, “now who the hell?” She mumbled, reluctantly she crossed the room again, only to cuss out the person that was ruining her personal time.

“My bad, thought this was the bathroom.” Punk grinned, Sabrina was surprised he actually showed up, and in dress code. His red Ralph Lauren polo matched his Vans, and his dark blue jeans tied the whole look together. His toned, tattooed arms stood out against the deep reddish top he wore. So you have been spending more hours in the gym. Sabrina mentally noted the way his chest looked more elevated, she couldn’t see his physique well in those dreaded three piece suits. She grimaced at that stupid arm brace he didn’t need, she tried not to let it ruin the moment for her.

She shook her head, trying to fight the smile on her lips, the butterflies in the pit of her stomach, and the sudden ache of desire between her thighs. She always felt Punk looked handsome, but he brought some extra heat with him that she’s not used to seeing. “Well look what the scene dragged in, you look good.”

“Yeah? Not bad for an old dog.”

“Just shut up and get in here before someone notices I’m hiding.” Sabrina grasped his large hand in hers, the glint of his watch caught her eye as she closed the door, and locked it behind her. She pressed her back to the door letting out a breath of relief, as her eyes fluttered closed Punk took her in. Her outfit was very revealing, he’s never seen this much of her skin before, but then again he’s not down in Florida all the often. Her little black dress stopped mid thigh, it was strapless which didn’t help to support her large breast. Her legs and thighs were covered with black lace stockings that had pentagram designs on them. As sexy as the dress was on her, she decided to wear doc martens. A real Cinderella, Punk wasn’t sure if he should sit, though he was clean, her room somehow felt cleaner.

His eyes swept around the dark room, it was very strategically designed which told him more about her personality than what he thought he knew originally. “What, no poster of me?”

“I had a poster of you, I replaced it with Drew McIntyre when you pissed me off at Clash.” She was proud of that burn, the look on his face was worth the lie, but for now she simmered in his agitation.

“Cute.” He grumbled, that’s when she noticed it, the lip ring.

She crossed the room to him, she knew exactly what she wanted, and he knew it too. The game of cat and mouse was over for her, “you wore the piercing.” She met him where he stood in the middle of the room, one hand on his chest, and the other stroked his bottom lip with her index finger.

“Of course I did as told.” He smiled proudly.

“What good boy you are, come sit.” Sabrina plopped down on her bed, the blankets were pulled back to reveal Akatsuki, from Naruto, themed sheets. Punk wasn’t familiar, but he knew it had to be some sort of cartoon knowing Sabrina.

He watched her from where he stood, suddenly his skin felt hot, and he was sure his cheeks were flushed. She sat with her legs crossed, hands in lap, she looked so harmless, but he wouldn’t be fooled. “I can’t promise you I won’t bite, but I’m in a mood.” She purred, her hand patting the empty spot next to her, Punk breathed through his nose. Her room smelled like vanilla and chocolate, a contrast to her perfume which smells like cotton candy. Even if he wanted to think clearly he couldn’t, she had him surrounded.

He came to sit beside her, it was then he realized that he did have a gift to give her. “Oh, this is for you.” He dug a small, rectangular box from his pocket, it was covered in black velvet, and wrapped with a lavender purple chiffon ribbon tied in a bow. Sabrina was shocked, it looked like he put a lot of thought into it, all the other presents people brought her tonight were in dollar store gift bags. Not that she was complaining, she made it more than clear that she didn’t like to celebrate her birthday.

Her eyes slowly dropped to his tattooed covered hands, it was so small, but the gesture was so big. “Velvet, what a fancy gift.” She joked, she still hadn't taken the box from his hands, and a part of her didn’t. She wanted to skip this part all together, but she swallowed thickly, and took it from his hands. Neither of them spoke as she untied the ribbon, her heart hammered against her rib cage, and she wondered if he could hear it. She pulled the top off, and her breath caught in her throat.

“I know you’re really into spiders…for some creepy ass reason, but that’s who you are, a little weirdo.” Punk chuckled softly, inside the gift box, was a necklace with a spider made of sterling silver attached. Its abdomen had a shining red ruby in the center, and a single drop of pearl attached to its legs. What the hell made him buy me something so…intimate? She wondered, sure they flirted every now and again, usually when Punk was around all he ever did was annoy her. Sabrina understood that was his way of flirting, so she’d flirt back never thinking…

“Um…” Sabrina uttered, for the first time in his life, Punk felt uncomfortable. He just wanted to get her an actual good gift, Cody did warn him that maybe that’d be too much, but he couldn’t help himself. ‘Doing the most.’ Was in his nature.

He laid a hand on her wrist bringing her out of her thoughts, “it’s just a gift, I promise.” There was a sign of relief on her face, her body relaxed, but he could tell she was still confused by the sentiment. “Listen I’m an excellent gift giver, you’re lucky to be a witness of that…and besides you deserve to be gifted with something you actually like.” He smirked bringing the light energy back into the room, Sabrina chewed gingerly on her bottom lip.

Her gaze met him now, those pretty hazel eyes standing out against his dark, brunette hair. She reached out her hand, “I love it actually, it’s stunning. Thanks Phil.” Her smile genuine, he fought the urge to close his eyes, and take in her touch. She pulled away, took the necklace, and sat it on her night stand next to the bed.

“Listen, Sabrina—

She cut him off, “whatever this is between us, I don’t want it to end yet.” She cut right to the point, he didn’t question it, but instead pulled her into a hot kiss. Both of them needed to release the tension that’s been building over months. One hand held her to him, and the other gripped her thigh. They only separated to breathe, “I wanna use your face, can I sit on it Daddy?” Punk was already standing, and pulling his Polo off. Sabrina leaned back on her hands watching hold undress, a haughty smirk on his lips. Her eyes full of hunger as his hands slowly unbuckled his brown leather belt, and unbuttoned his pants. Her tongue slid across full, luscious lips. Punk stepped out of his Vans, set them to the side, and pulled his jeans down all the way, and kicked them out the way.

“All you gotta do is ask, Princess.” He teased, he ran a hand through his hair, this time he decided to not gel his hair down, he knew how much Sabrina liked to tug on it. “You see what you do to me, I’m so fucking hard.” He groaned, his hand gripped his dick over the fabric. As she stood to unzip her dress, Punk dropped to his knees before her, he kissed her thighs, and helped her step out of her boots. Her breathing was heavy, as the anticipation felt like it was killing her. It had been sometime since that company party. She’s been trying to recreate the way his tongue had traced her labia, but nothing would ever come close to the real thing.

He helped go tug her dress off, then threw it onto the bed behind them, and when he looked up he gripped his shaft harder. From this angle below her, he could see her curves even better than when he’s standing. “Fuck, come stand over here baby.” He directed her towards her desk, she faced towards the wall with her ass poked out, but when she peaked over her shoulder Punk was crawling towards her on all fours.

