#just all rings yikes
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mollysunder · 2 months ago
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All the concept art of young Silco really drives home how thoroughly Vander destroyed him. It's like night and day where young Silco is relaxed, healthy, handsome, and genuinely happy, older Silco is rigid, guarded, scarred, and his condition is actively deteriorating. Even though Vander failed to drown Silco, he really did kill him in every way that mattered.
It's even worse when you think about Silco and Vander through a shipping lens as the concept art and the peacetime au does. When you do, you see Vander committed a horrific act of violence on his partner, and the community took Vander's side years after the fact.
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misspermitted · 4 months ago
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I’m on board with the “Adar was/is Celeborn” theory purely because I want this crack exchange -
Adar/Celeborn: You cheated on me with Sauron!
Galadriel: Well you also cheated on me with Sauron so the scales are balanced
Adar/Celeborn: What?? In what-
Galadriel: You left me, your wife, for 1000 years, to have a family and children with him
Adar/Celeborn: Okay, well, you fell in love with him. Which means you weren’t even in love with me in the first place. Which is worse
Galadriel: YOU LITERALLY HAD HIS CHILDREN
Adar/Celeborn: You married me for all eternity wiTHOUT EVEN BEING IN LOVE WITH ME
High King Gil-Galad, to Elrond: Still think he’s fake and they’re not married?
Elrond: Oh no, I take it back, they’re definit- oh my god Galadriel do not challenge him to a duel there is nothing wrong with your womb gods above
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boyapologist · 2 months ago
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tell me why I just got this extreme wave of sadness after I was done doing house chores today
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hyugahell · 11 months ago
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Opinions on the rinnegan?
Hinata: It seems like a very powerful dōjutsu, just from remembering my brief encounter with Pain. Just visually alone it's... really odd and creepy to look at-
Hiashi: They look weird.
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hoshigray · 9 months ago
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Hiiii, I have a request- could you do like jealous or after arguement smex- you can pick any sort of of storyline or any jjk character. (prefferbly a character like sukuna or toji because i feel like they'd be kind mean about it)
Tyy
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oof, i think after an argument, sex w/kuna would go crazyyy (esp true form! like yikes)
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - fingering (f! receiving) - impact play (spanking + pussy slaps) - clitoral play (grinds, swipes, and pinches) - biting - pinching - degradation (bitch, whore) - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - backshots/doggy position - pet names ([little]dove, my wife, pet, woman) - multiple orgasms - mention of drool/spit and blood.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k
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You dare avoid him? The King of Curses? Did the screws in your brain finally come loose, and now you’ve gone mad?
Ryōmen Sukuna rarely lets things slide. He is considered the top dog of the cursed Jujutsu world – he doesn’t find himself bowing down to things because things are supposed to bow to him. Anything and everything doesn’t go unnoticed under his gaze, as that’s the order of things that are supposed to happen.
And this philosophy doesn’t stop with you — his little dove.
Being engaged to a human spouse already raises flags of inconsistency. It isn’t rare for you and Sukuna to argue; the workers of the fortress where you reside can attest to this. The love is there, but Sukuna expects you to understand your standing in this marriage. You may be what he always keeps by his side. However, even you shouldn’t overstep him so carelessly.
Nonetheless, your humanness continues to poke him; your resilience is a thorn to your giant husband’s side. The more disagreements you clash with him, the bolder you’ve become in your standing, which makes the cursed man proud, albeit prefers it wasn’t directed towards him. 
And now, after he puts his thunderous foot down and shuts you up with your bickering, you decide to be courageous enough to turn your back on him? Him? Your betrothed? He couldn’t believe what he saw; your expression molded to neutrality before you turned on your heel and headed somewhere away from him. And then you don’t respond when he calls out to you — the absolute nerve.
Oh, you knew Sukuna wasn’t the one to be daring with, especially when you think you can get the last laugh. So, it would be best if he corrected your foolishness. 
“—Dahhh! Su’kunaa, stop! Let go—Ohhh!”
“Shut your mouth. Think you’re in any position to order me now, huh?”
He has you pinned to the tatami flooring, his upper hand on your head to keep your cheek printed on the mat despite your cries. The upper right hand has a good hold on your waist while his lower right hand grips your ankle to keep your legs spread. And with the lower left, he uses it to tease and toy with your chasm. The mouth of his chasm laps around your labia to lick the fluids that coat your slit while his middle and ring fingers grind on your sore clitoris.
This is your punishment: your husband reprimanding you as he gesticulates around your body. You can cry and holler all you want, squirm out of his hold when knowing your efforts are futile. He doesn’t care because he knows that he will make this point to you no matter what.
The tongue of his palm easily swallows your essence, pushing the muscle into your cunt to fuck you. You nearly choke on spit, sensing the considerable muscle swirl around your insides and graze your walls. “Mmph! Oh, fuck—Nnnm! Sukuna, no! I just came seconds ag—Oooh!”
“Do I care?” He raises his sole pink brow, four red eyes scanning your figure, writhing because of his touch. “You will cum however many times I say, my wife.” He draws out the last words to your ear, enjoying how small you appear under his massive shape. 
He lives for your shrieks, your pitch going higher and higher with every flick of his tongue. Swiping your clit makes it harder to maintain balance, your resolve slipping through your fingers with every push and pull of the abnormal tongue.
“Hahhh, ahhhshit, shiiiit,” your eyebrows scrunch together, nails purchasing on the tatami mat beneath you, which you’re sure your scratches would cause damage. Again, not that your jerk of a spouse would care; he is probably getting a kick out of you losing your poise because of him. “Ooh, ‘Kunaa, y’re going too fast…Nnnn !”
“Oh? Does the dove think I’m going too fast?” Sukuna licks the helix of your ear tantalizingly slow, and you gasp when he bites it while the mouth of his palm sloppily kisses the entrance of your vagina. “You wish to cum again, woman?”
You nod hurriedly, his chuckle rumbling to the core of your heart. The hand on your waist comes up to smack your ass, denting the skin by piercing his fingertips. You howl in pain, “Yesss, I wanna cum again!” 
“Hmph, no,” he removes his hand from your throbbing folds before slapping it; the abrupt action erupts a choked sob. Screams fly out at the pinch of his fingers on your delicate bud; the pain from your chasm stings, making your head pound. “You’re not some whore who gets to cum when they want; you’re mine, and cumming without my permission will get you into predicaments worse than this. Are we clear, pet?”
You had no choice in the matter, propping your ass up and your face down, forcing you to take his two cocks with both of your holes. 
“Aiishhh, oh Lord, Shhlow down! I’m t’oo full…!” 
“Mmnn, khheh, I bet you are, grippin’ on my cocks like a real bitch in heat…”
His lower hands keep hold of your hips, keeping you glued to his pelvis as he pistons his fat dicks into your ass and vagina. The tip brushes on your inner walls, and you mewl at every push as the girth stretches your caves. His upper hands keep you held down to the floor, submitting you to his robust stature that easily swallows your small frame.
Your face is still on the floor, drool trickling down your lips as ineligible babbles seep out. “Nnmahh, ahhaa…!” God, he puts so much strength on your poor body; the inability to move or move away from him keeps you immovable for him. 
Sukuna’s pace is unforgiving, propelling himself into your leaky wetness with no remorse. The fact that he has you come two times already doesn’t concern him; if anything, it aids him in pushing to and fro from your tight cunt. He bites his lip from how your rear contracts around him—so snug for his dual limbs as if you’d milk him dry.
“Fsshoo, ohhmy Go—Daah!” A hand finds its way to the left wrist on your shoulder. “Ohh, ‘Kunaa!”
Your wails are broken when he bends down; the added weight is so lethal that you might end up being pressed and being one with the tatami mat. “Hmm? What is it, woman?”
“—Ahhck! Fuuuhuck, pleaseee, can I pwease cu–Uhhmm?!”
You make him snicker, pulling back his rhythm to implement slow yet harsh ruts to your openings while throwing a slap to your asscheek. “Why should I let you?” 
A tear rolls down your hot cheek. “Pleasee, forg’ve me! I shouldn’t have…turned my back on you...”
Crimson eyes narrow while observing the way your ass quakes from his powerful pounds. Sukuna then comes to your shoulder to bite on your shoulder, and of course, you yelp bitterly. The sight of his canines drawing blood from his mark dials his excitement. “Say it properly, pet,” he purrs as he licks the wound on your shoulder.
“Mmmm! Suk’naa, my Lord…”
“Hmm?” He cups and squeezes your cheeks with his upper left for access to kiss your neck, and the lower left snakes down to play with your clit again. You gasp from the sensation of the tongue of his stomach licking your back, the colossal muscle having you arch like a cat.
Rubs on your pearl have you squeaking for him and eyes rolling upward— all desperate and aching for your release that you could break any moment. “Forgive me for stepping out of line...Hooooh, I wanna cum on yer cocks,” you admit while swaying your hips. “Please allow me to cum.”
“Depends,” you gulp at his quick answer. “This will be your only kind warning for this; if you dare do it again, don’t ever think of asking me.” Sukuna licks your cheek before he chews on the flesh, your breath halting at the graze of his fangs. “Understand?”
Your brave side takes over to turn to him meekly, watery eyes meeting his fierce red ones – a good move on your part. “Yess, my husband…”
And he sneers. “There you go, little dove.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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solelifauna · 1 month ago
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With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)
Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.
If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏
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The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.
You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.
“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.
“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.
“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.
How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?
You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.
“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.
“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.
“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”
“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”
“Im guessing its about–”
“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”
“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.
“Kill me? Eat me?” 
She nodded.
You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”
“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.
“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”
“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”
“I’m aware.”
Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on. 
“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.
You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?
“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!
“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.
The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.
“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”
And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.
“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.
“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.
“Sorry, dumb question.”
“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.
Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.
Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”
Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.
Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”
“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”
As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.
When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.
But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.
The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.
You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.
“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.
Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.
“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”
Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.
You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.
Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.
The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?
You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless. 
As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline
Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.
“Im gonna kill myself.”
“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.
You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.
“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”
“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.
“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”
Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.
Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.
Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”
Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”
“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”
You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.
“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.
Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”
Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”
You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.
Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”
You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”
Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”
The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.
“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.
“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”
You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”
Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.
“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.
“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.
The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.
Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.
“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.
“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.
You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile. 
“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.
“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.
“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.
“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.
As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.
You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.
You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.
As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.
When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.
Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.
“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”
You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.
“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”
He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”
The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.
Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”
The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.
You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.
Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”
“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.
Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.
“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”
The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.
With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.
The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.
“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.
“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.
The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.
You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.
Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.
“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.
“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”
“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”
The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.
“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”
You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”
As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.
The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.
As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.
You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.
As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.
With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.
“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.
“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”
“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.
As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.
You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.
“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.
“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”
Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”
You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”
“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”
The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.
The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.
Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.
Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”
“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.
“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.
“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”
Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”
You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.
The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.
“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”
The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.
“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.
Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.
You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.
“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”
He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.
“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.
“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.
Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.
“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”
He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”
Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.
“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”
You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.
“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”
You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.
You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.
Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”
Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.
[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]
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alluringnectar · 8 months ago
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my baby
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pairings; loser!ellie williams x cheerleader! reader
cw; interalized homophobia, angst, tribbing, fingering (r! recieving), fluff, bullying (kinda), making out, slur, petnames like “baby & princess” , not proof read yet!
wc; 17k
life has never been better, you were handed the world at the age of 6. you never had to worry about having no friends, or not having the latest designer bag, and certainly not having everybody wrapped around your finger. you were a cheerleader & from that only, everyone respected you. you dedicated yourself into looks: always on diets, hitting the gyms, getting your nails done, having the most expensive makeup and so much more. you were the most outgoing girl known to mankind, never missing a rager or party. your friend groups were mainly other cheerleaders, and the jocks on the football team. they were assholes, but you didn’t care because so were you.
you never once paid attention in class, especially english. clicking your pen and having your eyes everywhere but the board. you snap out of your daze when your teacher announces that there will be a partner project, and she would assign the groups. you hear your name, and you pray that you get one of your friends but instead you hear the name ellie williams.
“you cannot be fucking serious” you mutter under your breath, looking at ellie whose a row infront of you.
“what was that?” the teacher asked you. “nothing.” you mock her tone, earning a laugh from your classmates.
“alright then everybody get to your partners we don’t have all day!” she claps her hands, urging everyone to switch their seats.
you stay in your seat, motioning ellie to
come where you are. why would you have to move? ellie rolled her eyes, not having the best impression of you either. “look,” ellie says “i wouldn’t have picked you either.” you scoff, “great to know we’re on the same page!” you look at her green eyes, and the way she flutters her eyelash. you were about to say something until you felt a tap on your shoulder.
it was a jock, and you end up talking to him for the rest of the period, not caring to look back at ellie, who was doing all the work. “another prissy bitch.” ellie thinks to herself.
as soon as the bell rings, ellie packs her stuff and leaves as soon as she could. she sees her friends, dina and jesse, and she sighs in relief. “you would not believe who i got paired up with.” dina and jesse both furrow their brows in unison. “a CHEERLEADER! i swear this world is against me, i already know im gonna have to do this project with myself.” dina replies, “yikes , you have it unlucky. i would NOT wanna be you.” jesse laughs and that makes ellie roll her eyes & reply “thanks dina that makes me feel a million times better.” “well jesse and I have to get going, good luck with her!” dina yells while grabbing jesse by the hand and dragging him through the hallways. ellie sighs and puts her back against the locker.
you put your bag down, and flop down on your bed chewing on some protein bars after practice. you grab your laptop and check your grade book. and thats when you see it. you’re gonna fail english class. “shit shit shit!” you tell yourself, pacing around your room in circles. you couldn’t give to shits if you were failing english, but what you did care about is being on academic probation. if you’re put on academic probation, you won’t be able to cheer. you can’t let that happen. so you grabbed your phone, and started texting everyone for ellie’s number. when you finally receive a message with her number, you smile and immediately text her.
“heyyy”
“who is this?”
“your partner in english.”
“why are you texting me?”
“do you wanna come over tomorrow to work on it?”
“is this a joke?”
“ why would i be? i have practice, so is 7:30 good?”
