#the band is called thrown

[dice-of-rolling]

I'm seeing the band Im obsessed with in a Bowling Alley tomorrow. I feel like I'm in high school again.

[aeolianblues]

The duality of life is so crazy. I was back on campus today, I’ve been feeling pretty ancient all week because it’s been frosh week which means I have to deal with the fact that this year’s class graduates in 2028 (that’s not a real year) and were born in 2006 and 07, years that I can remember writing in the margins of a school notebook.

I'm walking around campus for the beginning-of-year campus clubs fair, and it's all, people love me, people think I'm cool, people are coming up to me saying they like my fit, in the meanwhile I'm internally getting jumpscared thinking wait; these incredibly well-dressed kids are approaching me whilst I'm shovelling fucking peanuts into my mouth out of a bag in my tote bag

There comes a point when you officially get Older and become invisible to cool young tiny things, and then you can do whatever you want because they sort of stop noticing you. I've been feeling a bit old this week, I'm at Big Person work, everyone around me is like half a decade younger, we're at quite different stages in our lives, I've been thinking. But I also have the sort of face that would pass me for a 19 y/o clearly, because these kids all have pulled me in like I'm some sort of counter culture bohemian trendsetting cool kid, and whatever the hell that means, it's definitely instantly made me feel a lot younger and connected with 'the youth'

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Bisexual Best Friend

Male Yandere x Fem Reader He just wants what's best for you. If he has to tell a few white lies now and again, then so be it.

When you first saw him, he had his tongue down your boyfriend's throat.

It sure as hell would not have been the start of a friendship, except...

He was the one who ran after you when you stormed out of the club, mascara and eyeshadow running in silvery streaks down your cheeks.

He was the one who hugged you and apologised and said your boyfriend was a piece of shit for doing that to you.

He was the one who got you home safe, cleaned off your makeup and left aspirin on your bedside table.

In your half haze of alcohol and tears, you clung to him and nuzzled into his neck and told him you were so grateful, that he was such a nice guy.

It wouldn't have been the start to a friendship and maybe it shouldn't have been. But you called him the next morning.

You apologised for being such a mess, stuttering just a little at the deep gruffness of his morning voice. He laughed and told you not to worry about, that you should've seen what a fool he made of himself when his boyfriend cheated.

You weren't sure how, but a phone call turned into lunch together. Both of you just a little tipsy from bottomless mimosas, his arm tossed across the back of your chair as he sketched out the horror of his last situationship.

"So you're gay?"

You should have noticed it then - the way he narrowed his eyes just a little, the way he let his fingers graze your bare shoulder, the way he seemed to take just a second too long to answer.

"Yeah. I'm into guys."

That was the first lie he told you. Not entirely untrue. He was into guys.

He was just into girls too. And he was especially into you.

He could have been honest with you, he could have told the truth. But you were still reeling from your boyfriend's betrayal, too guarded and hurt to let another man into you life.

And he so desperately wanted to be a part of your life.

The next time you asked him to hang out, you were so at ease. You hugged him when you saw him, your tits squished against his chest. You held his hand and dragged him along behind you. You fell asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He smoothed your hair away from your face and any idea of telling the truth crumbled.

He told himself he just wanted to be your friend. Lord knows you needed one after such a nasty break up. But anyone who looked at you together could tell friendship was the last thing on his mind.

He took you to watch his favourite band performing live and hoisted you up on his shoulder for the encore, his hands inching further and further up your thighs.

He took you to his favourite club and bought you drink after drink until you danced with him, your arms thrown back around his neck and your ass grinding into his crotch. It was only the pulsing neon lights that kept you from seeing his hard on.

He invited you over for a movie night and pretended to lose the AC remote, just so he could share a blanket with you and keep his arm around your waist.

And the longer it went on, the worse it got. You were cute and clever and funny. You could yap together for hours about fashion and music and video games. You brought him little presents every time you came over - small packets of his favourite sweets, a new flavour of ice cream, his go-to Starbucks order.