“That’s right, come get this ass.” Sabrina arched her back, she clapped her cheeks as she looked back at him, the friction causing her to ache more between her thighs. Punk hooked his finger over her lace stockings, as he pulled them down he trailed wet, hot kisses down her ass. Without looking he tossed her tights then eagerly pressed his face between her booty, and inhaled her deeply. “Fuck.” She hissed out, his roughly slapped her, then warmed her up before landing another thunderous blow down on her.

He pulled her panties to the side not even bothering to take them off, Sabrina was already too far from anything sensible, and once his tongue touched her clit, all decorum went flying out the window with the rest of her manners. He slurped her up all her juices, he covered his lips, nose, and beard in her essence. He reached his hand around her waist, his fingers made sloppy circles around her brown pearl. His tongue delved between both her holes, she held onto the desk with dear life, and twisted around to look at him. No one had ever eaten her like this. “Oh my god.” She cried, her fingers gripping his hair, his eyes looking up at her, he looked like a devil, “you're so nasty.” She moaned breathlessly, her hips rocked back and forth across his face. He held her by the hips so she wouldn’t lose footing, his lips caught her clit again, gently he sucked on her.

“Goddamn it, that’s so good.” She groaned she wasn’t sure when, or how the room had gotten so hot. She could feel sweat like her hairline, she could feel her baby edges peeling away from her forehead. “I’m so close, don't stop, please.” Sabrina begged, her hips bucked backwards, her throbbing intensified, and as her head fell backwards she was already done. A mix of her juices and his saliva sliding down her thigh. Punk wasn’t done yet, he slid his tongue back and forth between her folds until he felt like he had gotten every drop she had to over.

Punk grunted, “this ass is mine.” Then, disrespectfully spat on her pussy before trailing kisses up her lower back, to her shoulder. His thick, erected cock pressed against her as he held her by the waist from the back. “I’ve been thinking about this cunt of yours since I was on the plane here, all I’ve been wanting was to be so deep inside you.” He whispered in her ear, his hands found her breast, and caressed them gingerly. Sabrina swore she couldn’t see straight, or maybe it was from her eyes being rolled back.

“Prove it, fuck this pussy like it’s yours.” Sabrina breathed out, she could feel his tip slip over her entrance, he chuckled darkly, and kissed the shell of her ear.

“The only thing you’ll be craving for months is me sweetheart.” Before she could respond, he pushed himself slowly, and didn’t stop till he filled her all the way up.

“Ohhh fuck yes.” She cried out, the music too loud for anyone to hear them, Punk’s hand slid down to lower stomach, and held her against him. He pulled out of her, but leaving the tip in teasing her entrance.

He slapped her ass, “you want this dick baby? Let me fucking hear you.” This time he slammed back into her, over, and over till they were both fighting to catch their breath. His Instagram post of him doing hip thrust in the gym flashed in her mind, she couldn’t help but let out a giggle, mixed with a ragged moan.

“Fuck you.” She groaned, she leaned forward onto the desk, and hiked her knee up. She pushed back into him meeting his rhythm half way, peaking over her shoulder she could see him leaning back so he could watch her ass bounce.

He was grinning like a mad man. “That’s right, throw that ass back on me, just like that kitten.” Sabrina tightened around him, her knees weakened, and core aching so good. Punk leaned forward, one hand holding onto her waist, and the other wrapped around her throat. He filled her up perfectly, hitting all the right spots, and pounding her just the way she liked. He wouldn’t be back in Florida for a few months, so he put an extra special touch on it. Sabrina let her mouth fall open as moans, and whines of please poured out of her. “Fucking right, let that shit out, I wanna fucking hear it.” Punk encouraged her as he counted the steady rhythm, he could feel his own orgasam creeping up on him, but he knew she was closer.

“Ah! I’m gonna cum.” Sabrina breathed, Punks hand reached between them, his fingers massaging her clit. Her hand reached up and dug her fingers into her hair, “oh god don’t stop please.” She begged.

“I got you baby, I don’t care how long it takes, I’m not gonna stop.” His breath was warm against her, she inhaled his cologne deeply as she came undone underneath him. Had this been any other night her cries might have alerted her neighbors, but the bass of the loudspeakers made them unknown to the party goers. She took a second to catch her breath before spinning around, and now dropping to her knees. Mouth open, tongue out. “Look at you, such a good girl.” He praised, his hand massaging himself at a rapid rate, he held her head perfectly still. Milky white seman dribbled out of him, Sabrina took over, and wrapped her lips around his tip. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He changed over and over as she sucked him for everything he was worth, which wasn’t a whole lot in his opinion.

She swallowed without hesitation, Punk pulled her up from the floor, and pressed his lips to hers. It was sloppy at first, both of them too exhausted to do much of anything else, but it slowed to a softer touch. She wrapped her arms around his neck, a silly grin spread across his lips. “Happy Birthday Rin.” He hasn’t used that nickname since they first met three years ago. It was dumb but he was the only one that managed to get away with it.

“I’m gonna go shower.” Her own smile matching his, as she walked away, Sabrina thought this was the best birthday she had in years.

Tag list: @shes2real @joannasteez @plutokisss @naturallysunkisseddaisy

[msschemmenti]

sing with me please

emily prentiss x singer!reader

prompt: reader and emily are dating and she’s a rising artist on her first small tour. she’s been gone for weeks but is back in dc for a show. obviously emily is there and reader begs for emily to come on stage and sing their song with her to close out the show.

a/n: au inspired by this picture of paget and this series i’ve been writing for myself about a singing reader/oc. also this is not proofread at all. let me know what you think— and if you’re interested in more stuff like this :)

song featured : juna - clairo

“God, i can’t wait to see you.” y/n breathed down the phone quietly.

“Oh trust me, I’m right there with you. I’m starting to think I should’ve just taken the time off and gone with you.” Emily groaned into the phone from her desk.

“Oh I don’t want to hear it, I tried everything I could to get you to come along. And I mean everything. But you’re married to the job.” y/n replied with a tease.

“Aw, come on. I feel like I haven’t been here long enough to take three months off to follow my pop star girlfriend on her first-ever tour. Plus, it’s not like the world knows who you write all those love songs about anyway. And stop saying I’m married to the job, you know I hate that.” Emily all but whined.

“Right right right. Well, none of that matters now, because in just a few hours you’ll be front-row being serenaded for a good two hours.”

Emily grinned at the thought of having her girlfriend’s attention in a room full of fans. “Having my favorite singer’s attention in a room full of her adoring fans, sounds like a dream come true. What time should I get there?”