“yeah, ill be there just give me the address.”
it’s the next day and you come from practice drenched in sweat. you go into the shower, making sure its cold so you can relax. as you get out, you put on a robe and some uggs slipper and you hear the bell ring.
you walk over to answer, the fact ellie was supposed to come over completely slipped your mind. you open the door, and you see ellie.
“shit! is it 7:30 already?”
ellie takes full notice you’re in nothing but a robe and she blushes.
“yeah.”
“fuck im so sorry- practice had me exhausted-“
ellie reassures you, telling you it was okay because she found it kinda cute that your hair was wet and your lips were plump.
“here ellie, you can come inside, just stay in my room, i’ll get changed and i’ll be there in a sec.
ellie nods, and sinks down into your bed. she takes a moment to take in everything in your room. she took note of the way your walls were stripped pink and white to the little ballerina jewelry box that looked antique.
you walk into your room handing her some snacks. “do you want some?” “sure.”
ellie says. & now shes starting to think you’re not a total bitch.
this time, you ended up getting no work done but for a different reason. you spent your time gossiping to ellie, about who slept with who, or who did what. you never realized how pretty ellie truly was. her freckles decorated her face like how constellations decorate the sky. you look down into her lips, and ellie stops talking about whatever she was. ellie and you spend a brief moment just gazing into each other’s eyes.
you both get flustered and she breaks the silence by saying “um- do you have a hair tie?” “yeah of course here” and you hand her one.
you look at the time and gasp, it’s almost 11:30. were you guys really talking for that long? “ellie, do you wanna sleep over? or i can walk yo-“ “no, ill sleep over it’s fine.” you nod. grabbing blankets for her, “you can sleep on my bed i’ll sleep on my couch.” ellie scoffs “no fucking way, i’m not taking your bed, i can have the couch.”
and due to both of your guys’ stubbornness, you are laying next to eachother, in the same bed staring at the ceiling. you look over and you see ellie has fallen asleep. she looked so beautiful and her front hair pieces fell on her face, capturing her beautiful. you move your hand to tuck it but then you get this wave of disgust. not to her, but to yourself.
what the fuck am i doing? I can’t like girls. am i stupid? i’m not gonna be seen as some dyke on the cheerleader team. my reputation would be ruined.
you ended up falling asleep teary eyed, scared to accept if these feelings are really true and maybe they’ll go away.
it’s almost summer, and the feelings are still lingering and infact they are stronger than before. after acing the project, you still
continued to hang out with ellie. you and her hung out every friday, and it became a ritual. you were starting to fall in love with her, and you knew there was no way out. everytime your asshole friends said anything about her that was negative, you jumped to defend her name like a knight. “you know the project deadline was months ago, while do you still hangout with her.” slightly irritated you snap, “she isn’t even bad once you get to know her, she’s funny and sweet.”
it wasn’t any different for ellie either, expect she was 100% convinced you were straight. you never once spoke of your sexuality to her, and for any matter guys in general but why would you like her? she grew up playing with worms, while you grew up going on constant vacations. but even though she thought it would never happen, she asked the universe for this one thing. she prayed to a lord she didn’t even believe in, hoping he will for once listen to her.
God works in mysterious ways because you’re sitting in ellie’s room drinking vodka blasting music. it’s odd how vodka can make somebody so honest. ellie was rambling about a story with an ex she had named cat, and drama between the two. she developed a habit of gossiping, probably from you. to make sure you’re still listening, she asks you. “how about you, any boy trouble?” its silent, and you look at her and start sobbing. ellie’s heart drops down to her stomach and instantly grabs you, pulling you close to her. “hey was it something i said? im sorry-“ “no!” you manage to yell out between your broken sobs. “i don’t think i like guys.” “what?” ellie says, shocked from what she heard.
“when i look at you, it’s not the same for any guy. sure i’ve made out with guys, but not even that gives me the same feeling of when im talking to you. i want it to be you so bad, ellie.” you hiccup, tears staining your eyes. “but this is all new for me, and i hate myself for being this way, i had everything anyone could ask for and it feels like im throwing it all away.”
ellie’s mind is going in all directions, the fact you like her. the fact shes finally getting her prayers answered. she pushes it to the side, because what you need is comfort. ellie holds you tight. so tight, you cannot wiggle out of her grasp. “hey baby, it all works out at the end, your existence isn’t a sin, people who truly love you, will accept you for who you are. and you don’t have to figure things out right now, take your time.” ellie replies, hovering her hand over your face to wipe your tears.
you’re looking up at her, inching your face closer to hers. she leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. you’re eager for more, so you grab her hair from behind and sloppily slid your mouth inside. ellie pulls away from the kiss, to get air, saliva connecting you guys to each other.
“hey els?” you say softly, having your knees tucked in.
“yeah?”
“since school is ending, there’s gonna be a rager. do you wanna come?”
ellie smiles at you, accepting your offer.
“i’ll be there.”
it’s the day of the rager, and ellie’s at her house with dina and jesse on her bed. “are you sure you really wannq go?” dina asks. ellie’s throwing her clothes everywhere, looking for an outfit to wear. “yeah,” jesse adds on “she doesn’t look like somebody who would hang out with you, what if this is all a prank?” ellie stops to look at them. “guys, i know you’re concerned but trust me on this, okay?” they nod their heads. “whatever happens, you can always tell us okay? whatever you choose to do , we’re with you.” ellie smiles and pulls them into a group hug. she’s wearing a wife pleaser, red flannel, and some jeans. shes tying her converse, she walks out the door, saying “wish me luck!”
she arrives at the house, and the music is so loud she can hear it from where she’s at. nervously she turns to twist the door knob and instantly she goes looking for you. she’s happy today after what happen yesterday, and she’s thinking to herself nothing can change her mood. until she saw you. you had a red solo cup in your hand. you were with a jock, who made it pretty clear he wanted you. was ellie a joke? was everything you said to her nothing after all? her friends were right. clenched fists, she turns to head out of the party, rushing to her car trying not to cry.
the jock wouldn’t take no for an answer, you’ve made it clear you’re not interested in him. “don’t be like that, i see the way you look at me.” you scrunch up your nose in disgust. “well you must be fucking blind.” and thats when you see in the corner of your eye, ellie. “fuck!” you murmur to yourself. ellie is already going towards the exist. as she’s walking down the steps of the porch. you scream, “wait! it’s not what it looks like, i swear-“
“do you think im a fucking joke? you made me feel like a fool.”
“ellie i swear nothing happened i was-“
“were you telling him your pranked worked? were you laughing about me? it’s done. i hope you had your fun.”
ellie is about to turn your back on you.
“ellie im in love with you!” you yell. loud enough
that people from the outside were looking at what was happening.
ellie looks around, “you’re drunk.”
“yes im drunk but that doesn’t change the fact im in love with you. the man that was talking to me. i was telling him to leave me alone. i only have eyes for you ellie! anybody who knows me has to get to know you first!” you breath starts to hitch, knowing you’re about to cry and how people are listening but you no longer care.
“i use to cry, praying that God took these feelings away. now im praying to God for letting me meet you. God knew I needed you Ellie.”
ellie stands there in disbelief, she doesn’t know what to say but her heart is about to explode. she runs to you, takes your hand and takes sits you in the passenger seat. closing the door, she starts the car and starts driving. she looks over at you, and you’re already staring at her. she places a hand on your thigh, and caresses it. “you’re perfect in every way, ways im not. i couldn’t believe somebody as amazing as you would want me, and im sorry.”
you smile, and place your hand on top of hers, “it’s okay, we were both pretty caught up” you giggle.
she would fight the world to hear that giggle again.
she pulls up to your driveway, and shes about to drive off but you ask her to stay the night. and how could she say no to that pretty face of yours?
it’s all dark, but you hold her hand and she follows you into your room. you play some music on your record player.
“do you like mazzy star els?”
“i dont listen to her much, but her voice is pretty.”
you walk up to her, and hold her by the waist. ellie looks down at you and pressed her lips onto yours. you close your eyes, melting into the kiss. you start getting hungrier for more, and you open your mouth to let her tongue slip into yours. the kisses start getting needier, and she walks you until your laying back on your bed. you straddle her waist, and she puts a hand up your dress causing you to whine.
“you’re okay with this right?”
“of course els, please hurry.”
“please what?”
you look away from her gaze, shyly, you fiddle with the seams of ellies wife pleaser and whisper to her , “please touch me, it can only be you.” and with that, ellie is slipping your dress off. kissing your collarbone all the way down to the welts of your breast. she takes off your matching set of panties and bra. and her cold hands on pinching your nipples make your back arch into her touch. she sucks on your nipples, flicking her tongue on it back and forth earning whimpers from you each and every time.
“n-need you els..” you stutter. “im not going anywhere baby.” she chuckles, her breath on your beast making you close your eyes in pleasure. “im gonna touch you now okay? tell me when to stop.” she slides her fingers between your folds.
“already so wet for me princess” and as she hovers to your face to kiss you, her front pieces of her hair are touching your own face. you’re sloppily making out with her, moaning into her mouth.
then she puts two of her fingers in, feeling you instantly clench around them. you start moaning louder and louder “ellie! ellie faster!” and she listens to you, curling her fingers even faster before hitting you in the g spot. your thighs start shaking. and your grabbing onto ellie’s fore arm, clawing it for any way to feel relief.
your moans reach an all time high and you know you’re almost there. im- im about to cum els!” and she starts sucking on your neck, “let it out for me baby, you deserve it come on.” and you reach your climax, sweating and panting. she takes her fingers out of you and sucks them. “you taste so good, everything about you is so sweet.”
still fucked out, you murmured incoherent sentences. “i wanna feel you against me els, please, please.” and ellie looks at you, grabbing your waist to pull you up. you looked at her in this love dovey expression and her heart skips a beat. “can i take this off?” you ask and she gulps and nods. you take off her flannel. then wife pleaser. then her jeans. leaving her in underwear and her sports bra, which now you’re taking off her underwear.
as for the most part both of you are naked, you place your cunt onto hers. you grind against her lightly. both of you whimpering sweet nothings. “i love you els i love you i love you” as you both of you are sweating, holding onto eachother, kissing as you slide on her and feel both of your holes clenching around nothing. “you’re doing so good f’ me” ellie blabbers. both of you are starting to reach your orgasms as you both moan in a higher octave, clawing at each others back, and feeling yourself twitch.
“i think im gonna cum i think-“ “come with me, be a good girl for me please.” she tells you needly, but you can’t even tease her because you want this just as much, if not more. both of you reach your climax, beads of sweat running down each of your fore heads. you disconnect yourself from her cunt. both of your arousals sticking to each other in a way your bodies seem like they’re made to mold into each other’s.
you collapse onto the back of your bed. ellie crawls to lay on your chest. kissing you over and over again, as a way to praise you. you giggle and run your hands through her hair, massaging her scalp.
“shouldn’t we clean up ellie?” you inquire, and you feel her breath on you again as she says “i wanna stay like this.” you nod and you bring blankets over you guys.
“im in love with you too.” ellie tells you.
“i think you showed me already.” you laughed.
“so are we girlfriends?” ellie asks you, looking up at you.
you kiss ellie, and tell her “if you go to every one of my practices.”
safe to say there was never a practice ellie didn’t go to.
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reignpage · 3 months ago
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Hi! How do you think the jjk men would react to another man/or women idk, flirting with their s/o in front of them?
Gojo: tries to grab attention by being very loud and obnoxious, gets closer to reader and asserts childish dominance, gets pouty like a petulant child if reader makes him behave, but he's overall petty
Geto: silent anger, anger with a smile, simmering just below the surface. If it's another sorcerer, he just inserts himself into the conversation and uses sly, passive aggressive comments to make the other person feel uncomfortable and degraded. but if it's a non-sorcerer, yikes. he has absolutely no patience. He just drags you away, spraying anti-bacterial solutions all over the place
Choso: sad :( why are you spending time with someone else? why aren't you pushing them away? he'll stand there, patient but shuffling, head tilting like he's trying to understand something. Takes a lot of reassurance to get him to forget all about it
Toji: guy either does not care cause he knows the other person aint shit, or if the other person starts to get pushy, he stands to his full height, asserting dominance by flexing his muscles as a reminder that they aren't for show. and then you two have the messiest, dirtiest sex of your life
Nanami: mature ofc, he trusts you, and trusts that he's near enough to get in between should things get physical. he might assert dominance in gentler ways like a hand on the back of your waist, grazing your wedding ring and calling you 'my love', 'darling' etc etc
Sukuna: bruh. instant death. period.
Yuji: doesn't even realise you're being flirted with by someone else, so he's all smiles and jokes but once he does, then he'll be mean, or as mean as Yuji can manage. and if you're uncomfortable? oh yeah, he's squaring up
Megumi: tsk, impatient, moody, brooding, just a blob of dark energy suffocating the air in the room until the other person leaves, and then it disappears once you turn back to him like hmm? what's wrong? and he's act like nothing happened and starts pulling you away to go somewhere quiet, like your room, or for a walk in a park etc
Inumaki: pikachu face, he'll try to grab your attention by doing silly faces or poses behind the other person, and if you're still talking, then he'll inch his jacket zipper down and down...until you eventually roll your eyes and go over to him, and then he's all 'salmon!'
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strawberryyyenthusiast · 5 months ago
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More of my diabetic Steve verse!
Steve, who doesn’t realize that Eddie is super famous and robin who could literally not care any less.
Steve and Eddie exchange numbers and text all of the time. It takes a week for Eddie to crack and send this message:
Eddie: Please for the love of god let me take you on a date I need to wine and dine you so hard I think I might pass out
Steve obviously says yes.
Eddie takes them to a small diner because he doesn’t want to risk being seen by crazy fans who somehow always find out where he is. If Eddie is being honest, he blames twitter.
Eddie gets there to find Steve already sitting at a booth, fiddling with something on his phone. His glasses are sliding down his nose again and he is wearing a Wham! graphic t-shirt and light wash jeans. He stands up once he notices Eddie and flashes a huge grin, which causes Eddie to also smile.
They both sit down on their respective sides of the table and get comfortable, making small talk. It takes a bit, but Eddie notices that Steve has the menu pulled up on his phone and laughs.
“Doing some homework?”
Steve looks confused for a second before glancing down.
“Oh yeah! I always make sure to look at it beforehand whenever I go out to make sure that I have options depending on my blood sugar level.”