Could you blame him for wanting you?

He started calling you his wifey, even in front of his friends. Would crack jokes about getting married if either of you couldn't find a guy by next year. And you went along with it. Ran your hands up his chest and fluttered your eyelashes at him and called him your strong, handsome fiancé - oblivious to the way it made his heart race.

When he walked in on you changing, he kept his face deadpan and told you red was definitely not your colour, even as you scrambled to cover up and spluttered at him to get out.

"Why? You aren't exactly my type babe."

Another lie. Not even remotely true this time.

And soon you got used to him walking in on you. Started asking him for fashion advice while you were in just your underwear and heels. Started asking him to tie your bikini tops and unzip your dresses. You didn't notice him always slipping away afterwards, one hand shoved deep in his pocket. You didn't notice the way his hair was always slightly messed up when he got back, his cheeks just a little flushed.

And if there were ever any warning bells - any subconscious instincts that told you he touched you too much, hugged you for too long - they were drowned out by his parade of boyfriends and flings. Why would he be into you when he could be dating a ripped surfer or hooking up with his personal trainer?

You never realised you were the reason his relationships were always so short lived. He couldn't fall for any of them the way he fell for you. They were all just quick fucks to get the frustration out of his system.

He could have continued just like that - fucking a new guy every weekend and getting brunch with you right after.

But then you went and met someone.

He froze when you told him, his smile a rictus, hand clenched so tight around his wine glass that he was lucky it didn't shatter.

He gritted his teeth and managed to choke out a congratulations. You beamed at him, flushed pretty with young love. You squeezed his hand and said it was only a matter of time before he found his love too.

He had to excuse himself after that. Had to splash cold water on his face and fight down the urge to scream. God, why was he so fucking stupid? He should have made a move on you ages ago, back when you first met. If you rejected him then, at least it wouldn't hurt as bad as it did now.

He somehow managed to make his way back to the table and smile at you like you hadn't just clawed his insides to shreds.

"So when can I meet the lucky guy?"

When you got up to wash your hands he slipped your phone out of your bag. He scrolled through your gallery, over analysing every pic of your new boyfriend. Cute, but you could do so much better. And he wasn't even that much taller than you. God, are you really gonna date this loser?

You kissed him on his cheek when he left and he spent the entire walk home rubbing the spot and thinking up ways to get rid of this new... disruption.

Later that afternoon you called him up and asked if he'd like to come to a bar with you and meet your new man. And just like that, the wild ideas in his head clicked into place.

"Sure wifey, I'd love to come."

He showed up late and spilled a drink down your dress before you even finished saying hello. And while you rushed off to try and get red wine out of satin, he scanned the bar for your new boyfriend.

And when he finally found the bastard, he turned on all his pretty boy charm. Bought him a drink and slung an arm across the back of his chair and pretended not to hear when he said he had a girlfriend. Managed to get the guy flushed and stuttering even after he claimed to not be into men.

When he pulled your boyfriend into a kiss, the fucker had the nerve to actually kiss him back.

He was careful with his timing - going in for a second kiss as soon as he saw the flash of your dress through the crowd.

He pulled away just as you reached the table and looked up at you with oblivious innocence.

"What's wrong baby? Why do you look so shocked?"

Your boyfriend shoved him off and stood up to grab you, to claim he didn't kiss someone else, the guy just came onto him swear to God. But the damage was already done.

Who would you believe was at fault? Your best friend who didn't even know what your new boyfriend looked like? Or the asshole kissing someone else while you were gone?

You threw your drink in your boyfriend's face and called him a filthy liar. When you grabbed your best friend's arm and dragged him away, he struggled to hide his smile.

He took you back to his apartment and popped open a bottle. Poured you a drink and kissed your forehead and let his hand settle on your lower back.

"Men ain't shit baby. We're all just manipulative assholes deep down."