“Looks like this shoot is going to run over, so I might not be able to see you before the show. Either way, DeeDee has your name on the list already so you’ll be taken to your seat as soon as you’re there. Are you bringing anyone with you? I can give DeeDee their names too.” y/n rambled in thought.

Emily eyed the bullpen curiously, she hadn’t exactly thought to ask if anyone wanted to go with her. It felt a little too personal and after all this time on the team, she feared Garcia’s reaction to her having a serious girlfriend without her knowledge. “No, it’ll just be me. I’m sure everyone has plans. It is Friday after all.”

y/n chuckled softly at her girlfriend’s words, “Okay, make sure you text me when you get to the venue so I can let everyone know.”

“Yes ma’am. And after the show?” Emily asked hopefully. She really missed having her girlfriend home.

“I’m DC based for the next three months.” y/n grinned.

“Oh thank God.” Emily sighed in relief causing y/n to giggle softly.

“You can thank DeeDee for convincing the label to let me write and record here.”

“Well DeeDee has a very expensive bottle of wine with her name on it.”

There was a bit of shuffling on the other end of the phone and Emily knew the signs all too well, “Listen Em, I’ve got to go. They’re ready for the next outfit. Remember to text me.”

“Okay, I will. I’ll see you later.” Emily smiled.

“Yes, see you later. Love you.” y/n whispered before ending the call and handing her phone back to her manager.

-

“Hi DC.” y/n spoke into the microphone with a bright smile. The room filled with cheers almost instantly as she spoke and her cheeks grew red under the praise. “Oh you all are too sweet. How are we feeling tonight?”

y/n scanned the audience waving happily until her eyes fell on the VIP area she’d requested for Emily. Her eyes lighting up instantly as she caught Emily with her hands cupped around her mouth cheering with the other fans in the room. Sending a wink in her direction y/n spoke in the mic, “You all look so beautiful tonight. Thank you so much for coming out to my final show on my first tour. It’s been so fun meeting and talking to everyone but I’m very happy to be home. With that being said, let make this the best show yet!”

-

Emily was on cloud nine. She was absolutely beaming with pride and she couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be. When y/n said she’d be serenading her all night, she really hadn’t been kidding. As much as she could without making it too obvious, she practically spent the last two hours gazing lovingly into Emily’s eyes. And Emily felt mighty special. Her favorite voice, just for her.

“DC you’ve been so amazing tonight. I don’t think I’ve felt this happy in a long time. My favorite city, in a room full of my favorite people. It’s so so good to be home.” y/n spoke as the band set up for the last song of the night. “As you all know, we’re on our very last song and as much as I hate to end this night– I’m so excited to sleep in my own bed.”

y/n sat on the stool center stage and shuffled some papers on her music stand with a smile. She looked over to Emily with a mischievous smile that had her heart trying to beat out of her chest.

“This last one is very very special to me. It’s my biggest song and the reason I’m even on this tour. But more importantly, it’s about the most important person in my life. My love, my light, my muse.” y/n spoke eyes trained on Emily the entire time. The room awed and cheered happily at the mention of their favorite artist’s secret girlfriend. “I’m lucky to have her here with me tonight and I know she’s going to hate me for this but I wanna do something a lil different for my last show. Em, will you sing with me?”

Emily’s face was beyond red. She was staring at her girlfriend in shock and awe. Not only had she just told this room of people she was the muse for most of her discography but now she wanted her to get up on the stage to sing with her. She was shaking her head in disbelief and fear before she could even think about it. And she looked at her girlfriend like she’d grown a second head.

This only made y/n smile more, “Please Em. You’re my favorite duet partner and I’ve missed singing with you more than anything.”

Emily was cracking. Between y/n’s words and the adorable pout she was sporting there was only so much more she could take from the woman she loved before giving in.

“Everyone, let’s give her some encouragement. Can we chant ‘Emily!’? y/n asked the audience and like the loyal fans they are, their screams filled the room. And there was really nothing Emily could do at that point. Throwing her hands up in surrender, she walked toward the stage looking extremely nervous as the room cheered.

y/n moved to help Emily up the stairs and onto the stage with a blinding smile. “I can’t believe you just did that.” Emily grumbled softly as she rested her forehead against her girlfriend’s.

“Kinda surprised you came up.” y/n grinned so hard her cheeks hurt.

“Well, you unfortunately know that i will do anything for you baby. and you sure know how to milk it.” Emily replied and smiled as y/n pulled her toward the stool. She sat Emily down and turned toward the crowd.

“Alright everybody, this is the last one. If you know it sing along.” y/n placed the microphone on the mic stand. She could practically feel Emily’s nerves radiating off of her but knew once this moment would live with them for as long as they lived. y/n stood between her legs and placed a kiss on her nose lovingly before cueing the band to start the song. “Just you and me, like at home.” She coaxed before she started singing the opening line of the song.

“Come to me slowly. It's when you talk close enough that I feel it on my skin, breathe it in.”

The room buzzed in anticipation when y/n nudged Emily softly and stroked her cheek in encouragement. Emily was nervous but she truly felt like she could do anything with her girlfriend’s eyes trained on her. “Most of these days I don’t get too intimate. Why would I let you in? But I think again.”

y/n smiled instantly, throwing in some of the background vocals while Emily sang. She started timidly but with the love shining in y/n’s eyes, she grew more confident with the words. Plus the cheers from the audience helped quite a bit. They joined together sweetly, Emily taking the melody and y/n harmonizing with her as they went. “I don’t even try. I don’t have to think. With you, there’s no pretending.”

When they got to the chorus y/n smiled and turned her head to the crowd, “Come on everyone, You know me, you know me. And I just might know you too.”

The smiles on both women’s faces were permanent as y/n pulled Emily up to dance with her across the stage. In a room surrounded by people who loved her girlfriend, she knew without a doubt that none of them could compete with her. They finished the song with the help of the crowd and when the music came to an end, everyone screamed their appreciation. y/n grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her into center stage with a laugh.

“DC, give it up for the love of my life!” And despite y/n’s hand on the small of her back, Emily timidly tried to hide from the praise. The applause died down a bit and they wished everyone a farewell before heading backstage.

Finally in the quiet of her dressing room, y/n pulled Emily into a bruising kiss. Pulling away was not a priority, but when it became a necessity their foreheads rested together.

“DC give it up for the love of my life?” Emily teased.

“Yeah. That’s you.” y/n shrugged with a smile.

“Mmhmm, is that so?” Emily asked, squeezing her waist.

“It better be so. I’m sure it’s all over the internet by now babe.”

Emily groaned, “Of course it is. You are so lucky I love you.”

y/n shrugged with a smile and reached up to pinch Emily’s cheek, “Oh I know baby, and I wake up every morning so grateful. And lucky me, I get to wake up in your arms for the next three months.”