“What’s your… number, is that the correct term, now?”
Steve nods enthusiastically. “Yes! And let me check.” Steve pulls out a cute green pouch and takes out a bunch of supplies. “I just changed my CGM—“ At Eddie’s confused look, he says, “My glucose monitor. It’s not completely synced yet so I can’t rely on my pod to tell me what level I’m actually at.”
After he says that, Steve cleans his finger with an alcohol wipe, lets it dry, and then pricks his finger. He squeezes the pad of his ring finger and blood pools to the surface.
“Yikes. I’m gonna have to give myself a correction or two.”
Steve cleans up the space but leaves his pouch out, and then wraps a sparkly bandaid on his finger.
“What’s a correction?”
Eddie feels dumb. He wishes he knew more about diabetes and actually researched it before showing up to the diner with no prior knowledge.
“I just give myself a little extra insulin to make my blood sugar go down. I’m flirting with 250 right now and I really want a burger.”
The date passes swimmingly and the two men find themselves sitting in the same booth at the same diner, but on the same side. Their hands are intertwined and Steve wrapped up half of his meal to take home.
“I made this for you!” Steve says suddenly. He grabs a stack of stapled papers and hands them to Eddie. “I made you a ‘diabetes guide!’ Since I plan on our relationship being permanent, it would give me peace of mind if you knew what to do in case of an emergency.”
Steve begins thumbing through the packet and explaining everything, but Eddie can hardly focus.
Not with Steve clutching his hand or with him wanting their relationship to become “permanent.”
“Hey, are you okay?” Steve waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face. “I understand if this is a dealbreaker or whatever, but I just like you so much and I want to be your boyfriend as of two weeks ago.”
Eddie just blinks. Then he smiles. “We only met a week ago, Stevie.”
Steve blushes, tucks some hair behind his ear. “I know that. I just had a feeling that I would meet the one.”
“Yeah?” A pause. “Can I kiss you?”
Steve releases a breath. Puts his hand on Eddie’s cheek.
“I thought you’d never ask. I hope you don’t mind the taste of hamburger.”
Eddie laughs before lunging forward.
As they head back to Steve’s apartment hand in hand, Eddie tells him about his more than ordinary job. Explains what might happen when people see them together.
Steve just laughs and says, “I’ve fought literal monsters from hell, I can handle anything.”
Eddie falls more in love than he knew possible.
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seokgyuu · 1 year ago
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You might have a thing for Seokmin’s hands. Seokmin, your best friend. Who you definitely do not see as anything else! Really. Not at all! And he obviously doesn’t see you as anything else either. Like, for real! … Right?
Pairing: Seokmin x Fem!Reader
Genre: Best friends to lovers, Smut (MDNI!).
Requested: yes, thanks sweet anon!!
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: Going through my requests right now and this one stuck out because I too love Seokmin’s hands. I mean… look at them!! Thanks for the request lovely anon and sorry that it took literal months for me to finish this (yikes).
tagging: @wongyuseokie, @the-boy-meets-evil, @multi-kpop-fanfics, @onlyseokmins, @dkakapizzaboy, @honeykyeom, @drunk-on-dk, @cheolism, @wooahaeproductions <3 just because i want to, hihi.
Smut Warnings under the cut!
Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), finger sucking, fingering, dirty talk
In your many years on this planet most of these have been spent being best friends with Lee Seokmin. 
At this point you probably knew him better than he knew himself and vice versa. There was nothing the two of you didn’t share, sometimes being mistaken for a couple when in reality all you feel for each other is nothing but platonic admiration. You love each other, but platonically! You sleep in each other's arms most nights, but platonically! Sometimes you wish he would hold you a little tighter and sometimes he wishes he could touch you in places he shouldn’t, but it is all, of course, platonically!
In fact, your relationship is so platonic that you are currently holding your beloved vibrator to your throbbing clit staring at a picture of his hands. His beautiful hands, his long fingers graced by rings you had gifted him because, fuck, did you love seeing him with jewellery you had given him. Especially rings. 
The high you’re craving as much as you feel guilty is nearing and you arch your back, hips chasing the feeling of the vibrations on your bundle of nerves - and when the thought of Seokmin above you with his fingers fucking you open, rings on and all, occupies your mind once more, not leaving any space for a guilty conscience, you finally come undone. You sigh his name over and over, riding out your orgasm and once your vibrator is off and your panties are back in place, you slowly start to realize what you’ve just done. Again. How many times have you told yourself you wouldn’t do this again? How many times have you sworn that Seokmin was your best friend and nothing else? 
Best friends don’t think about the other when they get off. Best friends don’t crave the other’s touch when they aren’t around. Best friends don’t want to get finger-fucked by the other! 
Maybe, you think, you aren’t Seokmin’s best friend after all because all of these points apply to you. With a groan you lock your phone and swing your legs off the bed, still feeling a bit dizzy from your orgasm. Just when you are about to head to the bathroom, you hear knocks on your front door. 
Frowning, you look at the clock hanging on the wall across from you. It’s one o’clock in the morning, who would ever- another knock. More vehemently this time. You blink a few times, not even registering that you’re wearing nothing but one of Seokmin’s shirts and your panties when you open the door. 
Glossy brown eyes look at you, reddened cheeks and lips on the face you think about more than you should. 
“Seokmin?!” 
“You’re- you’re wearing my shirt.”
He is inside your apartment with the door closed behind you in mere seconds. His hands somehow landed on your waist and you are now stuck between him and the cold wall, your eyes big and round looking up at him.
“What are you doing here, what- what’s going on?”
“I kissed someone,” he breathes and you hate that the words make your heart drop, “I kissed this girl when I was at a club with Mingyu and- fuck, I kissed her and I somehow realized that I don’t want to kiss her.”
“Okay, that’s okay, Seok. You stopped kissing her then, right?”
When he shakes his head, you feel another pang of pain inside your chest.
“I kissed her some more, she asked me to go home with her and I was already on my way out, ready to get into the cab and let her take me to her place, but…”
The way he looks at you, the way his fingers dig into your skin. He doesn’t say it, and you don’t want to ask. 
“You’re drunk.” You somehow stumble out, freeing yourself from his grasp and instead walking over to the kitchen, to get your best friend some water.
“I didn’t even drink that much.” You hear the pout before you see it, turning around to face him, your eyes settling on his body leaning against the doorframe. 
“You should still drink some water, Seok, alright?”
He doesn’t try to stop you when you hand him the glass and he even takes two big sips before putting it down.
“Why didn’t you call before you came here?” You ask then, leaning against the kitchen counter. 
“Phone’s dead.” He explains and you sigh, pulling a hand over your face.
“So, you didn’t tell Soonyoung you’re not coming home tonight?”
“I-,” Seokmin starts but then realizes he, in fact, hadn't told his roommate he was going to be gone for the night. 
“Lee Seokmin,” you shake your head at him, “get my phone from my room and text him, I bet he’s dying of worry right now. You know how he is.”
As much as Seokmin wishes it wasn’t true - it is. Soonyoung his (other) best friend and roommate is overbearing as much as he is kind. Pouting once more, he turns around to walk into your bedroom, seeing your phone laying on top of your bed. For a split second he feels guilty - had he woken you up? Gnawing on his bottom lip, he rids himself of his coat and hangs it over your desk chair, also taking off his shoes in the process and putting them next to yours by the closet, before finally grabbing your phone and unlocking it with the code he just so happens to know. 
He stops in his steps. Stares at the screen. Then, he blinks a few times and feels his body react right away. Electricity shoots through him and explanations as of why he is seeing what he’s seeing, explanations that have his stomach flip and his heart triple in speed, that have his imagination go wilder than he’d usually allow himself around you.
“Y/N.”
“Did you not find it?” You call back from the kitchen, getting out a pot to make some late night ramen, only to turn around and look at him and feel your face fall. He is holding your phone up for you to see the screen, his zoomed in hands still on your display. Fuck. 
Coming up with an explanation as of why the fuck his hands are on your screen at almost 2 o’clock in the morning leaves your brain blank. There is only so much you can say that isn’t totally weird - and even then, it still is. 
But something about the way Seokmin is looking at you isn’t even allowing you to open your mouth and stutter out a lame excuse. 
“I want you to be honest with me,” he begins calmly, slowly walking over to you now, “why are my hands zoomed in on your phone screen in the middle of the night, darling?”
The pet name bolts through you and leaves your brain even more blank. Suddenly, you don’t know how to speak, how to think. Yet, Seokmin seems to know that he caught you in something he didn’t even know it was possible to find you in. 
“Y/N, be honest,” he repeats when he is back in front of you, when you’re caged in between him and the kitchen counter, when all that’s between you is the little space he has left, “do you have a thing for my hands?”
Shit. He’s so close now, your phone discarded on the counter next to you and you still don’t remember how to speak. It’s stupid, you know it is, he’s probably just teasing you, just trying to get a reaction out of you before he laughs it off. 
Just that he doesn’t. 
Seokmin doesn’t move, instead he comes closer, one of his insanely pretty hands softly grabbing your chin, turning your head to make you look straight up at him. God, his eyes are sparkling. Everything about him seems to be sparkling. 
“Answer me, love.”
You wish you could, really. But your mouth is dry and your body is burning and all you can focus on is the hand on your face. So, instead of verbally answering you, very slowly, nod. The smug smile that spreads on Seokmin’s face is something no one could have prepared you for. 
“Interesting. Let’s see.” He moves his hand up just slightly, thumb brushing against your lips and you can’t help but drop open your mouth, sucking it right into your wet heat. The moan that escapes him catches both of you by surprise and has you pressing your thighs together. Seokmin doesn’t speak, he just looks at you, letting you suck in his thumb with wide eyes that have his cock twitching wildly in his pants. 
He begins thrusting his thumb into your mouth, saliva building up and beginning to trickle down out of the corners of your lips, his eyes glued on your face. When you begin to swirl your tongue around him, he breathes out a strained sigh, quickly replacing his thumb with is middle and index finger. 
Now it’s you who’s moaning. How many nights had you stayed awake with your fingers inside your cunt, with your vibrator against your clit, with you humping your pillow, imagining exactly this. Sucking on his finger’s as he fucked you senseless with either his other hand or his cock. 
“Fuck, baby, you really do have a thing for my hands,” he mutters, perhaps even more to himself than you and he instructs you to suck on them, his free hand sneaking around you, pressing you against him flat on your ass. 
Nothing has ever been as much of a turn on as this. Seokmin’s fingers in your mouth, his other hand squeezing your ass as he is very obviously rubbing himself against you, his erection visible through his pants and hard to miss against your lower stomach. He doesn’t speak for a while, just enjoying the feeling of having all the power over you, something he had never thought possible, bathing in the knowledge you want him just as much as he wants you. 
When he deems it enough, he pulls his fingers out, thick saliva connecting them to your red lips and he groans at the sight, quickly bringing the fingers down and straight to where you need them the most. He doesn’t wait, doesn’t tease, instead he slips his hand into your folds and feels them, coating the two fingers he just pulled out of your mouth in your juices, reveling in your small noises. 
“Want them inside of you, don’t you, baby girl? Want me to fuck you with them?” 
It’s merely a whisper coming out of his mouth and you whimper, nodding your head yes once more, Seokmin chuckling as he leans forward, his breath hitting your face.
“Need you to use your words, okay?” He says, lips touching your cheek and you swallow hard, hips bucking to meet his fingers.
“I-,” you stutter, “I, f-fuck, Seokmin, please-,”
“Please what, darling?”
“Pl-please p-put them i-inside,” you cry out, your hands gripping the material of his shirt, eyes begging him to do as you asked. 
“God, you’re so desperate, might just make me cum in my pants. Gonna fuck your pretty pussy with my hands while you’re wearing my shirt, fuck,” his voice is breathy against your ear and you’re just about to beg him again, when he finally does what you’ve been dreaming about for years. 
The second he breaches your hole, you already feel like the gates of heaven just opened up for you. His fingers are like the drug you knew you’d get addicted to once you’ve got a taste of them and the second they are fully inside you, you fear nothing will ever come close again. Your body reacts by shaking uncontrollably, your pussy sucking him in as far as possible, Seokmin’s moans in your ear the sweetest sounds you’ve ever heard. As his fingers begin to thrust inside of you, his lips begin to kiss your neck, up to your cheek and finally your lips, both of you sighing in relief when you finally take one step further. Because somehow this is more intimate than his fingers fucking you. 
This could have easily been mistaken as a tipsy Seokmin helping his best friend blowing off steam by finally giving into her desire for him, but the second he kisses you both of you know this is going to be so much more. 
Your arms move to wrap around his neck as you spread your legs further for him, giving him better access and more room to move his hand as he continues his thrusts, your whimpers against his lips skilfully getting caught by his tongue.
“So fucking wet and tight, such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He mumbles against your mouth and you nod, pulling him closer, lips back on his to begin yet another heated kiss. The two of you make out, one of your legs around his waist as he picks up his speed, thumb finding your clit no problem, causing you to arch your back and pant into the kiss.
“Seok- so- so close!” You cry out and he chuckles again, kissing down your neck, sucking harshly on your skin as he pulls his fingers out only to come back with one more. 
Three fingers fuck you open for more, your moans getting louder, fingers digging into his nape as you chase his fingers with your hips, tears behind your eyes threatening to spill because of how fucking turned on you were. You’re dripping down his fingers, down your thighs, your panties shoved to the side by him, probably cutting into his fingers, but he doesn’t seem to care. 
“Yeah? Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Cum on my fingers? How long have you wanted this, hm? How long have you dreamt of my fingers fucking you until you make them drip in your cum?”
His dirty words are so out of character for your usually so bright and sweet best friend, but they do their job perfectly. Accompanying your whines is your pussy clenching around him repeatedly, throbbing against his fingers and Seokmin really thinks he could shoot his load just from this. 
“Faster, pl-please!” Your hips are moving at rapid speed and Seokmin meets your efforts, thumb pressing down on your clit and letting his fingers quickly pump in and out of your perfect pussy, already feeling your nearing climax around him. 
When he kisses you again, his tongue finding yours, circling it skilfully and sucking it into his mouth, you feel your orgasm rush over you, cum soaking his whole hand as he fucks you through it, your moans landing right in his hot mouth. 