He let you drown your sorrows in the bottle and then pulled you onto his lap when you were too drunk to object.

"I'm the only man you need in your life, yeah?"

You sniffled, too drunk and hurt and dizzy to notice his hands moving to your bare thighs.

"Yeah."

"C'mon, say it. Say I'm the only man you need."

"You're the only man I need."

His fingers slipped under the hem of your dress and he pressed his lips against your skin, teeth oh so close to your jugular.

"And I'll take care of you. So just sit still and I'll make it all better."

[cursingtoji]

cw: band au, rockstar!geto x groupie!gf, slight manipulation?, car sex, oral. a/n: geto deserves a loser gf too. gojo version nanami version toji version

geto who has a rock band and though they’re quite small they already have a #1 fan: you.

the band is all you talk about, going to the point of making your own shirts and posters, you doodle the bands logo everywhere and, most importantly you don't miss a single concert.

by the end of it you're waiting next to the back door of the pub when the band comes out, as soon as you see suguru you call his name extending your little gift bag.

"woah for me? thanks, doll." he takes your chin and gives your glossy lips a peck that makes your heartbeat spike up and your face warm up. geto fucking suguru just kissed you!

during all that week you were on cloud nine, so distracted and giggly.

of course geto notices you, always in the front row and ready to give the band some gifts, he sees how you try to dress up as one of them before they even realize they have a visual identity.

geto likes having fangirls, if anything that’s the best sign that the band is doing well. till that point he never considered engaging to one in a more intimate level. after all, women were never a problem for him, fans or not.

the problem is when they think more of the relationship than it really is. geto has always made sure they knew that sleeping together and treating them well was not synonymous to committed relationship.

because he already is committed. to his music. so after spending the whole day trying to come up with a new song so the band may finally have a complete album to present to a record, he takes a frustrated break picking up his phone and to his dismay only finding a long message about how he hurt someone’s feelings.

“oh for fucks sake” he lets his phone fall on the couch and take his keys, this is not a good week to quit smoking.

“geto?” he hears a small voice calling him after he leaves the convenience store with a very much needed cigarette on his lips and nicotine in his system.

“oh hey” he recognizes you by name and face.

“you’re using the lighter” you point out enthusiastically, that was a limited edition you bought and gifted him.

“that’s right, you bought me this, did i say thank you?” he’s genuinely wondering, your face heats remembering the kiss.

“i-its no big deal” you brush it off, since he doesn’t seem to be in a rush you start to babble about one specific song and everything you loved about it, knowing he was the composer.

“do wanna go to my place?” he says after quietly listening to your passionate thoughts. you think steam is about to come out of your ears at how hot your face got.

geto throws away what’s left of his cigarette and takes your hand, not really waiting for a response since the heart in your eyes is pretty obvious.

“you’re so cute” he says with his face mushed into your breasts as he guides your movements on his lap. you never guessed when you came out this morning you would be riding your favorite guitarist’s dick a few hours later, if you knew you probably would’ve put a sexier lingerie. not that he would care, by the way he pushed your bottoms down all at once he probably didn’t even know what color your underwear was.

geto pulled your hair tilting your head to meet his mouth, he devoured you so intensely, so overwhelming… you came not even needing your clit to be touched, just by having him inside you and breathing into your mouth like that was enough.

for suguru it was all a power trip, when he saw you after a concert he knew it wouldn’t take you much sweet talking to get you in his car.

he quickly mumbled an excuse to meet the band at the bar later and in just a few minutes he had you bobbing your head down his cock, “just like that, gorgeous, so good” his head is thrown back as he moans softly.

and as the band grew more popular and they had to travel to other cities to perform he would always count on you to meet him at his hotel room.

“geto~” you mewl his name as he eats your pussy from behind so lewdly.

from the very first time you knew it was over for every other guy the moment he touched you. no matter what anyone said about geto, that he was using you, he would never marry you, you didn’t care. you would be his devotee as long as he wanted.

and geto got all he wanted, a pretty little thing that didn’t complain or asked too many questions and best of all: that loved his music and understood his work.