Emily sighed happily, pulling the singer into a hug. She mentally prayed for the serial killers of the world to chill out for the foreseeable future and kissed y/n’s head. “Welcome home my love.”

-

y/n

liked by prentissemily, and 9,000 others

dc, i love you. but not as much as i love em.

thank you for an amazing first tour. my heart is so full and i can’t wait for the next one. y/n 2 loading…

ps. whoever took that second picture— i owe you my LIFE

pennythegreat @prentissemily — rue when was this?

prentissemily literally what does this mean?

prentissemily my superstar xx

y/n my muse xx

[blackknight-kai]

I don't usually ask people questions of any kind, but seeing that you write, I thought I'd dapple a bit.

(Fluff or whichever direction your mind takes thins, idrc)

If Wukong/ Destined One and their person of interest were to be chillin in a valley or in the woods or looking at the stars or doing anything besides kickin monster ass, what would they be saying to each other or thinking?

Hiya!! (Thank you for the ask 🫶🫶)

Honestly I think this really and truly depends!

Everyone is a bit different. I try not to give specifics when it comes to reader tooooooo much so immersion isn’t broken too bad. Same with OC, (one day I’ll share mine)

But I think conversation could go many ways.

Are either of you sad? Happy? Content? Angry?

I like to think I’m quiet moments they’d spend time getting to know each other. Or at least learning more about each other.

It wouldn’t be all 1 kind of conversation either. Sometimes playful, sometimes serious, sometimes melancholy….I think though you would cherish the time you have together.

Trading stories, past experiences, random thoughts, beliefs, or debating things. Maybe you’d talk about nothing at all - just simple things like food or how you had rock under your back all night while you slept.

I think he’d definitely listen to you - Wukong may SEEM like he’s not (he’s a playful jerk) but he is. DO is always listening.

Wukong would be a chatty Cathy. DO would be more reserved (depending on if you hc as talking a little or never).

I think in softer moments he would be wonderful, talking lowly and softly with you (DO maybe makes low soft noises of acknowledgment or quiet version of sounds he has for certain responses). The atmosphere warm and comforting between you.

Sometimes, you guys just sit in silence. Basking in the peace and each others company.

I feel like Wukong would always lean on the playful banter side unless he knows it’s serious. DO is usually more on the serious side but there’s a playful monkey in there that likes to come out. Both would tease you or joke with you in their own ways.

I think really he’d be a wonderful friend and partner to talk with. To just be with and enjoy his company.

(If you’re gonna go spicy talk well, Wukong is all about it and will spicy talk your ear off, good luck! DO takes some warming up at first but he’s just as bad as Wukong once you get him comfy. He’s a shy peanut first.)

At the end of the day he just loves being near you and with you and loves hearing your voice or making you laugh. Or comforting you. Wants to be your rock and you his home.

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Interlude A

Read on AO3

<<First Chapter - < Prev Chapter - Chapter Index

Contains: No Y/N (2nd POV but Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Plus-sized Reader/OC, female Reader/OC, John goes to mandated therapy, Manipulation, domestic daydreams, abuse of CIA connections, hey Kate's here!

~3.3k - MDNI - Less of a darkfic at this point, but just be mindful

It’s strange to be back in London.

John still comes here once a week— A staunch refusal to switch to a new therapist, even if it would save him the short flight from Aberdeen Airport every Friday, his whole day eaten away by travel and the hour appointment with Dr. Clara.

He doesn’t like her. She thinks he’s stubborn and resistant.

She’s probably right.

For the first time, he thinks it might be a good idea to switch. Or stop coming in personally, conduct therapy online. Being away from Dalisay bothers him. He doesn’t like that she’s alone in the house. If something happened, he’d be so far away. She’d seen him off, kissed him at the door, said she’d make dinner for when he got back. She wasn’t going anywhere. She didn’t want to. He had to trust her, even if it was a difficult thing to do.

It would probably kill him if he came home to an empty house.

“How have you been, John?” Kate’s voice on the phone sounds worried. He must have been in bad shape when he saw her last week. He hardly remembers. He feels like his old self again, centred, steady.

“Good. Better. Soap introduced me to someone.” Introduced being a generous term for what happened. “She’s been stayin’ with me.”

“You’re seeing someone?” The surprise in her voice is palpable. “John—”

“She’s somethin’ special, Kate. You’d like her.”

Kate hums in a way that implies that she doesn’t believe him. “What’s her name?” she asks, faux-casual. She wants to look Doll up.

“Dalisay Valmorida.” In truth, he wants to know more too. Without any resources, he couldn’t find much. Doll kept her social media private, and snooping through her email hadn’t revealed much of anything either, except lead him to a totally anonymized profile on a kink website that told him that she was interested in submission and ropes (could she be any more perfect?), and had a few pictures of the prettiest tits he’d ever seen. She has a tattoo on her ribs, apparently, floral and intricate, and he wants to drag his teeth over it. Hopes he gets a chance to. “But I’m not worried. She’s a sweetheart, Kate.”

“She’s staying with you?”

“Yeah.” He wracked his brain for something that wouldn’t sound both criminal and insane. "She was living in a bad neighbourhood, and lost her nanny job. Soap—”

Kate makes an amused sound. “Thought you needed looking after, huh?”

“Somethin’ like that. We were in a position to help each other, I s’pose.”

“How long has she been there? You didn’t mention her when I saw you last week.”

“She’s only been there since Friday night. Her place got broken into, we moved up the timeline.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Kate, there’s lots of things I’m not telling you.

“John, when you say you’re seeing her…”

“It’s new. It’s nice. I have a good feeling about Doll. I’m trying not to rush things, but you know me.”

“Well. Let’s grab lunch after your session. I’ll see what I can dig up before then. Usual place?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Alright. See you then.” She hangs up, brusque as ever.

He gets off the tube at the next stop and walks to the low-rise office building his therapist works out of. Greets Brenda that works the front desk, sits in the waiting room. He’s fifteen minutes early, just like always.

He sends Doll a text while he’s waiting, just asking how her morning’s going, and gets a response almost right away, a picture of the puppy they’d gone to see last week. The picture’s blurry, the pup too excited to hold still.

Doll: Mel came by after she dropped the kids off at school. We’re having tea at hers (:

John: Have fun, sweetheart.

His chest loosens a bit. She wasn’t planning on leaving him. She’s making friends with his friends, putting down tentative roots. He didn’t have to worry. He didn’t have to worry. He thinks about talking to Melissa about adopting the little thing. Seeing Doll coo and fuss over a puppy would probably make him act like a fool, but she’s been forgiving about the more honest things he’s said so far.

"John?" Dr. Clara calls him in. "Nice to see you. How was your trip down?"