“That’s it, darling, cum on my fingers, soak them in your cum, show me how good I made you feel, fuck.” 
Tears are rolling down your cheeks, tears of pleasure and happiness, tears of desperation as you ride out your orgasm, almost crying more when he pulls his fingers out of you to lick them clean like a starved man. Your head spins at the visual and you let yourself fall against the counter, sure you could probably count the stars floating around your head currently.
“Delicious, so pretty and delicious.” Seokmin hums when his fingers are out of his mouth and he smiles at you like the soft puppy you know he is. 
“Seokmin…,” you don’t even know what to say, still in awe and still recovering from the best orgasm you’ve ever had. He shushes you, both of his hands on your waist, pulling you into his chest.
“Later, love. Now, I need you to ride my cock, how does that sound?”
Smiling at him you think that nothing had ever sounded sweeter.
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occamstfs · 2 days ago
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MuskMask Up
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Found footage of the missing persons Eddie Leon and Bowen Chen, last seen vlogging at a new gym with a mandatory mask policy. Well documented is what seems to happen when one forgets theirs.
Mixing it up a bit! Diary entries within a short metanarrative police investigation- Meat of the story is coworkers bulking up at an advanced rate after borrowing masks from the gym, hope you enjoy! -Occam
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The following footage was found by the now missing-in-action Detective Smith during a missing persons investigation of civilians Eduardo “Eddie” Leon and Bowen Chen. If you have any information on the whereabouts of the pair or Detective Smith please call APD with information.
February 1st:
The scene opens with Eddie’s face inches away from a tripod he’s setting up. Behind him, stretching outside the entrance to a gym, is coworker Bowen Chen. Eddie smiles once he sees the camera has begun recording and backs away to start the first vlog on his journey to better health. Hopping up and waving both hands with abandon, he does just that.
“Heyyy guys! Today’s day one of hitting the gym with Bowen! Obviously he knows what he’s doing so this whole thing should be a piece of cake- I mean look at him!” He gestures to his friend mid-drink of water and Bowen quickly chokes it down before shyly responding. Face blushing pink as he’s clearly not nearly as comfortable on camera.
“Ah, uhm- Yes. Hello, audience? I’ve been ah uhm, steady? At the gym for a few years now and Eddie was wondering if I could show him the ropes. Sooo, uhm.” Eduardo was very clear that he was going to be doing a vlog about the whole thing but Bowen had no idea how much a camera would put him on edge. Seeing him flounder and hearing every word come quieter than the last Eddie quickly picks up the slack.
“So yeah! We’re going to a new gym that opened up, all their ads brag about retention rate and quick results which is what I’m all about haha!” Seeing a man in a face mask come through the automatic doors behind him Eddie claps his hands and tacks on, “OH! They also still require face masks which, I don’t mind,” he playfully grasps his friend’s jaw causing blush to return over a shy grin, “it does mean you might be seeing less of this little cutie’s face but so it goes~ When in Brome hee hee!” 
Bowen’s phone goes off as a timer set to ensure the pair stretch for long enough comes to an end. He then chastises Eddie for spending so long of their prep time vlogging before crossing his arms and resetting the clock to make sure his trainee stretches. Eddie quickly turns off the vlog with a wink, “Yikes already on his bad side haha~ See y’all later!”
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February 9th:
“Helloooo guys~ Took my mask off real quick to record this.” He pauses to sniff the air and almost gags as he smells the musk of the gym, usually covered by his mask. “God is this what all gyms smell like?” Looking down at his sweat stained body and glistening chest he grimaces as he guesses he’s certainly not helping. Shaking it off he returns to his vlog, “Hm. I’ll edit that out- Helloooo Guys! You would not believe how much progress I’ve made already!”
He does a small flex and it’s clear he has put on more weight than would be expected, or rather more weight in a week than should be possible. “No one tells you how much you have to eat to put on mass, guys! Or I guess- Bowen told me huh?” He giggles and then jolts upright and turns the camera to his trainer working at a machine. “Speaking of gains there Mr. Mass is himself.” Behind the lens Eddie continues, “I forgot my mask today so the sweetie let me borrow his. Hear that ladies? This hunk’s also a gentleman. Someone get a ring on that finger!”
As Eddie continues to film Bowen’s reps it’s clear that something besides the effort is causing him discomfort. In fact it almost seems like the workout isn’t bothering him at all as he rolls his eyes before bending down to put more weight on the machine. With a free hand he plugs his nose to have the slightest moment of freedom from the musky scent that must be distracting him. Then as soon as he grunts through his first rep at the new weight a figure appears behind him, wearing a mask over the whole of his head and taps on his shoulder before clearly preparing to confront him.
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“Oop, oh shit-” Eddie whispers, too far from his trainer to know what exactly the little confrontation is about, but after a few gestures to his maskless face it’s pretty clear. The sound of Eddie quickly putting his mask back on can be heard behind the camera as across the gym Bowen clearly nods a few times, assumedly acquiescing, motioning to pack up and head back later. He apologies and gestures for Eddie to head to the locker room but then the sweaty masked man waves him off and pats him on the back, pulling out a mask from his sweatpants.
Bowen’s gasp is loud enough to be heard enough on camera as he backs into the machine in shock as the brute holds out a mask retrieved from his sweaty pants. He waves his hands clear as day that he’s not about to put on that must-be stained mask. Eddie quickly gets off his machine and starts to head over check in on his friend. He knows Bowen hates attention and is wont to fold at any confrontation but surely he’s not about to be pressured into putting on that dirty rag.
Keeping the camera trained on Bowen just in case, he’s too focused on the shot to really notice the fear in the man’s eyes as he stares up at the masked figure. And then, with a gulp, Bowen shakily accepts the mask, close enough to read lips one could just about make out Bowen’s whispered apology, “I’m sorry sir it won’t happen again” And then he does the unthinkable and puts on the dirty mask. Eddie reacts quietly enough only for the camera to pick up, “Jesus Christ- Bo!? What are you doing?!” 
After the masked man pats Bowen on the back, harder than one surely should, and offers a rough handshake, he departs. The camera captures a few more frames as Eddie walks the final few feet over. While not covered in sweat, it’s clear that the mask on Bowen’s face is wrinkled and has a small dark patch in its corner. Either from the workout or from the anxious confrontation, the trainer is clearly breathing heavily. 
With each breath his eyes begin to glisten glassy. Staring off into the middle distance he adjusts his pants and seems distracted as each heaving breath strives to be deeper than the one that came before, as each gasp of musky air tries to instill more of the essence trapped within the wretched mask. His eyes almost begin to cross in the last frame before Eddie puts his phone in his pocket, leaving the last few seconds of the recording audio only. “Uhhhhm, Hey Bowen? What the fuck was that?”
There is a few seconds pause followed by the sound of presumably Bowen swallowing saliva before he answers “Oh! Uhhh yeah? I don’t know dude?” “Dude?” “Sorry my head feels like it’s swimming, Eddie? That was so uhh, intense-” The sound of adjusting clothing again comes through, someone pulling on the elastic band of their underwear.
Realizing the whole confrontation only happened because he forgot his own mask, Eddie apologizes, “That wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t take yours. Look we can swap if you-”“NO.” Silence follows once more before Bowen continues, “No I uhm- don’t mind br- Eddie. How about we call it there and head home?” Eduardo agrees and the pair head off to the locker room. After a few steps the recording ends.
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February 15th:
The image begins as usual of Eddie from afar, though the sound of weight’s clanging is far louder than usual. After a few false starts interrupted by the din of falling metal, the vlogger walks a few feet away and begins talking to the camera, “Hey everyone, quick update this time-” Flexing to himself he takes a moment to address his continued growth before in the distance he hears brash, deep laughter and what little of his face is revealed makes his worry clear as day.
“I’m still chugging along but Bowen has, well blown up? Ever since the last vlog when that asshole made him wear a dirty mask it’s almost like he’s a totally different person? Here, look-” Eddie quickly pans the camera over to a man almost unrecognizable resting on a bench. Beyond having arms as large as Bowen’s legs should be, the man’s demeanor is indeed entirely different. He flexes his arm and moans to himself as he sees a central vein pushing against the strained shirt sleeve.
“Is it steroids? Do you think? OH! He’s also started using the masks the gym provides- Are there like, inhale-y steroids?” The vlogger quickly heads to the web to research, paying no mind to what the lens catch as the camera unintentionally witnesses the massive man lumbering up from his bench, leaving an unwiped sweat stain in his wake.
Massive pecs bounce with each step and thighs strain his shorts as he makes his way over to Eddie, “YO! Edster- Come help me stretch!” Eddie flinches as he’s shouted at, groaning uncomfortably he obeys his trainer. Forgetting he was taking a vlog at all he sets his phone down. The air fills with groans, cracking bones, and almost deliberately loud grunts from Bowen.
“You know I seem to remember you wanting to not put on too much weight Bo?” 
There’s a deep guffaw, “Pshyeah, but y’know, when the muscle-bug bites huhuh!” The sound of his sleeves straining from a performative flex covers up his breathy moan from hyperextension. “Woah bro, why do you look so down?”
Clearly not thinking his mood would be caught by a man whose only gear has suddenly become self-obsessed, Eddie stumbles, “Well I don’t know, I guess? I’m just worried about- You just seem a little different is all.
“Huh.” There’s a long silence interrupted only by the buzz of music and clanging weights far off. Then there’s a quick gasp as in one motion Bowen stands and hoists Eddie into the air, “woAH! Bo! Put me down!” 
“Huhuh no bro I get it- You don’t know why you’re not seein’ results as good as mine I totally get it!” Eddie grunts and gags in arms that truly could snap him in half, “Ugh B- you’re so sweaty ple-ugh.” Squirming in the behemoth’s grasp his face is forced into sweaty pecs that promptly stain his mask a dark blue. “God you’re going to get your b.o. All over me dude-” 
There are a few more seconds of complaint before Bowen finally drops his little buddy. Picking up his phone there’s a look of concern or questioning on his face, any number of thoughts soar through his mind, has Bowen always been that tall? Why has he grown so much? What happened to him, is it going to happen to me? And then he takes a deep breath. A sigh in relief or irritation, it’s unclear, but it doesn’t matter. The camera gets a much better glimpse this time as the gym-goer breaths in the oh-so musky, mask filtered air.
Under the mask his mouth squrims into a grimace, but already eyes begin to give way to thoughtless longing. With another breath one twitches while the other falls open wide, wanting nothing more than to mainline the scent directly into his nervous system. Pupils dilate large enough to almost hide his cacao irises before a meaty hand pats him on the back, “Earth to Eddo- Bro? You comin’ to wash up or what huhuh!” Jarred back to sentience, Eddie nods and follows him, the recording ending a few moments after.
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February 22nd:
The camera alights on someone unrecognizable baring his torso for fans he doesn’t yet have, though the glazed look in his eyes is more than enough hint to prove it is the vlogger before he introduces himself. “Yoooo guys! Back at it again with Bowen, how’re we lookin?”
Eddie flexes a thick bicep and smirks under his mask, adjusting it as he laughs. It’s deeper, slower, a far cry from his usual giggle. “oh yeah, I’ve been usin’ the gyms masks just like Bowen said. And I gotta say, I think they’re the real secret of this place, I’ve just been packin’ on muscle since I started borrowing them.”
Standing to his side, Bowen makes himself known, somehow even bulkier than last time. Veins criss cross his forearms and shoulders stretch wide enough that it’s a wonder he was able to even get the suctioned compression shirt om. The thin elastic straps of his mask almost snap as he speaks up, the meek camera-shy man he once was clearly erased from his mind, “I’m saying Ed! Don’t know why you were holdin’ out on trying them after seeing how much I’ve grown!” Bowen crosses his arms and his top is stretched to his limits.
Eddie laughs before his eyes go dull as laughter leaves him with no choice but to take yet another deep breath. Lost in a thought that seems to never come, his words are barely audible enough to be caught by the camera almost mistakable for a moan, it may as well be one. He whispers “need more.” Drawn out like a death knell his vocal chords creak as they lengthen. And then, the camera captures the impossible.
It looks as if it’s edited. Arms go limp as they hang lower, bloat larger, heavier, barely staying in their sockets before his shoulders similarly bulge into thick balls of muscle. Pecs that have existed for less than a month push his sweaty tank top to its limits. The bench on which he rests creaks under his weight as thighs send tears through athletic shorts that were already too tight to wear. 
Behind him, his massive trainer’s eyes widen as he pauses his workout to stare at Eddie’s growth. Hungrily watching as individual strands of muscle flex and surge. Were his own mask not already sweat-stained, the drool frothing from his mouth may be more apparent. Bowen lets his weights clatter to the floor as he staggers close and leans in close to Eddie’s neck, sniffing like a predator, releasing something in between a whimper and grown as his scarred palms clench at his prey-apparent’s biceps, still bulging larger in his hands.
Bowen’s chest, over doubled in size since he began frequenting this gym, produces a rumble low enough to barely register as words. Through his mask he teeths the man’s neck, “Think I got another idea to get some gains Eddie.” This stirs the man from his reveries though does not for minute stop his growth as he bolts to his feet, almost falling forward from the new weight on his chest. Surely he would have had the man about to work him out maintained the iron grip on his arm.
Not another word is heard from the pair as they swiftly retreat to the locker room. The tripod continues filming until Eddie’s phone dies and contains little else of note. Other gym goers wander around the background, all of them masked and many of them stare forward with the same glazed eyes as they sit at various machines, laughing to themselves, breathing heavily, and lifting more with each heaving rep. Just before his phone dies and the recording ends, the man who gave Bowen his mask collects the tripod, through his mask a smile is clear on his face.
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On March fifteenth newly promoted Detective Archie Smith follows up on a lead from coworkers of the missing men that the pair had recently started hitting up the Musclerade Gym. something about vlogging. The detective didn’t care. Miraculously, almost immediately did he find a pair of men who identify as Eduardo and Bowen. The only thing is-both resolutely deny ever having worked in an office building. Beyond that, it barely takes a glance to tell that despite their names and races that they cannot be the men in question. By sheer body weight alone, it’s impossible
Sure Mr. Chen looks healthy enough in his license photo but that massive hunk that stands before him could punch straight through the Detective. With a gulp Archie finds his eyes desperately wanting to trace the powerful muscles, begging for his attention through spandex and strained nylon. He finds his attention drawn to his own crotch as he can’t help but trace the veins on ‘Eduardo’s’ flexing arms to a hairy armpit dripping with sweat. Before he’s lost to his lusts however, he comes to his senses as the acrid musk pouring from both men sears his nose.