“i know, you have to practice” you kiss him one last time before gathering your clothing from the floor, the hints of him not wanting to stay over were all memorized at this point, so you turn your back at him and make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

but the usual sound of the door opening and closing never came, instead you saw him coming from behind to lace strong arms around your waist, “well maybe just tonight” he smells your hair and through the mirror he sees the tattoo bellow your belly button, just above the hem of your underwear. your prof of love: the logo of the band.

geto touches it and you giggle at the feathery feeling, like a tickle, he likes that sound. he likes you.

“i was thinking you should get another, right here” a finger caress your right ass cheek.

“the same one?” you ask confused.

“no, silly, something else” he gets down hands caressing your hips and kissing the extension of your butt, “my name.��

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Beyond the Grave

Danny Fenton gets the surprise of his life when the Justice League accepts a mission in Amity Park.

No, they were there for ghost issues. lt turns out that if people aren't exposed to shock waves of Ectoplasm radiation, they don't get fun side effects like seeing the dead. That's why the town people had called his parents loons up until the portal was open.

There hadn't been enough death energy to make them visible, let alone corporeal enough to touch the human world. Even Danny had thought his parents were chasing an unrealistic dream until that fateful day when Sam convinced him to walk through the portal.

What the Justice League was there to do was stop this company that had been kidnapping meta children all over the country. They had hidden them a little outside Amity Park, where people rarely drove by. Danny had only gone through those back roads twice, and he's lived in Amity Park all his life.

No one had the slightest idea that a secret lab was operating underground, forcing experimentation on children. Danny felt horrible he had missed this, as the self-proclaimed hero of the area, but his expertise was in ghosts. They were pretty straightforward and loud in their evil plots.

Something like this required resources, training, and detective skills that Danny didn't have. What made him feel a little bit better about all this was that Danny had found the children before the Justice League.

He just won't tell them that because it made his own kidnapping rather embarrassing. Somehow, the scientists- if that can even be called that- had detected Danny's hidden powers. While he was busy crawling out of a dumpster- Dash had thrown him in there- a van had pulled up and thrown a collar onto his neck.

Danny was so stunned by the action that he could not stop a taser to the neck in time. His entire body had cramped up, but not before he had sent a burst of energy to the broken security camera, tuning it on and broadcasting the video to Tucker's laptop.

He got a bit better at controlling technology using ectoplasm, especially after the many fights with Technus, and his friend had set up a laptop in a close circuit that could tap into Danny's frequency.

The kidnappers probably thought that they were in the clear when making grabs at meta children since most came from areas that didn't have surveillance. Tucker had gotten home to a three-hour-long video from Danny, clicking it open and spitting out the ramen he was eating when the first few minutes of it was Danny getting educated.

He panicked and called Jazz to ask if his friend had gotten home. When she denied seeing her brother, Tucker contacted Sam and informed her what was happening.

The pair had immediately mobilized, tearing through the city on the hunt for the van. Jazz had joined them after letting her parents know Danny was missing. They had gone straight to the police station to report that their son was gone.

Tucker had sent them the video, claiming it was from a Panic App. The pair had been in the beta stages, which was why no one had such a helpful app, but it was enough for the Fentons to make their case. The police had placed an Amber Alert and had practically locked down the city.

In a small town like Amity Park, getting the people to band together to help each other was relatively easy. Even Flash, the last person to have seen Danny, had called his football friends to get in a car and help them find the youngest Fenton.

Sadly, by then, the scientists had taken Danny well out of the city, even with multiple people calling to place tips on the black van. Four days passed, and with each passing hour, the likelihood of Danny returning home alive grew dimmer.

No one thinks they have ever seen Jazz Fenton cry that much before. Jack and Maddie were on a rampage, tearing through the city for hints of their son. They had even ignored a ghost attacking the mall, too busy stopping every black Sprinter van they could find for clues of their son.