"Fine. Same as always." John sits in the usual chair, and looks around the room like usual, clocking everything in it's usual space, except the tissue box on the table and a trashcan sitting closer to the chair than it’s usual position. Every other week the appointment just before his is a watery sort of woman, but he had been looking at his phone rather than at the door, letting himself relax enough to not notice the woman leave the room. "How are you?" Its a perfunctory question, going through the motions of politeness.

"Good." Dr. Clara settles into her own chair, notebook out. She's close to his age, beautiful in a cold, precise sort of way. Thin, a perfectly straight razor sharp bob framing her face. "Who were you texting?" she asks.

This throws off their rhythm. Usually she starts by asking if he'd done any of the journaling she asked him to do (he never did), and then if he'd gone down to the local legion to connect with other veterans (he hadn't).

"I— She's a friend. Of Soap's. Stayin' with me for a bit. String of bad luck, poor thing, lost her job and her apartment got broken into in the same week." The half truth comes more easily the second time. "She was really shook up."

"And you don't find the introduction of a new person into your routine disruptive?"

John frowns. "I think her comin’ along was disruptive in a good way. I needed to change some things around."

Dr. Clara raises her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Eatin' better. Couldn't be arsed to cook just for me, but I'm gettin' three squares a day now. Haven't had a drink since Saturday. She likes a cuppa around the same time I'd usually have a night cap. Sleepin' a bit better." He bites back a smile. "The other day, I was workin' outside while she painted-- She's an artist, and a bloody good one— and she reminded me to rest my ankle. Still gets sore when I push too hard."

"Tell me more about her."

"We're still getting to know each other, but she's sweet. Patient. Not afraid to tell me what she thinks."

"Why would she be afraid?"

"I can be… well, you know how I can be. And she's just a soft little thing. Wouldn't blame her if she was nervous." John shrugged. "She's beautiful too.. Brightens up the whole room when she smiles. And funny. Makes clever comments. And has this way of celebrating moments for no reason at all. Had me spinnin' around in the rain the other day. Thinkin' about gettin' her a puppy."

Dr. Clara taps the end of her pencil on her notepad, clearly conflicted. This is the most John's spoken in a session without her having to pull it out of him word by word, but… "A puppy? John don't you think that might not be an appropriate gift for a woman you've known for, um…" she looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to fill in the gap.

"Well. A week," John admits. "But we've got a real connection. Something special."

"Is she planning on staying with you long term?"

"She might. I'd like her to."

"So you have intense feelings for a woman you don't know, and all your short-lived progress is based on her presence, is that what you're saying?"

John's eyes narrow. Of course it sounds crazy to her. She doesn't know Dalisay. "I know her."

"Do you? You met her just a week ago, John." Dr. Clara sighs. "Do you think maybe you see winning her over as a mission? That you're returning to that rigid military mindset that brought you to me in the first place?"

John shakes his head. "It wasn't the military mindset that brought me here. It was those damn pills."

"John—"

"No, I know what you're going to say. Don't bother."

“John. If you know what I’m about to say, I’d like to hear you say it.”

He huffs, and looks away, drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair. It’s hard to meet her steely gaze for long. He doesn’t like being scrutinized, and that’s all these sessions are. "You'd usually say something like, almost losing Soap led me to take risks I shouldn't've, that I blame myself for his injury, that the stress of trying to make sure my team never got hurt in a field where getting hurt is inevitable put me under tremendous stress, and that my own injury left me with nothing but time to contemplate my guilt. The pain killers were a way to turn the feelings off."

Dr. Clara nods, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "So you do listen."

"I don't see what this has to do with Dalisay."

She gives him a pitying look over her reading glasses. "You don't give yourself room to make mistakes, John. That inflexibility is the problem. If you build good habits on someone else's foundations, what happens if they leave? You'll be right back where you started."

“You’re so sure she’ll leave?”

Dr. Clara sets her notebook down in her lap and leans forward, hands clasped together. “It’s not about her, John. It’s about you. You are worth doing this work for. You have to be able to stand on your own two feet. People are fallible. Things happen, we lose people we care about. It’s part of living. The only person you can’t live without is John Price.”

He crosses his arms. “You told me I needed to make connections with other people.”

“I did. And you still should. But this is not what I meant and you damn well know it. Jumping into a relationship when you’re still struggling like this is not going to be healthy. You’re headed for codependency at best. If you really care about this woman, you need to consider what she needs too. If she told you she was seeing a veteran that struggles with substance abuse, that turns any negative feelings into anger, that can’t compromise or be flexible, that needs to be in control—”

“I get it. I’d tell her she deserves better.”

“So be better, John. Start with the journal. Actually buy one before you go home. There’s a stationary shop down around the corner.”

He snorts. “You get a commission for sending your patients there?”

“Yes, John, you’ve unearthed my diabolical plot. I’m in cahoots with the stationary store,” she says dryly. “It doesn’t matter where you buy the damn journal from. Write your feelings on the back of a receipt for all I care. Just try. If all you write down every day is that you hate that I’m making you do it, that’s still progress.”

“Alright, alright.” He supposes he can cede a little ground. Dr. Clara has been going on about that since their first session, so maybe there’s something to it.

He finds himself walking into the stationary store and breathing in the scent of paper and ink and glue. It reminds him of Doll’s art store. He wonders if she’d like a place like this. Probably. She’d probably tell him to listen to Dr. Clara too.

Running his fingers over the spines of the shelf of journals, he stops at one with a soft leather cover. He pulls it down and thumbs through the pages. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for exactly, but it has lines and a spot for the date at the top of each page, so that’s probably good enough. The man at the counter asks if he needs a pen too, and he glances at the one the man’s holding, a fountain pen with a shiny wood-grain finish, and swallows the no that nearly leaves his tongue.

“Sure. Yeah.”

He meets Kate at a pub not far from the London base. She’s still working, of course, just like he should be, but unlike him, she didn’t have a breakdown that cost him everything. When things happen that Kate can’t handle, she can beak down privately, and her wife puts her back together, better than new. He’s been envious of that for a long time, of that stability that Kate gets to come home to.

She’s working on something, tapping away at her phone when he settles across from her, but she glances up and gives him an apologetic smile. “Hey, John. Just give me a second, I have to finish replying to this email.”

He just nods, used to this. Kate’s always in the middle of something. He waits patiently while she works, and quietly orders a tea when the server comes around to ask.

He doesn't miss the questioning look from Kate. She sets her phone down and really studies him, eyes narrowed.

"What?" He asked.

"We've gotten together for lunch almost every week for the past year, and this is the first time you haven't ordered a beer."

"Don't feel like having one."

"You're sleeping better too. You look good, John."

He couldn't deny that he felt better. More like himself. Settled in his skin, engines rumbling, ready for anything. "I guess Doll's been a good influence. You looked her up?"