With a grunt he shakes off the beyond unprofessional distraction and meets the eyes of both men, neither too pleased to see the officer in their space. He fakes a smile and turns to continue his investigation before being intercepted by a man who seems to be of some authority, pulling him off to the side. Only his eyes are visible which sets Archie on edge. “What seems to be the problem officer?”
He explains his case and the mystery man calls the pair over, their harsh glares soften and Eddie laughs as he’s reminded of his little vlogs. Apparently the pair are trainers at the gym which despite some strange ping at the back of his mind, ignoring something screaming from his gut, when he sees their sculpted forms, smells their noxious odors, he can’t help but believe them. The masked man even offers to give him the recorded film, that is as long as he’s okay adhering to the gym’s guidelines while he waits.
There’s a glint in the eyes of both massive men now standing behind him as they each dislodge wrinkled masks from stained pants that have clearly suffered at least one gym session. Prepared to suffer more discomfort than this to sate his curiosity he throws on one of the hopefully unused masks. It’s at this point that the case goes cold. 
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This recounting of events, along with a copy of Eduardo Leon’s ‘vlogs’ were found sloppily scrawled on some magazines near the shredded uniform of Officer Smith. It doesn’t seem to be his handwriting unless he were racing quite hastily against, well. I haven’t quite the idea what. I suppose it is of some note that they were next to a bloated member of the gym who didn’t have any I.D. on him. His clothes seemed to be from a lost and found as they didn’t fit quite right. We were unable to further investigate his identity, but without a doubt it simply could not be Officer Smith.
The junior officer who retrieved the evidence could scarcely spend five minutes next to the man, and given Smith’s predilections towards order and cleanliness it simply could not be him. Unfortunately the state of the gym put the officer in such unease that he did no further investigation. It’s a shame as when an investigation team was sent the following day it was as if the gym was never there. I am not one for flights of fancy, it is my belief that the whole situation was simply some drug front, perhaps steroids. At any rate should you see, or perhaps smell any of these men. I advise caution. And under no circumstances should you borrow one of their face masks, obviously.
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Included above are to our best knowledge are the most recent sightings of Bowen Chen, Eduardo Leon, and finally a third depicting Eduardo alongside who we believe to be the man of interest found nearby Officer Smith’s uniform. It seems they haven’t stopped growing, that is, if this all isn’t some wild goose chase. Again, if you have information do report to APD. Though please refrain from submitting any, biological material. We have lost enough of the forensics department to this mania as is.
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botchedsundoll · 2 months ago
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requests still open? insomniac anon is back
re fluff hcs with a reader who's on a trip? family, work, any reason; just some temporary absence/reunion scenarios
L. KENNEDY, C. REDFIELD, C. OLIVEIRA X READER (SEPARATE)
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ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; absence/reunion hc’s
ೃ⁀➷ warnings; none!
ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; bought ps plus iusy to play ff7 and ff15 again ermmmmm, this is mostly random bs i thought of on the spot😁, also i always think of re5-re6 chris and og re4 leon when writing these but its up to u😘😘, no proofread yikes
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C. OLIVEIRA
you’d think he was grieving your loss by the way he was acting
doesn’t necessarily let it show too much into his daily life (for exp. work) but you can still notice he’s not as up beat as he usually is
sends you random photos of the things he gets up to whilst your gone, and half the time they’re things that make you regret even leaving him alone - such as something he’d made in the oven all over the floor as he dropped it by accident, captioned with a single ‘oops’
but you get some heartwarming videos here and there amidst all the chaos and random bullshit. like him fixing the piece of jewellery you’d complained about breaking for so long, or something as simple as him trying to learn to cook your favourite dish to welcome you back
sends you photos of him brushing his teeth every morning. send one back.
yet once you’re back? it’s as if nothing ever happened. INSISTS on being the one to pick you up, no ifs or buts
absolute bone crushing hug, spins you around whilst he’s at it before attacking your face with kisses. he’s missed you, okay?
L. KENNEDY
he tries to ignore your absence as much as possible
tries to keep his hands and mind busy at all times, simply to not think about you not being with him
sends a message daily, asking how you are and if everything’s alright. he’d prefer to call you, but he refrains from doing so as he doesn’t want to disturb you in any way ;(
but whenever you call, you best believe he answers literally on the first ring (if he’s not at work, yet even if he is he manages to somehow answer the phone) and has a small smile on his face basically the whole time you’re speaking with him
tends to start taking less care of himself once you’re gone due to him overworking himself to keep his mind off things. it’s a bad habit, he knows, and he’s guaranteed to have a lecture from you once you’re back
but he doesn’t mind like at all - subconsciously does it on purpose so you dote on him once you’re back but you didn’t hear that from me
long ass hug once you’re back, face buried in your neck as he simply takes in the scent of your perfume once more - until you comment on his eyebags and the lecture begins
a small smirk tugged on his face and a ‘what, worry that much ‘bout me?’
C. REDFIELD
workaholic at heart. so he works even more to make up for your absence
calls you twice a day without fail - once in the morning, once at night just to simply hear your voice and ask you about what you’ve been up to
won’t ever admit it, yet going to bed without you now feels strange. sure, he might sleep flat on his back half the time and be out cold most of the time when you’re just getting into bed, but he can’t help but miss the thought and feeling of you throwing your leg over his hips and snuggling against his bicep. he’s a simple man
hates when you leave because your cooking’s gone. there is genuinely nothing this man loves more than a meal home cooked by you, and having that stripped away from him is, to him, worse than having to deal with all the BOWs and shit at work
claire’s always asking him when you’re back for 2 reasons; 1, she genuinely wants to know to see you again and 2, she loves reminding chris of the fact you’re gone and winding him up about it. sibling love
will literally decide himself that he’s picking you up. whether that be the airport or a whole different city, he’s coming for you himself. you get no say in it
you come running at him and throw yourself against his chest, which prompts him to wrap his arms around you with a small grin on his face
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daydreamgoddess14 · 5 days ago
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What's it take to get your number?
What's it take to bring you home?
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Here she is! My first Bucky fic (😬)
From my Valentine's Lovebomb event, this one is for Emily 💜
Bucky Barnes x F!Reader insert, no use of y/n, no applicable warnings - just some cute fluff while I dip my toe into another fandom.
Masterlist
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Of all of the things Yelena had talked you into, this was undoubtedly the worst.
And she had, of course, talked you into some truly awful shit.
If she could see you now, scowling into your margherita, she’d probably throw something at you.
Hey! Smile a little, huh?
As it happens, the thought of it does make you smile.
She's been good to you since you met. Being Valentina's PA was often an utterly thankless existence. The way she'd collected up Yelena, Alexei, John Walker and the others had been admirable.
Adding Bucky Barnes into the mix had been a goddamn coup.
They mostly went about their business as instructed and paid you little to no attention, but Yelena had spotted you still working away late into the night just before Christmas. She'd disappeared and returned twenty minutes later with cartons of Cantonese food which she insisted you shared.
Since then, a tentative friendship had blossomed between you both.
At the bar, there’s plenty of small talk going on in the background. Lots of organising.
The tables have been arranged loosely in a grid with plenty of space between them to move around.
Not that you have to move anywhere.
The instructions have been made very clear.
Yelena read them out with such glee, you suggested that she go instead.
So you sit, and you wait… then they ring a bell and the men come in and also sit down, yes? Hmm… says you have five minutes. Seems not long enough? Then bell goes again and you stay in your seat. The men move around and you have more handsome men to talk to! Fun, right?
Oh yes. Great fun. So much fun.
Next time Yelena suggests speed dating, you’re going to drag her kicking and screaming with you.
You steal a glance at the time, only a few minutes until the shitshow kicks off.
You signal the waiter for another drink, god knows you need it.
A couple of deep, cleansing breaths and the bell goes.
The noise and activity around you does distract you.
You glance around quickly at the couple of people around you, the beautiful women in their barely there dresses, poker straight hair and lashes so long they could be used as a fan.
You’ve made an effort, of course.
A certain blonde pain in your ass made sure of it.
This top, this skirt, these shoes.
She threw them at you.
Girl, the skirt has pockets!
The woman at the table next to you looks completely underwhelmed by her first five minute attendee.
Her eyes wide and her mouth in a fixed line.
The poor guy loosens his tie nervously.
A tie? Yikes.
He seems uncomfortable, clearly aware of the unfavorable impression he's making.
You’re almost transfixed by the car crash about to unfold in front of you.
This has got to be more entertaining than your date, right?
This is the shit you could watch all night long.
A low cough alerts you to your own car crash.
You steel yourself, a fake smile already in place.
“Hey,” he says.
The smile begins to slip.
You know that voice.
Why do you know that voice?
How do you know that voice?
By the time you actually look at him, the smile is long gone.
“Oh fuck.” It could be a whisper. It could be a squeak.
Either way, it’s barely audible so of course he heard it.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he grins, slightly incredulously.
“What are you doing here, Bucky?”
“Same as you, apparently.”
“Did you follow me?”
“Why the hell would I follow you?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Did Yelena put you up to this? I’m going to fucking kill -”
“She didn’t put me up to anything,” he held up his hands in surrender. “And, I’d like to see you try,” he adds disparagingly.
He’s not wrong.
“So, why are you here?”
“Sam thought it would be a good idea. He says I’m too introspective.”
“Nice. He’s such a good friend,” you bite back.
“Right? He’s got enough charm for both of us.”
“So you don’t want to be here either?”
“Does it look like it?” He frowned.
“Fine. So we sit in silence until you can move on.” You tell him sternly, reaching for your drink and taking a long gulp. You signal the waiter again for another.
He scoffed and shook his head.
“I’m not sitting in silence. Sam says I should talk more, so let's talk,” he declares, and you just roll your eyes at his stubbornness.
“What the hell is there to even talk about?” you ask, “you literally have no idea who I am?”
Bucky seems undeterred by your attitude.
“What kind of books do you like?” he asks casually. “What kind of… seriously?” You eye him suspiciously.
“Yeah, you’ve always got your head in a book. You say I don't know who you are but I've seen you. Recommending stuff to Yelena - not to me, though - so what do you like to read?” He leaned forward on the table, making it wobble.
“Anything,” you mutter with a sigh, “everything, really. The classics, fantasy, thrillers, romance.” He nods along as you speak. “What about you?” You ask hesitantly.
“I’ve been reading the classics lately, actually,” he admits.
“Oh sure,” you roll your eyes.
“Hey, it’s true. I just finished Pride and Prejudice.”
“And did you enjoy it?” As you ask your question, the bell rings out.
“Gentlemen, time to move on to the next table please,” the organiser calls out.
“Hold that thought, doll. Guess I’ll see you around?” He stood, waiting patiently for the man in the tie to move along.
The woman at the neighboring table suddenly seems thrilled with her new date. Bucky offers her a smile, and she responds with a giggle.
He takes his seat at the next table, but instead of engaging with his new date, he leans back over to you.
“I loved it. I like the chemistry between Elizabeth and Darcy and the layers of their relationship. It’s probably my favourite romance.”
The woman next to you looks a little put out.
“Your favourite romance? Which others have you read?” You can’t help but ask.
The man directly across from you is growing increasingly annoyed, watching the conversation unfold with a sense of irritation, like he's watching a tense tennis match.
“I liked it more than Jane Eyre, and Wuthering Heights.”
A small, surprised smile curves up the corner of your mouth as Bucky continues to ignore his next date.
“Uhh, excuse me?” she interjected, her voice laced with irritation.
“Sorry ma’am, I’ll just be a minute.” Bucky calmly replies, not breaking eye contact with you.
“I’m not a fan of Wuthering Heights either, I tried to be in my tortured youth.” You admit.
He laughs and it’s… magical.
“Any others you’d recommend?”
“North and South -”
“Gaskell?” He confirms, you nod. He mirrors your nod, a small smirk crossing his face.
“Yeah, another brooding gentleman and headstrong woman.”
“Huh, sounds familiar.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
Meanwhile, your new date grows increasingly impatient, tapping on the table incessantly, while Bucky's date becomes frantic as she attempts to catch the organiser's attention.
The man at your own table finally interjects, addressing Bucky directly.
“Excuse me, buddy, you're supposed to move on after five minutes, you know?”
“Sorry man, just seeing where this goes,” he shrugs before looking back at you. “Got any newer recommendations? Feels like I’m… stuck in the past sometimes,” he grins lopsidedly.
“Romance, or something else?”
“Let’s stick with romance,” he leans in with his elbows on his knees.
“Try Emily Henry,” you tell him as your new drink arrives.
“Excuse me sir, you do need to move on?” The waiter insists as he carefully places your drink down.
Bucky sighs, turning back in his seat to face his actual date.
“Finally, I might be able to grab a quick minute before the bell goes -” your date starts with a smile.
“Emily Henry, huh? Book Lovers author? I saw it but didn’t pick it up,” Bucky leans over again.
“I’ve got a copy, I’ll bring it over.”
“That’s great, thanks.”
“And North and South, too?” You ask.
“I look forward to it.”
“Excuse me!” Your date interjects loudly.
You look down at the table with a blush as Bucky turns away again.
“So, how long have you been single?” You hear your date ask as the bell goes again.
“And move on again please, gentlemen.” The organiser smiles.
Your date does so, following Bucky with an angry frown.
With another table between you, you assume that’s your additional ‘date’ with Bucky over and turn to greet your next date.
Now, from three tables away, Bucky calls down the row to you.
“Hey, doll, there’s a new bookstore opened by Sam’s place. We should check it out?”
You nod to placate him while disgruntled voices around you mutter and curse his interruptions.
The bell rings again and everyone moves on once more.
From five tables away he asks about the recipe for the pasta dish you made for lunch with Yelena last week.
From seven tables away he shouts to ask whether you saw the last episode of Traitors.