The video was somehow leaked to the public - Tucker and Sam had allowed it to slip into public domains with a scrambled VPN, hoping to get someone to report anything- and this video had made its way to a certain billionaire in Gotham.

Batman had been working the case for months, looking for a pair of twins that had vanished from Daminan's class. They had gotten the boys back, now able to see in the dark as their meta genes had been forcefully unlocked, and realized they were rescued before they were able to get to the primary base.

The only clue the Bats had was a symbol of a two-headed snack on the collars found around the twin's necks. The same collar that had been forced upon Danny Fenton when he was taken in the video.

Bruce had called his co-workers the second he noticed the mark. They had geared up and gone to Amity Park to investigate. Clark, Diana, Billy, and Bruce had arrived at Amity Park in their civilian personas. They came separately to avoid suspicion, hoping to use Billy as bait.

The Justice League was still coming to terms with Captain Marvel being a fourteen-year-old kid, but none could call into question the good work Billy did.

The three had different stories about why they were in the middle of nowhere in Amity Park.

Bruce had been in town to set up a new outreach for the Wayne Foundation. Clark, a news reporter investigating the missing child case of Danny and Diana, had chosen to tour the most haunted cities in the United States for her museum curator.

Like a charm, Billy had gotten the attention of the kidnappers, and only three days after arriving in Amity as a homeless kid, he had been taken. The moment Billy pressed the button on his bracelet, the three were notified that he had been kidnapped.

Clark kept an ear of the van, listening to the bracelet's beeping that no human could pick up. Just in case, the Leauge had embedded a tracker into Billy's left arm, and Bruce had followed it to the secret Lab.

A message to the Watch Tower had backup zapping down in seconds. They waited until nightfall before springing a rescue mission. Flash, Black Canary, Red Tornado, and Vigilanete had been sent in to find and bring the children home while Bruce, Clack, and Diana worked on taking out the guards.

Danny had woken in a test tube with multiple needles and wires digging into his skin, facing a group of superheroes that stared back at him in horror. The last thing he remembered had been the passing cells of meta children before he was taken to a room with a glass tube.

After being shoved into it, Danny was put to sleep with a gas. He had not been conscious for the entire time he was taken. That means he was not awake when the scientists had accidentally caused his heart to flatline.

They had thrown his body into an unmarked grave, intending to bury him with the three other nameless victims. Danny had not been awake when his survival instincts had triggered his shift to Phantom and floated out of the grave.

Like a balloon with helium, Danny had drifted far from the grave, flouting in the wind unconscious due to the gas.

He had awakened for only a few seconds, floating above the road that led to Amity, confused about how he got there. Sadly, the very same van that had just finished burying him had driven down the street, spotting him in the air and choosing to capture the famous Phantom.

They had stolen some Fenton Tech on a stakeout while waiting to take the Fenton Boy and were happy to see it had knocked out the ghost. The men had taken Phantom back to the lab, setting him up in a tube so their scientist could pull out his green blood for tests.

The Justice League had broken in that night. After the raid, Bruce hacked the computers, looking for clues about the missing children. His heart fell to his feet when he read the reports.

The children had died in the experiments. Danny Fenton was on the list of failed experiments, his time of death marked in the conclusion section of a report like he wasn't a young boy who had just finished his first year of high school.

Bruce had only been able to pull himself together long enough to find information about Phantom being held in a deeper part of the lab. Clark, Barry, and Bruce had gone to the lower levels, intending to set the ghost free.

What they found was Phantom in his most basic form. A young ghost with his jumpsuit cut open, showing the same markings the other rescued children bore.

Lichtenberg scars around the neck, torso, and arms.

Phantom had been a new ghost. Bruce and Clark had verified that in their investigations. They had never thought to question what had created him, only that he had appeared a few months ago wearing a hazmat jumpsuit and seemingly unable to leave Amity Park.