"I did. Not much of a presence online. Found an old art blog that she hasn't updated for years, has a couple of very sparse social media accounts. Was two years into a fine arts degree from Manchester university when she switched to english lit. Worked part time as an educational assistant in an elementary school, and then started working for Kevin and Isla Kinsey five years ago."

"That's it?" He's not sure if that's a relief or a disappointment. He knows most of that already.

"No. She's had some involvement in anti-war groups, nothing major, but I pulled that thread all the way to the terrorist attack on Piccadilly Circus back in 2019. Her parents were both killed."

"Huh." That explained a lot.

"Michelle actually knows her. She curated a show that Angela— her mother— was featured in. That's why they were in London in the first place."

"Christ. No wonder she dropped painting for so long."

"Has she picked it back up? She should call Michelle once she's put a few things together. She has what Michelle calls a compelling story."

"I'll let her know." He sighs. "Anything else?"

"She's an only child, but there’s lots of family in the Philippines, a grandmother in Aberdeen. A few cousins in Canada and the states. Pretty much all clean, keep out of trouble types. There's not much more I can tell you from my end, unless you want me digging through the filing cabinet at her old therapist's office. Old school, offline records." Kate shrugs. "I could. But I think you'd be better off just talking to her."

"Probably. Thanks, Kate. Kinda had it in my head that she was too good to be true." John flashes a smile at the server when she brings him his tea, and orders a salad, which really has Kate looking at him like he's mad.

"You keep this up, you could come back to work," she says. "You just need Clara to sign off on you. Which means consistency."

"Yeah. I'm tryin' her journal idea. Not sure that I'd go back anyway. Maybe it was just time." A few weeks ago, he would be chomping at the bit to go back. But now that there’s something else to give him some purpose, he’s not sure he wants to.

"Up to you. You're not there yet anyway. Now, I want to hear about this girl from your side." Kate picks up her soda (always diet, always something caffeinated) and gives him a pointed look.

He talks about Doll for a bit, gets a bit more work talk out of Kate, and when they part ways, they tentatively talk about Kate and Michelle coming up to meet her before long. It’s a nice thought. He'd like to get the lads back up too, but Kate’s a safer bet to start. Doll might forgive the boys if they grovel enough, and if things are looking promising between her and John. It's always easier to justify an overstep if the results are ultimately positive, so he has to make sure that Dalisay is happy and settled before he considers it.

It'll be a tough road if she doesn't want to reconcile with them. Not impossible, but he wants all of his people to get along. He wants his kids to know the men that have stood by him for all these years.

He sends a few texts to Dalisay, but there’s no response. He spends the short flight rationalizing why she might not have noticed her phone. Maybe she’d left it in her purse when she got back from Mel’s, or let the battery run out. She wouldn’t leave without telling him. She wouldn’t.

By the time he gets to his truck, he’s convinced that something’s happened.

He makes the hour drive back in forty minutes, parks erratically, and runs for the house, gravel sliding under his feet, his ankle twinging.

He tumbles through the door, half expecting a disaster, a crime scene, and instead sees something out of his most revisited domestic daydreams, set to some bouncy sort of pop music.

Dalisay is leaning over the stove, hips moving to the music, wearing a pretty floral skirt, socks pulled up over her thick calves to the knee, her feet sliding on the tiles as she moves. Her soft dark hair is up in a messy bun, a pencil and a paintbrush stuck through it. The whole house smells amazing, whatever she has cooking sure to be well worth the light lunch. There's a painting started on a canvas set up in the living room, just a soft gradient of blue and gold. And best of all, when she does a little spin and notices him at last, she beams at him. "John! You're home!"

"I am," he agrees, grinning back when she throws herself into his arms, squeezing him tight around the middle. He wraps his own arms around her shoulders, relishing the press of her soft little body against his. "How was your day, Doll?"

"It was really nice! I had a good time chatting with Mel, and I made dinner. And dessert even." She doesn't make any move to pull away, just looks up at him, pretty dark eyes fixed on his face. There’s an echo of relief in her eyes too, like she had been as worried about him, as he had been about her. "I'm glad you're home safe. You really go all the way down to London every week?"

He nodded. "I could change doctors, but I get lunch with a friend while I'm there— Kate. You'd like her. Maybe, once you're settled in a bit more, we could invite her and her wife up for dinner."

"Oh, that would be nice. So long as she's more sane than the friends I've met so far."

"Considerably. Can I kiss you hello?"

She hummed, as though she were considering it, although the laughing look in her eye said yes long before she gave a verbal affirmation.

He's the luckiest man in the world, he thinks as he leans down to kiss her soft lips.

Things are looking up. Things are good. And it's all thanks to to her.

He's going to make her the happiest woman in the entire world. She deserves nothing less. She deserves his best too, and he’s determined to be a better man than he has been in a long while.

She breaks the kiss by dropping her heels back to the floor. “Are you hungry? Dinner’s almost ready. We have time for a cup of tea first, if you’d like.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Image Credits: Banner - Banner Background - Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 11

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 3380

Warnings: Lots of inuendos, Lots of insinuations (nothing actually happens), some fluff, Dean being Dean (yes, this is a warning), some alcohol, thoughts pertaining to the reader's toy, little bit of angst.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 11

You weren’t in the mood for much of anything after you’d heard that and had spent most of the day sitting on your bed attempting to read a book. Your phone had been left abandoned in the kitchen at some point. It wasn’t that the book wasn’t interesting, it was just that your mind was on other things.

Dean gave you space, letting you spend the day in your room. You’d even stayed in your pajamas and hadn’t bothered brushing your hair. On top of everything, the mark on your collarbone was burning again. However, at the moment, you were being far too stubborn to deal with it.

A knock on your doorframe pulled your gaze from your book, and there was Dean, a playful smirk on his face. “You know, Sweetheart, I think you’re far more stubborn than I am,” he teased, injecting a hint of levity into the room.

“Why do you say that?” you asked, setting your book down on the bed next to you.

All he did was hold up the cream in his hand, which elicited an eye roll from you. You wanted to ask him how he always seemed to know, but at the moment, you weren’t in the mood. He gently applied the cream to your mark as you watched his expression.

How does he do that? It’s like he doesn’t want me to figure out what’s going through his head. It’s so frustrating. But, somehow, he always seems to know exactly what the hell is wrong with me. It’s not fair.

“What’s got you so frustrated?” he asked, his gaze fixed on your mark as he applied the cream.

“How are you doing that?” you asked, doing your best not to sound frustrated or annoyed that he seemed to read you like a book.

“Why can’t you just answer my question?” he asked, looking up at you through his thick lashes for a moment.

You grumbled and looked away from him, “Lots of things have me frustrated, and I feel like I have cabin fever,” you mumbled, but it was only half true. “I’ll probably journal about it when you’re done,” you added, looking away from those damn emerald orbs that always pulled you in.