“That is enough, sir. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave,” the organiser says with exasperation at the next bell.
“But we're getting along so well,” he protests as two waiters try to lead him to the door.
Giving up, he gives you a half shrug and a wave.
“See ya later, kid.”
He leaves without further disruption.
You turn back to your latest date but your enthusiasm has left the building with Bucky.
Despite the tedious hour that follows, no conversation manages to match the level of engagement you experienced in your initial encounter.
You had been under the distinct impression that he had no idea who you were. Of all of them, Yelena was the only one who made an effort. Alexei occasionally pulled you into conversation, usually when he needed an additional body on his side in an argument, but Bucky walked past your desk almost daily without a word or a glance.
You couldn't help but wonder why he chose tonight, of all evenings, to engage with you.
He could have ignored Sam's suggestion to attend. He could have ignored you completely.
You'd given him an out, offered to sit in silence.
His casual comment to your second date echoed in your mind: “Sorry man, just seeing where this goes.”
Those simple words had hinted at a deeper curiosity or interest, beyond just passing time at a speed dating event.
It had been both impressive and frustrating to see the usually stoic Bucky calling across tables, asking you questions about your job, how long you'd worked for Valentina, with an animated excitement that seemed to be reserved solely for you.
The organiser called time and you wrapped your coat tightly around you, the mid-February nights were cold and you were ready for bed.
You shot Yelena a brief text, letting her know you had arrived home safe and sound, choosing to leave her hanging when it came to details about the event.
After a fitful night, you arrived at the office the following morning, books safely nestled in your bag.
Yelena is parked at your desk, her feet casually propped up as if she'd taken permanent residency.
She raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“So, did you find the love of your life?”
“I'm never doing that again,” you warn with a pointed finger in her direction.
“Really?” A familiar voice behind you asks. “And here I thought you had a good time.”
You turn around to see Bucky standing there, his gaze fixed on you with a cheeky smile.
Yelena can barely contain her excitement, her grin widening even further.
Her feet hit the floor with a thud as she eagerly joins the conversation, eyes darting between the two of you. She turns first to Bucky.
“Wait, you were there?” Her question laced with disbelief.
Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to have attended a speed dating event.
“Yeah, and?” He asked, his indifference only increasing Yelena's excitement.
“You went speed dating?” She asks incredulously. He doesn't look at her as he answers, he looks only at you.
“I went speed dating.” He confirms.
“And all you got were book recommendations?” You add, reaching into your bag to hand him the two books.
“Well I was kinda hoping I got a little more than that,” Bucky smirks, his expression filled with a hint of mischief.
Yelena's eyes widened, her gaze darting back and forth between you and Bucky.
“Wait, what's this? What's with you two?”
“I mean, I did think you were scared of me-” he began.
“You don't scare me,” you cut in firmly.
His smile widened further.
“Good to know.”
Yelena watches the exchange with wide eyes.
“This is so weird,” she mumbles to herself.
“So, you think you'll do it again?" You ask him brazenly.
Bucky grins at your bold question.
“Maybe,” he muses before adding with a twinkle in his eye, “but only if you're there.”
FIN
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pascals-doll · 11 months ago
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GATÚBELA
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ellie williams x reader
『••✎••』 in which you go to a party to forget about your cheating ex, who would’ve thought you’d find yourself falling in love at some reggaeton function. | WC: 9.3K
🫧 THIS IS A SERIES | FOR ALL PARTS GO HERE
🫧 SERIES MASTERLIST | CH.2 HERE
🫧 with all the talk in the fandom of inclusivity and needing a plot, my ass was busy whippin up exactly that! 💋 i hope you babies enjoy genuinely since this is my first series!
🫧 karol g and baby miko is 2846% of my playlist tbh
🫧 description: MODERN AU! FUNCTION BEHAVIOR, SUGGESTIVE CONTENT ONLY! latina!reader, detailed description of reader having tan/tawny brown skin!, bff!dina, mentions of drinking and smoking, mentions of toxic relationship, mentions of reader being cheated on, READER IS NOT IDENTIFIED WITH HER SEXUALITY (SHE HIGHKEY KNOW SHE GAY THO SHE NOT DUMB), mentions twerking/yiking (lol when i said function behavior i meant it)!, cocky masculine!ellie, mention of y/n once (___), use of nick name (mama), kissing!
CHAPTER ONE
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“fuck him girl, what you need is a good drink and a good dance”
your dearest bestfriend Dina says, passing you the ‘Dutch’ you rolled.
the ‘him’ in question was your now ex-boyfriend. you had walked into his home 2 nights ago.
at first, you found him on his bed, he already seemed startled to begin with which was a dead-giveaway already then the girl walking out of his restroom in your towel was enough to have you walking through that front door.
you couldn’t lie and say getting cheated on didn’t hurt. it just didn’t hurt in the way you thought it would. if anything, you had felt an undertone of overwhelming relief even with that pang of pain.
“so are we outside? or are we outside?” your bestfriend asks, actually giving you no option as she is already looking through your closet.
“how could i ever tell you no” you spoke out through the exhalation of your smoke before handing her the blunt.
“girl, we are walking farther than our waiting spot!” your half-way tipsy-self giggles out, grabbing Dina as you both lean on the staircase outside of Dina’s apartment building.
the sounds of heels clacking on the concrete through the shared tipsy giggles you both shared as the both of you begin to feel the shots of Don Julio and Fireball Dina offered as a pregame.
“uber comes in 6” Dina says, before putting her phone away inside her big black fur coat that temporarily covered her matching black two-peice.
it was a corset top that hugged her breasts perfectly with the matching flared leggings that had cut-outs on her thick hips, finishing it off with white heels.
“enough time for a smoke” you smirk out which Dina returned before beginning to dig in your mini white purse.
you were wearing a skin-tight halter white dress sparkled with light gold gems that brought out the natural bronze of your skin, hugging all your curves perfectly, exposing your tattoos that sprinkled around your arms, and your thick gold hoops that had ‘CHULA’ written through.
once you had what was left of the blunt from earlier in between your lips, you began to pull out your light from in your long dark-brown leather coat that was complimeted by your dark brown heeled-boots.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
flashing lights of green, red, and blue fading into each other through each flash as you both make your way through the house-party; music from the loud speakers ringing through the both of your ears.
the body heat from all the dancing sweaty bodies engulfing the blaring atmosphere as you pushed through different to people to find your way to the drink station.
“what can i get you ladies, tonight” the server says, mixer in his hand as he was mid-way of making this woman’s mojito.
Dina, of course using all her little flirtatious tricks to rouse free drinks out of him.
you both walk away with accomplished smiles, your pure lime Daiquiri in hand and cherry Mojito in Dina’s.
Dina was also able to convince the server to take care both of your coats, everything that was in your coats now being in your purse’s. he hung your jackets on these hooks right next to where the kitchen begins and home-bar ends.
“may we get swept off our feet by a hot duo!” Dina cheers out, putting her glass in the air.
“amen sista’!” you clink your glasses together before walking off into the sweaty-crowded dance floor.
♫₊˚.🎧 now playing: gatúbela
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
the loud speaker boomed the slight beats, immediately feeling each of the beats go through your body as you feel yourself get hyped to one of your favorite songs begin to play; knowing the drop is gonna come.
it felt like it was destined as you hit the dance floor. immediately grabbing Dina’s hand where she knew exactly what her dance-crazed friend was gonna do with the little liquor in her system; aka you.
you felt the need to make it to the middle of the dance floor before song actually began.
you heard the lyrics engulfing your ear, the drank being the only thing to influence you and your body right now.
Dina automatically taking your free hand, putting it up in the air as your bodies began to whine together to the beat.
both your hips matching each beat smoothly as y’all began to pull people’s attention from around the room.
“estaba loca por casarte, haćertelo rico yo! ojalá puedà quedarte” you and dina began to sing, your bodies beginning to gyrate swiftly towards each other; completely lost in the atmosphere, liquor, and music.
the upbeat rhythm of the reggaeton beat boomed only making your sexy rhythm on Dina faster.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
Ellie wasn’t much for the party scene, she liked the occasional harmless flirting and eye candy to be as a entertainment for her as she smoked her way through the party, only taking a couple shots with Jesse.
Jesse had a friend, Gustavo. he was going to be dj-ing at some house party tonight and when it came down to Jesse, no was not an option to Ellie.
anyways, thats how Ellie ended up in the humid party, standing where she was now; watching all surf-wave of crowded bodies getting down.
she stood there, joint in her hand as her cropped white muscle-tee hugged her chest and exposed her toned abdomen.
she had on jeans, bagging them so her nike pro boxer-lining to peek out.
there was lots of beautiful women at this party, but she was almost falling asleep as Jesse was already flirting with a second girl.
just as she brought the joint to her lips, there you were.
ellie could only spot your silhouette at first.
your shadow was revealed shortly, glowing under the bright dance-floor lighting.
it seemed like Ellie wasn’t the only one you were able to captivate, almost enchanting the whole room.
it was now, you and Dina who were killing it on that dance floor.
random strangers hyping the both of you as some even attempt to get closer to try to dance with the both of you.
it was everything about you that captured her completely. the way your hair moved along with your golden earrings shining with every movement of your body and your tawny skin glistening.
she observed the way you danced and to be frank the way your dress hugged those beautiful curves of yours.
Ellie was salivating at the mouth, you were like a flash-photo moment that would be forever engraved into her membrane.
Jesse had came back with two shots of tequila, she immediately grabbed her shot. not wasting time, ellie needed to get to that dance floor before the end of this fucking song.
“white dress and black dress. spotlight. white dress is mine.” ellie points out quickly, downing the shot and handing the joint to Jesse.
ellie practically flew down those stairs.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
you continued to gyrate your hips sensually.
Dinas hand’s running up’n’down your body as you did the same, both feeling hot under the spell of the music.
you took a couple steps back as your perreo got more confident, slight cheers from women and men ogling the both of you as they try to get closer.
Esto e' una foto porque yo no 'toy pintá
Ya 'toy elevada, me siento gatúbela
Y ese huerfanito necesita una mamá
🫧
you accidentally felt your ass bump up against someone.
“im so sorry!” you yelled over the music, you felt relief once you seen it was a woman, frankly dreading it to be a male.
she was gorgeous in such a different way; she wasn’t a feminine woman and she looked better than any actual man youve ever seen or been with, especially dressed the way she was.
“go head’ mama” was all the fine woman said, signaling that she wanted you to dance; no. throw it on her.
she grabbed the hand that had been on her shoulder as a small friendly gesture to quickly hold it to spin you around.
you were picky if you danced with someone, but boy, you were about to give this girl a show.
🫧
Ay, qué rico!
Cuando me pone el panty de ladito
¡Ay, qué rico!
Ese besito dámelo abajito
each lyric of each beat of that verse was grind and a twerk from your ass on her crotch as her hips rocked into you; it was definitely the alcohol that made ellie this bold.
she followed your rhythm and one hand set on your waist softly as you balanced yourself with your hands on your knees.
she took the free hand that she used to run through her hair, contemplating how she can handle all that, to bring it down to hold your dress down from riding up.
Ay, bendito!
En cuatro yo te pongo rapidito
Mmm, bendito
No me coma' tan rico, papacito
🫧
‘thank god for Jesse and that tequila shot’
the little voice in ellies head thought before quickly vanishing, the only thing on ellie was how fucking horny you made her because of how unbelievably sexy you were.
the small gesture just made you feel secure, only making you pushed your ass into her completely at this point.
the slight tipped over stance you had was now turned into fully bent over as she was practically dry-fucking your shaking ass in-front of the crowd.
Ellie looked around the crowded room, men looked at with her with envy as some women looked at you with hatred which only fueled her ego completely.
she bit her lip as she felt the cockiest smirk smear across her face as she lifted her leg and began to grinding into your ass in complete dog-like motion.
the little bit of friction between the small of your panty brushing across the hard of her zipper which only made your stomach bubble wantingly.
the room might’ve been filled with people and blaring lights but Ellie swore you were the only person in this entire place.
everyone who surrounding the both of you completely fading into a black abyss. it was only the two of you.
the only thing in the moment right now that mattered was this sun-kissed beauty she was dancing with.
there was no way in hell this was the weed or the alcohol.
she wished she could stay here for the rest of her life, not even the fact that you were dancing on her; but the fact it was just you.
your grinds got slower and slower which seemed to bring ellie back down to earth.
the song was ending but this couldn’t.
you thought you would have to pull yourself off and watch as she walked away from you after getting what she wanted, what you thought she wanted.
the auburn hair woman offered you her hand to walk you away from the crowd after you bent yourself back up.
her demeanor felt as sharp as a knife yet her eyes gleamed so gently at you.
ellie’s heart was pounding, her heartbeat drowning out her own sound of the music.
“my-my name’s Ellie!” the woman leaned in slightly so you could hear her over her own heartbeat mixed with the booming music.
you could see her hazel eyes were hooded although they still managed to shine through, mostly cause of the mixture of weed and alcohol.
you had gone nervous under her gaze, the unfamiliar feeling making you a bit uncomfortable but yet she made you comfortable.
you let a nervous smile creep onto your face “nice to meet you Ellie!, my name is ___”
you hated how you had to shout over the music then getting pushed slightly getting pushed by different people as they surround another couple.
you whipped your head, stepping your feet closer to the circle to be nosy and see who it was.
‘shit! where’s Dina?’ you thought.
Ellie noticed how your attention got pulled away to the new crowd of people, sharing your focus. the dance light once again blares down onto the dancing couple.
“Dina!?”
“Oh my god! Jesse!”
the both of you looked at each other.
Ellie found this slightly funny as she couldn’t believe Jesse did the exact same thing.
you share the laugh she had slightly let out before hyping up your bestfriend as she really got into it.
“im guessing you two are bestfriends?” you lean into her ear to question.
Ellie felt your hot breath graze her ear which caused the invisible blimps of her skin to chill-up.
“yeah, i would ask you the same but i already know.” Ellie slys out, looking down at you with a growing want that glints through her pupils.
“excuse me?” you joked out, you were caught slightly off-gaurd.