The same jumpsuit the other meta children were forced to wear to contain their experiments.

Phantom had been a meta child that had been killed by these people. He was recaptured and placed in a strange ghost coma, leaving the Justice League baffled about how to help him.

Besides blinking, his eyes opened for only a few seconds when he was rescued; he had remained unconscious after muttering, "There are more. Fifty-seven kids....help them, please."

The League had taken him back to their headquarters while working through the labs and digging up the bodies of the other victims. The people involved with this heinous crime had all taken their lives, having snuck a cyanide tablet into their teeth.

None of them faced justice properly, not for the deaths they caused or the angst that Phantom had been dragged into. The ghost had been unable to move on, sticking around even after everything they had done to him.

He had likely been attempting to get help for the remaining prisoners because every place he had attacked had been involved with this lab.

The Justice League would later reveal this information to the horrified townspeople.

Valerie Gray would be throwing up in the bathroom after watching the news. Her father's previous employers had been half on staff with the people who had killed Phantom.

They made a list of potential children to test for the meta gene. She had been on there, and had Phantom not gotten her dad fired when he did, she would have been kidnapped. He saved her life, and she had shot at him in return.

Dash Baxter would be found drinking and sobbing in the school parking lot. He had been drowning in guilt for dragging Fenton behind the mall, where he had thrown him in the dumpster. He had nothing to do with the kidnapping, but he blamed himself nonetheless.

Those people had been attempting to take Fenton for weeks, and he created the perfect opening. Now Danny Fenton was dead by the same people who made his hero. Dash vowed never to bully anyone again, even as Kawn took him home and helped nurse him through his hangover.

Sam Madison and Tucker Foley moved about like zombies. They kept sending messages to someone who would never answer, searching the sky for Phantom's glow, or had their phones on just in case they found Danny. With each uncovered grave, the pair grew hopeful as Danny had not been among the recovered bodies.

People were slightly heartbroken for them. They would wait on a best friend that was never coming home.

Not to mention the Fenton's reaction to Danny's fate. The funeral had been one of the hardest ones any of them had ever attended. The cries of the three remaining Fentons had echoed in their nightmares.

Worse, they had closed their portal. The Fentons had sealed everything to do with ghosts away, no longer able to stand the research now that they knew Phantom had been attempting to prevent Danny's death.

Maybe if they had stopped to try and communicate with him, they might have been able to save their son.

Jack and Maddie were still certified geniuses and were able to fall back on working for Wayne Enterprises as engineers. They moved away, with Jazz looking lifeless without her brother.

People in Amity Park passed by the old Fenton Works sign, never to see it glow again. They also realized that Phantom had vanished, many assuming that now he was at rest due to his murder being solved.

They were unaware he was floating above them in the Watch Tower's medical wing, locked away in slumber.

John Constantine had noticed his ectoplasm levels had not moved since his rescue. For some reason, Phantom's body was not producing it properly like other ghosts- most likely due to experiments they had forced him through.

This caused a coma, with every Justice League Dark member scratching their heads. In every way, Phantom seemed fine, but his core did not react correctly.

It was almost as if it had never been adequately formed, as if Phantom was still alive somehow.

After months of trying to figure out how to stabilize the ghost's core, John contacted a ghost doctor from the Infinite Realms. It took calling in a few favors to get the information, let alone the actual communication with the ghost doctor, but he could do it.

He was a magic expert, not a medic. This was the only chance Phantom had to ever wake.

Thankfully, Frostbite seemed to know exactly what to do when his large eyes landed on the floating figure in the medical incubator the League had placed him in.

He had assured them he could help Phantom but needed to take him back to his hospital to properly treat the ghost. After the Yeti agreed to an Oath Vow stating he would not allow any harm to fall upon Phantom while under his care.

Another agreement of having John present for Phantom's treatment had solidified Justice League into letting the being move Phantom into the Far Frozen.