Dean finished up and capped the cream with a light sigh before he looked at you again. When he cupped your cheek and looked into your eyes, you practically held your breath. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to go through this alone,” he told you softly before gently pressing his lips to your forehead and then leaving your room.

I hate it when he does that, the thought making you grumble quietly through a pout. You grabbed your journal and began writing, just wanting to get all your thoughts out of your head in hopes that they would stop. 

The aroma of searing meat began wafting into your room sometime later. You closed your eyes and breathed the scent deep into your lungs through your nose, licking your lips. Setting down your journal, you made your way to the kitchen, your stomach now growling as the aroma only intensified.

“You really need to stop skipping lunch,” Dean chuckled from where he stood at the stove.

You licked your lips again but then wiped your mouth, realizing you were drooling a little. “I wasn’t hungry,” you replied absentmindedly, making your way to the stove.

It was a sight to behold after the last couple of months of weird concoctions that Dean had come up with. Two beautiful, thick steaks cooking in a cast iron skillet, sizzling away and seasoned in a tantalizing way that teased your senses.

“If I knew all it took was some cooking meat to make you drool, I would have gone looking for some months ago,” he teased you, doing his best not to chuckle too much in amusement.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, swallowing again as your mouth watered.

God, I missed steak.

He did chuckle at that, “Have a seat, it’s almost done,” he managed through bouts of amusement.

“But, I can’t look away,” you mumbled, licking your lips, then pulling your bottom one between your teeth for a moment, and you missed Dean’s expression, which was probably a good thing.

You did notice how a low groan came from him, making you look up at him a little puzzled. You straightened yourself up a little, realizing you had partially leaned over his arm to get a better view of the steaks, and sat down at the table. At least your thoughts about everything else had stopped, for now.

Your eyes never left Dean, although that was more because he was standing in front of the stove. Your thoughts were only on the steak he was cooking. It wasn’t like you and Dean were lacking in any sort of nourishment, as the non-perishables were plenty healthy. No, you just missed steak or more; you missed meat. Canned meat was definitely not the same, no matter how good a cook Dean was.

He plated the steak, some corn, and mashed potatoes with gravy and set one in front of you. Your eyes never left the plate, and his eyes never left you as he sat across from you. “Hope you like it, Sweetheart,” he told you, and you could hear the smirk in his words.

You licked your lips once before cutting into your steak, then savoring that first bite with your eyes closed, making sounds of delight. Although, out of context, they probably sounded sinful. You didn’t even hear Dean shift slightly in his seat. 

“My God, Dean,” you practically moaned, still savoring the tender and juicy piece of steak in your mouth.

You opened your eyes slowly, a very happy smile on your lips as you looked over at him. However, your expression went to curiosity when you saw how his breathing had changed slightly, and he almost looked flushed.

“You okay?” you asked, a little puzzled.

Dean coughed in an attempt to clear his throat as he looked away from you, “Glad you like it,” he barely got out in a surprisingly gruffer tone than you were used to.

For a moment, you watched him debating, wondering what was going through his head and why he seemed frustrated. He hadn’t answered your question either. “Well, are you okay?” you asked a little hesitantly.

“Yeah. I’m good,” he replied quickly, not even looking up at you.

Then why won’t you look at me?

Grumbling silently, you went back to enjoying the amazing meal he had cooked for the two of you. There were a few more times that those sounds left your lips as you enjoyed your steak. You couldn’t help it. You would have even said it was the best steak you’d ever had in your life, but figured that was more because of how long it had been since you’d had any.

After dinner, you took care of the dishes. He’d cooked, so it was your way of showing him how you appreciated his cooking skills. While you did that, he went and showered. Your mind wandered again, mostly wondering what he’d been thinking about during dinner that had kept him so quiet. You headed into the living room and plopped down on the couch, still hearing the shower running, which seemed to be a little longer than he typically took, but didn’t stay on the thought. Your mark burned again, but you ignored it as your thoughts drifted back to when he’d kissed you. A smile tugged at your lips at the memory and the feelings it brought up.

Slowly, you let your fingertips glide across your lips as the memory played out. Then, quickly pushed it away, shifting how you were sitting on the couch. Another twenty minutes had passed, and he was still in the bathroom, and the shower was still going.

What the hell is taking him so long?

With that thought, you went to the bathroom, and just as you were about to knock, you heard him moan, deeply. 

Oh…

Now, you were attempting to get the image of Dean, naked in the shower, the water steaming down his body and his cock hard in his hand as you stood frozen just on the other side of the door. Your body began reacting to the sounds that came muffled from the bathroom, and your thighs rubbed together, almost instinctively.

Fuck, this is so wrong.

But that didn’t stop the image of him jerking off in the shower to get out of your head any faster. It wasn’t like you had remembered to grab your toy before the two of you had locked yourself in the bunker, but at the moment, you weren’t sure you’d need it. You heard another deep growl from him, and your walls clenched around nothing as your breath quickened.

Damnit!

Your room was near the bathroom, and you wondered if you dared to take care of yourself or if you had the time. You quickly calculated how long he’d already been in there, and when he moaned one more time, you knew you didn’t. I was deep but guttural. You even heard his hand hit the shower wall like he was attempting to steady himself.

Quickly, you went to your room and cleaned yourself up, changing your underwear. Now, you were utterly flustered in an entirely different way. All you could hope was that you could calm yourself down before he found his way to the living room. The shower, of course, stopped, and your eyes shot to your bedroom door.

Shit!

You slipped out of your room and into the living room as quietly but as quickly as you could, getting comfortable on the couch. You knew your face was flushed, and you felt far too warm, even in the thin material of the pajama pants and tank top. Dean emerged from the bathroom minutes later, dressed, but his hair was still damp, and it looked as though he hadn’t brushed it.

“Why don’t we go play some pool?” he suggested, seeming quite relaxed now.

“Oh. I thought you’d just want to watch another movie and call it an early night,” you replied, looking over at him, mentally cursing as sinful thoughts began drifting through your mind.

“Not tonight, Sweetheart. It’s New Year's Eve, and I saved a bottle of whiskey to celebrate,” he smirked.

Dear God, if you’re listening, please help me restrain myself.

“Sure, why not,” you replied, giving him a neutral smile and praying he wasn’t reading you like a damm book, which he had a tendency to do.

“I’ll meet you down there. Don’t need you finding my hiding spot,” he smirked, putting his hands on his hips. You rolled your eyes but headed down to the game room; your thoughts of nothing but him and God were they only getting more sinful. You mentally berated yourself as you set up the pool table for a game, grabbing a pool cue as Dean joined you. He did indeed have a bottle of whiskey and two glasses in hand, along with that damned smirk on his lips as he approached the pool table.