“you smoke?!” Ellie practically had to shout over the cheering of Dina and Jesse’s very own yiking session.
you gave her a nod which ellie returned with a lick of her lips and signal to the door from her head.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
there was a lot of people outside that actually had the same idea as you two.
you looked around, stumbling slightly on your feet as you weren’t your most sober.
“could i help you? im guessing you’re a bit drunk” Ellie hands go out to catch you incase you were to loose your balance.
“aren’t you so sweet to the girl who just twerked on you. im s’sorry by the-” you slurr out the slightest bit.
ellie shook her head with a smirk of disbelief written all over her face, turning one arm to you slightly to intertwine with.
you gladly accepted her arm “what?” you question as she began to walk you always from the house party. although you were intoxicated you were never so smitten with someone like this.
“nothing to be sorry about here” ellie said, looking up at you as she pulled out a small black cylinder tube from her pocket.
the way her eyes looked at you as the streelights reflected them made your heart race like a pre-teen with their first crush.
you watched through your own droopy eyes her take the joint from the tube in between her lips “you gotta lighter?” she snaps you out of your daze, you had been staring longer than you thought.
“uh-yes! i actually have a whole other blunt in here?” you reply, questioning yourself at the end as you dig in your purse.
it ignited a laugh from Ellie which for some reason echoed through your ears straight to your heart “here ya’go” you hand her your lighter.
she knew you were different, there was no other woman like you. Ellie couldn’t compare even if she tried.
this drove her even more crazy, remembering how women wished they were you in a matter of seconds.
she frankly found it attractive how you handed her a gold-plated lighter, it was fancy too; being one you had to refill.
you could’ve handed her a regular BIC lighter but you didn’t just cause you didn’t have one. you weren’t simple, she knew that off the bat and it yearned for ellie to know more.
“i really like your lighter….’our lady’ ” Ellie compliments, reading the engraved lettering.
she ran her thumb ran over the small painted Virgencita.
she felt her heart swoon even more. she could feel her mind race along with her heart; dying with anticipation.
the anticipation to completely dive herself into your life, create her own little space right next to you, your life. she already wanted to take you home with her and have breakfast in bed.
she wanted to get with you right now and just call you yours.
your energy invisibly mixing with hers creating an unconscious spiritual tug on each other’s hearts.
“thank you—aye!, gotta be protected even as you smoke.” you pointed at her, looking at her playfully serious.
“is that so? i think you’re gonna need to tell me more.” ellie puffed out with a smirk, handing you the joint.
she could feel you grow nervous under your hazy-self which only made her persuasion flourish.
you felt the piney-terpenes fog your brain quicker and create an inner warmth for the skeleton of your body as you inhale the rough smoke with ease.
you grew hot under her gaze not knowing if it was your body flushing or the mix of drugs for the the night.
“so tell me, did you plot on me?” you bluntly ask, passing the joint.
the weed diminishing whatever of was left of your cautious- veil; feeling yourself fall vulnerable with the stranger.
“i wouldn’t necessarily say plot. i had seen a beautiful woman and i just needed to dance with her.”
ellie’s voice echoed through your ears causing goosebumps on your skin. you were acting like you had never been flirted with before and it was embarrassing.
you straighten yourself up, digging in your purse to get your phone. you weren’t trying to disregard her compliment but you also came to your senses.
but to ellie, it sure felt like you did.
you unlocked your phone.
12:05 AM
it was just past midnight and as nice as this was….
you shook your head trying to recollect in your mind what to say “uhm-im sorry—you’re really nice—err, we should check on our friends.” you stammered across your words, biting your lip as you felt bad.
Ellie agreed as her mind began to race.
are you not gay?
had she been delusional?
did she read this all the wrong way?
she felt like an idiot as she handed you the joint. she felt your hand shiver as your fingertip grazed her knuckles.
you both began to walk off into the party, leaving the both tension-filled.
the both of you pushed through, ellie staying hot on your heels to not loose you within the surf of people.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
it didn’t take you long to find your brunette bestfriend with her large fur coat back on as she seemed enthralled with Jesse at the bar, sat on the stool with her on his lap.
you both approached them and they soon look your direction with big drunk smiles “Ellie! ma’girl of the night!” Jesse drunkily exclaims, taking his hand out in dap-up motion.
ellie didn’t seem so confident and assured this time as she approached him with a slight smile and seemed to put any emphasis into their gesture; you picked up on this.
now it was you that bombarded yourself with questions.
have you made a complete total fool of yourself?
did she think i didn’t like it?
how could you pratically dry fuck the girl and then shut her down like that?
does she think i shut her down?
you didn’t know what to think or what you were even thinking, i mean…did you like her? it was obvious she wasn’t straight and well you….honestly was never quite sure.
you knew you felt like shit now, she had been giving you all her energy.
you were too busy in your head to even listen.
“Ya heard that, girl? that ass got her in-love” Dina teased out, looking in-between you and ellie as her eyebrows wiggle.
you heard ellie scoff as she scratched the back of her neck, she continued to look at her feet.
you grabbed your coat which you knew Dina must have brought back, sliding in through both of your arms before your heels clicked closer to Ellie’s side.
“is that so? i think you’re gonna need to tell me more.”
you felt yourself bubble up confidently, it was your turn to smirk as you spoke.
ellie immediately whipped her head up as you stole her line from earlier.
it was visible Ellie flushed as crimson creeped onto her cheeks “what would you like to drink? it’s only fair since you took me for a sesh.” you offer, your arm interlinking with her mimicking the exact same actions except you were the instigator this time.
now ellie felt like a deer in headlights, caught off guard slightly. she didn’t except you to reciprocate the same confidence.
you both sat on the chairs next to Jesse and Dina.
“what could i get you two?” the bartender ask “i’ll be having a Michelada and hottie right here will have…" you say, making eye contact once you called her a ‘hottie’.
you could see ellie’s tongue poke through her cheek, trying to bite back amusement.
ellie swore you were going to make her heart explode with how fast it had been beating for the past hour.
“water with lime, thank you.” ellie replies, not even looking at the bartender when she said thank you. only you in her peripheral.
you were in utter perfect view for her, she could take in every feature and detail of your body.
the black wing-liner illuminating the natural shine of your gaze as your lips were complimented by a faded brown outline that blended in perfectly each time you smiled.
“so, is it my ass or me you fell in love with?”
“in love a strong word, mama” she quirked back.
that little nickname shot right through your ears straight to your stomach, fluttering it at the recollection.
you giggled and god, ellie didn’t think someone’s laugh could be so infectious.
“they were right though” ellie bit her lip slightly, not really wanting to look up at you as she referes to what Jesse and Dina said earlier.
she didn’t realize you were too in your head to pay attention.
“and what’s that exactly?”
“you really into repeating things, huh?” Ellie jokes out which you playfully roll your eyes too.
“wouldn’t you like to know…” your tone was suggestive as you leaned into her.
you weren’t quite sure what you were doing but it almost all felt natural now like you were meant to be; here, doing this, with her.
ellie thought she was delusional, hearing things and seeing things.
“i don’t dance—not like that, but you—whew…i wasn’t lying outside. im lucky it got to be you” ellie continues to insuinate teasingly, completely dazed under the bright light orange lighting illuminating from the bar-lights.
your makeup was almost cat-like making your eyes almost seem black by the dark eyeliner that tranced along your eyes.
you even had tattoos that speckled across your arms, she knew you had more and oh to explore those….
ellie was able to finally take in your jewelry, you had your very own name-plated gold necklace that dazzled amongst your natural russet-glow.
you were fiddling with one of your gold hoops which she observed as she read CHULA going through the earring.
ellie was shamelessly eye-fucking you, she knew it wasn’t appropriate.
it had only hit midnight and this green-eyed beauty was ready to get her car keys and tuck you into her bed, she could care less about anything let alone anyone as she lost herself in you.
she didn’t even realized but ellie had been unconsciously leaning into you, feeling the warmth of your aroma.
just like that, the drinks were being slid infront of you.
you would say you sipped your michi once you got it, but liquid courage amirite?
“how many women have you used that on, hm?” you play it off, feeling yourself become overwhelmed by the hedonistic feelings she urged from your heart.
it was unfamiliar to you, she was a woman and she’s the first to challenge you.
ellie’s expression furrowed as she raises the glass to her face.
your bold and catty personality intimidated men. you couldn’t remember the last time you grew nervous under male attention.
yet here you were, using your all to keep a cool composure with this woman.
she intimidated you. you didn’t like it, yet it was something you would now yearn for like a new drug.
“my first and i hope my last.”
ellie’s voice was above a meer whisper but you heard her loud and clear as your faces were just inches away from each other.
your tense auras begged to kiss, it seemed destined, almost too natural.
your eyes jumped in between her dulcet green eyes and her plumped lips.
it took everything in ellie not crash her lips onto yours, she didn’t want to scare you off.
it was almost like she knew something was up.
yet, you still inched closer.
you let the energies talk to each other almost, your central-egos almost fighting to accept but it was too insatiable.
your lips connect ever so softly. they fell so perfectly into each other, connecting like two magnets.
ellie could sense your hesitation which confused her but she tried her best to ease you by her kisses being peck-like.
ellie’s lips were so soft, it felt like you were kissing a cloud almost.
it felt like your lips had already been connected for centuries, familarized with the shape and movement.
the perfect sync was created between your kiss, you felt yourself fall into her as all your weary thoughts dwindle away.
you had suddenly forgetten why you were so hesitant.
you forgot why you were embarrassed earlier.
you forgot about the stressful morning you had with handling break-up messages.
hell, you had forgotten about him.
she completely belittled the memory of ever getting cheated on, as if it never happened.
by now, your faces were flushed together lips moving in quick hot-sync; far gone from the small little pecks now.
ellie could taste your lip-gloss.
was that watermelon flavor? oh my god…
you could feel ellie’s lip slightly quiver as she tried to get more access to your mouth, wanting to explore it more with tongue.
you give in easily as her steady warm-breathing through her nostrils were enough to make your body fuzzed up.
you wished to her closer to you, craving more of the bliss she brought you.
it was almost like ellie could sense you, she could feel and see each and every thought you had.
if that was the case, you would’ve scared the poor girl off by now.
she leaned closer into the kiss, her tongue lightly swiping at the bottom of your lip to pick up more of your flavored-gloss.
ellie’s hand rested on your lower knee, her thumb caressing figures onto your skin.
your breathing was staggered as you struggled to continue to kiss her, making yourself almost forceful as you try to continue.
it was almost too easy.
she made you too easy.
something a man could never conquer out of you.
you found yourself having to end up paying at the end of the night due to you leaving your brainless date there.
yet, everything that she oozed of attracted you like a fly to a lightbulb.
then everything stopped, almost like a vinyl abruptly screeching-stop on a record player.
she had pulled away from you, she looked a bit concerned “you okay?” ellie tried looking in your eyes for any sign of discomfort.
you were sure a slight flushed out hue was evident on your face as a mix of embarrassment and heat from the kiss.
jesus, can you get anymore embarrassing
you mentally scolded—you wish you could bitch-slap yourself right now.
you turned your stool back to your drink on the table, not looking at ellie but your glass.
a pool of water ringed around under the glass after you both left your drinks to let the ice-cubes melt in.
you fiddled with your straw as you drank from your glass “ya’ never make a woman breatheless before?” you tried to play coy.
you squinted at her playfully as you sipped “you could have anyone here and you know if.” she bit her lip, sneering out.
you were taken aback at by her gruffness, you didn’t deny the fact as you opened your mouth to respond—
“EVERYONE GO THE FUCK HOME! THE POLICE IS ON THERE WAY! GO THE FUCK HOME, THE CLUB, I DONT CARE! JUST GET THE FUCK OUT MY HOUSE! THANK YOU EVERYBODY HAVE A BLESSED NIGHT!” (random party host dude)
crowds began to scatter as the music abruptly stops, shrieks from some people rang through the building. it was almost a natural instinct grabbing ellie’s hand.
“we took an uber here!” you heard Dina explain as you ran up to her.
“Ellie drove, we’ll drop you off! we need to leave now!” Jesse shouts, pointing to the balcony that was slid wide open by others that ran out.
you stayed close to Dina as she held onto Jesse and you held onto ellie.
༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻
the way the four of you ran together off into ellie’s car.
Ellie driving away while your in the passenger as Dina and Jesse make-out in the back.
you watching the police cars speed past you, unknowing that you were ever at that party.
Ellie’s eyes bounced in between her view and her car mirror; you had folded down to reapply your lip combo not too long ago.
she would steal glances at you, meeting your eyes occasionally.
the way your eyes sparkled as you grew shy that she caught you staring at her drive.
it was all canon, planned by divine timing.
so you could imagine how disheartening it was when ellie arrived to not yours, but Dina’s address.
Jesse and Dina stepped out first, it was almost like they wanted to give you a moment alone.
there was a moment of silence between the two of you as your eyes burned into each other.
you both wanted to soak in this cloud y’all created.
“give me your phone.” you beamed out, glow illuminating through her windscreen from Dina’s apartment lights.
you took one last good look at Ellie.
you took in the way her freckles sprinkled across her face, her pink lips pursed, and her skin glistened through by the light.
ellie gave you a loopy grin which made you giggle.
you began to tap away on her phone, creating your contact.
gatúbela 💋
111-222-33444
you opened her camera, turning the flash on. you straighten your posture before doing a quick wink as the picture snapped.
Ellie’s eyes just gawked into you, a lip tugged between her teeth.
you knew exactly who you were and Ellie couldnt wait to fucking find out.
“you give your number out to just anyone?” ellie teases, playing questionaire like you; earlier in party.
“you’re the first i give my real one too!” you giggled out which caused ellie to laugh along with you.
“im actually very flattered, mama” the nickname seemed too natural now, it was officially reserved for you and ellie didn’t even know.
now it was you biting your lip, stopping from smiling like an idiot at the epithet she referred to you as before.
she smirked as she looked down at the contact, the name of the song that was playing when you both were dancing.
you unlooped your mini-purse from around your arm, digging in it.
“here, so you don’t forget about me”
you put your chocolate lipliner in her cupholder.
just like that, you were exiting her car as Jesse took the passenger seat you were once sat in.
you walked off into the midnight, entering through dark apartment building.
ellie spent the rest of her night replaying every moment of you like her favorite movie.
ellie couldn’t forget you, not after tonight.
she is going to see you again, she would make sure of it.
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pomefioredove · 9 months ago
Note
Just read the whole "Yuu gets sold off by Crowley" stories and OMLLL THEYRE SO GOOD XDDD Any chance you could do more on it like if Niege won or if the parents heard about it and also decided to adopt Yuu and Grim?? Maybe the other staff adopting her too or more on Crewel's adoption please???
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requests for the crewel ending are in high demand I see...
parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending | RSA ending
summary: a crewel ending type of post: short fic, mostly speculation characters: crewel ft. other staff additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, definitely pre-book seven, parents being cringe
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If Crewel were allowed to beat Crowley to death with one of his designer handbags, he would have.
...Unfortunately, with the adoption paperwork fees (...and a need for more designer handbags), he regrettably still needs this job.
And he'd like to keep an eye on you while you're still here, too.
The animosity between Crowley and the rest of the staff is unspoken, shared through passing glances and dry remarks at meetings, and though the matter is "settled", in Crowley's own words, no one seems keen on letting it go anytime soon.
The students who participated in the bidding war are subject to months worth of extra homework, harder exams, and worse studying hours from Crewel himself. To teach them a little responsibility, he says.
You, at least, are exempt from his radical new lesson plan. You have enough on your plate as it is.
After all, as soon as the legal proceedings are through and your identity as an autonomous human being in Twisted Wonderland is secured, the "fun" begins.
Your uniforms are tailored and rightly fit, you're given a proper meal plan, even Ramshackle is decorated with a few of Crewel's personal touches. A throw rug here and there, a fresh coat of paint, anything to cover up the rotting interior and turning it into something worthy of envy.
"...Given that Grim doesn't start shedding everywhere," Crewel had said. "Ugh, pets."
The rest of the staff are just as helpful, citing your recent experience with the bidding war as reason to take it easier on you for a while (or for the rest of the semester, really). Trein gives you less homework, Sam "accidentally" doesn't ring you up a few items...
It starts to feel more like the entirety of the staff has adopted you.
Not that you mind, of course. This is the closest thing you've had to family since... well, since coming here.
There's just the one thing, though.
"I don't know why you waste your time with those untrained pups. Honestly. The idea of their tacky shoes touching the rugs in here..." Crewel sighs. His eyes turn to you. "You know, I hear Vil Schoenheit has been looking for someone to take to his next shoot..."
Ashton chuffs. "Don't be ridiculous, they need someone who's strong enough to take care of them! Kingscholar is a real star once he gets motivated,"
"Please tell me I didn't just hear that," Crewel massages his temples. "And might I add, I'm their father, not you. I give the blessing. You're more like the unwelcome uncle crashing the family barbeque."
Grim nudges you with his elbow, muttering a quick yikes before darting out of the kitchen. You groan in embarrassment. "Guys..."
"I'm just thinking about what's best for them," Ashton says, puffing out his chest. "They're at an age where they're going to start thinking about dating, and we want them to make good choices."
"Guys,"
"Exactly. Schoenheit is a perfect gentleman, a master in my class, and has the style to back him up. Kingscholar can demonstrate occasional intelligence, but he's still another housecat," he shudders. "The shedding..."
A tired voice from the doorway interrupts their tense back-and-forth, much to your relief.
"Goodness, the two of you, at this again?" Trein scoffs, taking a seat at the table. "This conversation is highly inappropriate. You shouldn't be controlling the poor thing's romantic prospects, if they even have them. When the time comes, the choice will be theirs to make."
Crewel huffs, rolling his eyes and leaning against the table. Ashton kicks his feet. And neither utter another word.
"Good," Trein says, then clears his throat. "Ahem. But that's not to say that we can't offer our guidance. That Vanrouge did quite well on the last History of Magic exam..."
You groan.
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teddiesworldd · 11 months ago
Text
muffled moans and whiskey kisses.
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is it morally okay to fuck a customer? (2.4k words)
a\n: thank you for all the love on my first posts! i hope you love this one just as much! also, if it wasn't made clear, ghost is wearing a mask with a cut-out for his mouth. enjoy!
pairing: ghost x female waitress!reader
tags/warnings: nsfw mdni!!, just a regular ol' bathroom hookup with the biggest guy you've ever seen, porn with plot, hickeys, a little choking if you squint
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it was one of those shifts where the hours just dragged on and on. the day felt like it was never going to end as you wiped down another table and laid out the silverware neatly on top of a napkin. your mind wandered off somewhere else, but you snapped back to reality when you saw 4 huge guys walk through the pub doors and stroll over to the bar. one looked a little older than the others with a thick blonde moustache and cream bucket hat. two of them were a little shorter, a scruffy mohawk on one and the other with tanned skin covered by a blue jacket. however, it was the fella trailing behind them who made your hairs stand on end. he was absolutely giant. he was wearing a tight black t-shirt that showed off the thick, red scars which ran down his massive arms. and just to add to it, his whole face, except for his eyes and mouth, was covered by a worn-out skull mask. you realised you were staring when his dark eyes met yours and you shifted your glance back down to the table you were tending to. you could feel his eyes burning onto you as he walked past.
it was only when all 4 men were seated that you realised your colleague was still out the back and you'd have to go over and make their drinks for them yourself.
no biggie.
you make drinks for people all the time.
you desperately tried to calm your own nerves as you walked over to the bar, suddenly aware of how tight your clothes felt. the sweat on your palms. the loose hairs that had fallen from your ponytail and were now tickling your neck.
not people like this.
you were a confident person most of the time, but this skull-face guy was intimidating as hell. and the way he looked at you like a piece of meat earlier, like he wanted to eat you up. yikes. you pushed the little door open and walked behind the bar, smoothing down your waitressing apron and putting on your best customer-service smile.
"what can i get for you?"
the first three were relatively nice. the older chap was quite charming, really, making polite small talk and asking about your day. the guy with the mohawk tried cracking a few jokes which made you cringe a little but it was sweet regardless. and you noticed the military badge on the blue jacket of the third man, which made a lot of sense as the bar was right next to the military base. you had soldiers and the likes come in often, trying to drink away the stress of their day. but these guys were different. high-ranking, probably. after you had served the three, you moved down towards the fourth and asked the same question. it was only now that you realised how dark his eyes actually were. they were like dark pools of chocolate. like an empty street at night. and his pretty blonde lashes were like the stars. how could someone so big and scarred be pretty? you wondered.
"a whiskey, please."
his voice was so deep, and he had a bit of a manchester twang to his words. something about him, though frightening, was sort of attractive. the way the corners of his mouth turned up when he spoke to you. the way his huge hands rested on the bar, twiddling and fidgeting with his thick fingers and rings like he was nervous. the way he looked at you said otherwise. you wondered what those hands would feel like on you. in you. he didn't break eye contact with you the whole time he ordered, licking his lips with a sparkle in his eye. you poured the drink, then turned back to him and placed it in front of him. he thanked you and sipped it slowly.
the men stayed for a while, chatting about their recent missions and such, laughing and ordering more drinks. but the masked guy kept looking at you, sometimes at your face, sometimes at where your flesh spilled out over the buttons of your white shirt. he wasn't exactly trying to hide it either, the perv. you couldn't help but look at him too, shamelessly. he even caught you a few times looking at the way his muscles moved as he brought the glass up to his lips.
when he excused himself and walked over to the bathrooms, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, the tension between the two of you was almost suffocating. however, this was the complete opposite of a break from him.
he stood in front of the door like, well, like a ghost. his finger beckoning you to follow him. you questioned your life up to this point and scanned around the pub, it was pretty late on a weekday so it was completely empty except for the group at the bar. you put down the glass you were polishing, took off your apron and excused yourself to the three men who remained in front of you. luckily, none of them payed much attention, going straight back to their conversation.
you know what he wanted from you, of course, it wasn't like he was bringing you into the bathroom for a conversation. but still, a part of you just couldn't believe what was about to happen. he was probably a whole foot taller than you, and twice as wide.
he must be absolutely packing. he'd probably spilt me open.
you tried not to think about it.
you pushed the door quietly, your manicured nails tapping gently when they made contact. you barely even pushed the thing open before he was pulling you by the wrist into the nearest cubical, and locking the door behind him. he didn't say a word. he just pressed his lips to yours. the kiss got heated pretty quickly. you could taste the whiskey on his tongue. the way your mouths fitted together - it was like you were made for each other. it felt so perfect. so addictive.
he pulled away and moved his head into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking and leaving dark red marks across your collarbone. you couldn't help the moan that left your lips, earning a quiet "shhhh, lovie" between kisses. his voice was gorgeous. he soon reached your cleavage, planting bites and kisses all over. there was something so refreshing about him. most guys you'd been with didn't care about any of this stuff, they just wanted to be done as quickly as possible. not him, he took his time marking you, like you were something rare and precious. like you were something special. he moved his hand up to undo the buttons of your shirt, looking up at you with lust filled eyes.
"do you want this? hm? do you want me?" he growled.
you couldn't believe he was teasing you already. of course you did. "mhmm" you nodded frantically, trying to speed him up by undoing your buttons yourself, but he stopped you at the first one.
"ah ah, no. be patient, doll. tell me. tell me you want me." he asked nicely this time, waiting for your response.
"please," you whined out, a little more desperately as you intended, trying to retain a little bit of your dignity. you were still fully clothed, you didn't want to seem too needy. yet.
after hearing your response, he placed another kiss to your chest and started undoing the buttons. so slowly. it was like torture. you placed you small hand onto the back of his head, guiding him down, which he must of liked because it made him look up at you with the most devilish glint in his eye. oh, this man was about to ruin you. he hooked his fingers into the waist of your skirt, pulling it all the way off and stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans. what a gentleman, he didn't want your clothes getting all dirty on the floor of the men's bathroom. gross. after spending a second admiring your pretty lace panties and matching bra, he asked you, "you always wear underwear like this, love? what a little slut you are." something about the way he spoke to you made you absolutely wet. he looked gorgeous at this angle, knelt down in front of you, shoulders broad, inches away from your heat. part of you wanted to just pull his face into you, but he was definitely much stronger than you, so unfortunately you'd just have to wait it out.
he kissed the inside of your thighs, then over your clothed clit, making you beg for him again. then he pulled your underwear to the side, finally pressing his mouth to your soaked pussy. he felt amazing. he must be pretty experienced because he knew exactly how, when and where to make you whine and pant at every movement. the way his tongue swirled in little circles around your clit made your head spin. and the way he looked at you, never breaking eye contact, he was intoxicating. you knew if you made too much noise then his friends would definitely hear you - the walls were pretty thin. but it was so hard when he was sending you towards the edge so quickly. and when he pushed two of his thick fingers inside of you, you had to cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet. he curled it just right to hit the perfect spot inside you over and over. just his hand was stretching you out, and hitting spots that had never been hit by your own fingers. you knew you weren't going to last much longer at the brutal pace he was moving inside of you. you hooked your leg over his huge shoulder, and when he started sucking you could feel the knot in your stomach twisting. he knew this too and when you clenched around his fingers he pulled away, leaving you a panting, sweaty mess and depriving you of your orgasm.
"don't worry, doll. i'm not done with you yet," he said, standing up and turning you around so your chest was against the wall with your back to him. "want you to come on my cock, not on my fingers."
you could hear him undoing his belt and his cargo pants dropping to the floor behind you. he grabbed your hips and pulled your ass back towards him, lining you up nicely. you just knew it was going to be the biggest you'd ever taken. his tip prodded at your entrance, and he pushed slowly into you. he was huge. you hissed as he pushed inside, and he immediately stopped, checking if you're okay before carrying on, splitting you open. once you had adjusted, he started moving at a more regular pace, fucking you deep and slow. your tight pussy gripping his dick like a vice. he managed to find that spongey spot inside of you pretty quickly, hitting it over and over and causing you to let out a pornographic moan. he brought his hand over your mouth in response, muffling your slutty noises.
"is that good, lovie? yeah? you like it when i fuck you like that?" he groaned into your ear, bending over to kiss your neck and bare shoulder.
your eyes rolled back in response, bouncing back into him, which he didn't appreciate very much. with a deep grunt, the hand that remained on your hip tightened its grip, keeping you in place as he pounded into you. your head fell back into his chest in pure ecstasy, the pleasure being almost overwhelming. you could feel like knot building inside you again, getting close to your orgasm once more. his hand moved from his hip down between your legs, rubbing your clit just right, causing you to shriek into his hand. your legs began to shake as you were hurtling towards your climax. when you finally came, he had to move his hand from your clit to under your waist, holding you upright as your orgasm rocked through you. you cried out into his palm, tears forming in the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.
when you finally fell back down to earth, he brought you to your knees and pushed his huge cock into your mouth to chase his own orgasm. it was the first time you'd managed to get a proper look at it. it was the perfect shade of baby pink, your own juices gleaming on his tip. a thick vein ran down the shaft all the way to his firm, full balls. he had a decent amount of blonde hair that trailed upwards towards his bellybutton and disappeared under his t-shirt. you happily took him into you mouth, taking him as far as you could and stroking the rest with your hand. his hand found its way around your neck and squeezed gently, feeling so small in his massive hand. you looked up at him and noticed how he was biting his lip, trying to keep himself quiet. the way his eyes rolled back when you chocked on the sheer size of his dick was so hot that it almost made you want to turn back around and ask for round two. but before you knew it, he was holding your ponytail in his fist and thick ropes of cum were filling your cheeks and running down your throat. his grip on your neck and hair tightened as he let out a grunt, which was loud enough for the boys at the bar to hear for sure, but you didn't care anymore. this man was truly something else.
he helped you get up, dressed and clean afterwards, returning your skirt and carefully wiping your mouth with his thumb. he smiled at you as he did this, telling you how pretty you were and how he just had to fuck you. you went back into the pub one after the other, as to not raise suspicion. but your makeup was all ruined and he had sort of a pornstar sweat-glow to him, so it was pretty obvious regardless. he finished the last mouthful of his whiskey and left with his boys.
it was only when you'd cleaned up their glasses and locked up the pub that you realised you didn't ask for his number. or even his name, for god's sake.
but you were sure that this wouldn't be the last time that giant of a man would stumble in for a drink on a wednesday afternoon.
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