He poured you each a glass, holding yours out for you. Doing your best to focus on the glass and not his hand around it, you went over and gently took it from him.

“Happy New Year’s, Sweetheart,” he told you, gently tapping his glass against yours and giving you a slight nod.

“Happy New Year’s, Dean,” you replied, giving him a soft smile before taking a sip of the whiskey.

You hissed as it burned not only your tongue but all the way down your throat. It had been a while since you’d drank anything alcoholic. Making a mental note not to drink too much, figuring your tolerance had dropped drastically, you set your glass down on the border of the pool table. Dean grabbed a pool cue while you grabbed yours.

He seemed to have a cocky smirk as he turned to face the table, and you, then set his hands on the top of his cue, just watching you. You pulled your hair back into a ponytail with your cue tucked in your elbow, leaning it against your shoulder.

“Did you wanna go first?” you asked, finishing with your hair.

“Go ahead,” he replied fairly casually, but you swore there was a hint of something else there. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

You eyed him for a moment, then took the opening shot. Your mind wasn’t really focused on the game, as it was like your mind thought of every dirty innuendo for literally everything, like when the balls would roll and then slide down one of the pockets. It only made your body warmer, or was it the whiskey? You figured it was probably both.

The game played out, and you were losing, badly. You also swore Dean was teasing you on purpose but wouldn’t accuse him of that outright. It wasn’t anything direct, and that was why. The way he’d lick his lips after he sipped his whiskey. Or the way he slid the pool cue almost suggestively between his thumb and index finger. It was sinful, to say the least. 

Then, there was the way he’d look up at you through those thick lashes of his just before he’d take his shot, and his eyes never left yours. Your first drink had gone down quickly, and you were trying to nurse the second one. However, when the man bent over right in front of you to take his shot, you inhaled deeply, downing the rest of your drink.

“You alright, Sweetheart?” he asked you as he took another shot from another side of the pool table.

“Fine. Why do you ask?” you replied, trying to act as nonchalantly as possible and ignore the heat that only seemed to intensify within your body.

“You seem… distracted,” he said, glancing up at you with a knowing smirk.

It has to be a sin for anyone to look that fucking hot playing pool.

“I’m just out of practice,” you replied, waving your hand and playing it off, or at least attempting to.

Dean just chuckled and shook his a little, and you could have sworn he missed the shot on purpose. However, you knew you couldn’t call him on it and win that argument. He did notice that your drink was empty as you moved to take your shot, so as you missed yet another shot, he filled your glass again before you could protest.

“Definitly distracted,” he chuckled, capping the whiskey bottle.

You’d already begun feeling the light buzz from your first two glasses and knew you’d have to stop after this one. “Out of practice,” you argued, attempting to give him a serious glare.

“Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Sweetheart,” he teased, leaning over to take his shot.

Stupid thoughts, stupid hormones, stupid bunker. God, why did I have to forget my damned toy.

You weren’t mad at him, far from it, but you still refused to get your hopes up that he was your soulmate. Just because he said he could feel your emotions and the name on him was the same as yours wasn’t enough proof for you. Plus, you were stubborn. 

The smirk never left his lips during the rest of the game. You noticed how he watched you, even when he was taking his own shots. Briefly, you wondered if he could tell that you were turned on and wanted him, but there was no way you were going to ask that. One thing you noticed, he’d only poured himself one drink and never refilled it. 

He suggested another game after that one, but you weren’t in the mood, not for pool, at least. You also weren’t sure you could trust yourself to cuddle with him and watch a movie. Between the alcohol and your thoughts, you needed to take care of yourself so you could think straight again.

“I’ve had three. I think I’m gonna call it an early night,” you told him, feeling comfortably buzzed but also far more aroused than you’d had to deal with before.

“Come on, Sweetheart. Just one more,” he pouted, and you could tell he was trying to make you give in.

“Dean, that’s not fair,” you whined, doing your best not to think about just how plump and soft his lips looked when he pouted the way he was.

“Well, I cooked you an amazing steak and saved whiskey, your favorite, for tonight. It’s New Year’s Eve. Just one more game, please,” he told you, giving you the most adorable puppy dog expression you’d seen on him yet.

“You’re cheating when you do that,” you protested, wanting so badly to look away, then groaned. “Fine, one more game, then I’m going to bed.”

He grinned triumphantly and set up the next game. You attempted to concentrate on the game, but your mind refused to let you. Your thoughts were of Dean doing utterly sinful things to you on that pool table, and he wasn’t helping get your thoughts on anything else. He still wasn’t doing anything directly. It was all subtle, and it was driving your body up the wall.

There was no way you were winning this one either; you were far too distracted to focus on taking your shot, especially when Dean stood directly in front of where your focus needed to be. You’d glare at him, but all he would do was smirk in response. You weren’t mad at him; you were just sexually frustrated, and he wasn’t making it any easier, just by being his usual self. That was what was more infuriating than anything. He didn’t have to do anything to get to you.

“You really are out of practice,” he chuckled when the game was over as he followed you back upstairs.

“I told you,” you huffed, praying that he really had believed that. 

“Looks like we’ll have to play more often. Get you back into practice,” he replied, sounding far too amused for your liking.

“I don’t see why not. I’m sure the whiskey didn’t help my chances any,” you retorted.

Dean chuckled again and followed you toward your room, at which point you stopped and turned to him, “Why are you following me?”

“Just wanted to give you a hug, since I know you won’t be staying up with me to watch a movie, and I don’t get my cuddles,” he replied with that devilish smirk of his.

You rolled your eyes but gave him a hug. As you wrapped your arms around his back, the scent that was all his engulfed your senses. You felt his arms around you, and there was a sense of safety there. Leaning your head against his chest, you sighed. 

That was when it hit you, almost like a ton of bricks. You didn’t want to let him go, and oddly enough, it had nothing to do with how your body felt. Dean rested his chin on the top of your head, just holding you close as the emotions rushed through your body.

No one in the town had wanted much to do with you, at least not anyone that wasn’t family. Now, there was Dean, who’d become your best friend. You didn’t want to let go of him, but you also couldn’t let yourself go with him. You knew that if you gave in and allowed yourself to get that close, that intimate, it’d only hurt more when your soulmate’s name fully appeared. If it wasn’t his, you weren’t sure you’d be able to go through that sort of heartache.

He’d begun pulling away, so you did the same, taking a step back and giving him a small smile, “See you in the morning. Try to get some sleep.” “You too, Sweetheart,” he replied, giving you a soft smile, but he didn’t come closer.

You closed your door and crawled into bed, snuggling up with your pillow in the darkness. A single tear slipped down your cheek when you finally let the thought you’d been fighting slip past your lips.

“I love him…” you whispered into the darkness.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 12

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