A year after Danny Fenton's death, Phantom's eyes snapped open to the relieved Frostbite and the beaming trench coat man.

He had never been so confused when the first thing his doctor said was, "Great One, I am sorry to say the humans believed Daniel Fenton has passed while you were in a coma."

Well.

How was he going to bring himself back to life?

[6qubed]

nowadays y’all listen to rappers called shit like “yung tingle” so how ‘bout you shut up

“Korn” “limp biscuit” “smashing pumpkins” … is this a metal festival or are we about to sit down for thanksgiving dinner

[ennabear]

loser! sev getting all whiny and pathetic when she eats you out, rutting her hips against the mattress, cumming in her pants, accidentally overstimulating you like crazy because she's just loves it so much.

accidentally overstimulating HERSELF from eating you out?????? GODDDDDDD

HEHEHEH i said i was gonna respond to these as small little thoughts but i wanna write a real blurb about this because. wow. so true and real it brought tears to my eyes. THANK U FOR THISSSS i wish i could keep it in my asks forever hehehe… 18+

your wife has had one of the worst weeks of her life. the undercity has just completely gone rogue ever since silco has passed, and every effort she’s made to have everyone band together against topside is just worthless. nobody wants to listen to her, too obsessed with their own personal drama to see the bigger picture.

to make matters worse, she’s had to keep jinx under control too. when sevika imagined silco’s death, she didn’t imagine him leaving jinx in the will. and as if the sudden addition of jinx into her life wasn’t enough to stir the pot, jinx has found her own stray now too.

she’s exhausted. sick of sleepless nights spent erasing and rewriting silco’s mistakes, the bitter frost lingering in the streets leaving everyone in a tense and irritable mood. of fucking course she’s the one who has to deal with it, nobody else wants to take a stand or set things straight.

seeing her this way breaks your heart. she barely comes home anymore, usually to be found slumped over silco’s desk with a half empty bottle of whiskey at her side. her arm thrown across the table, an empty promise of getting it fixed and reattached hanging over her head. what she really needs is a new arm, but she refuses to take smeech up on his offer.

god damn it, your wife is so fucking stubborn. it turns you on immensely. because she’s loyal. she’s offered a brand new arm with all of the bells and whistles she could ever ask for, as long as she turns in jinx. easiest job ever, and she’s never liked the blue haired kid anyways. yet, she stands her ground. instead she’s been taking insults like “a bird without wings is just a funny lookin’ rat.” and trying to navigate her life with only one half of herself.

but tonight, she’s gonna make her absence up to you. she wanders home through the dark streets and alleys of zaun, straight to your shared doorstep. one could barely call it a house, as there weren’t really any dwellings that have survived this long in the undercity without being overtaken by moss and vines or crumbled to pieces— but it certainly was a home. especially when she gets to walk in and see you looking cozy and domestic.

you stare up at her when she saunters through the door, a crease between her brows and wet, red eyes painting her face as usual. she sighs, walking over to you and joining you on the couch. in an instant, she’s in your arms again. just the way you like it. without a word, you massage her temples as she nuzzles her face deeper into your hold. your touch is magic, she can feel the month long migraine she’s had suddenly disintegrating.

before she can stop it, before she even realizes what’s happening, hot streams of tears leak out of her eyes and roll down her cheeks. you coo at her and swipe them all away, kissing the top of her head repeatedly as a reminder of your love. yeah, it’s been a day or two since you’ve seen her, and sure, it’s been even longer since you’ve been on a date or had any sort of alone time, but you know that it isn’t personal. she’s trying her best, even if that means stumbling over her words and tripping over her feet.

“bad day, huh?” you ask, another kiss to the top of her head.

“bad week, bad month, bad year…” she responds with a sniffle. “i just wanna be close to you.”

she peeks up at you though her wet eyelashes, some of her black eye makeup smudged around her eyes. you giggle at her, she’s so fucking adorable. and so sweet, so hardworking, so gentle. before you can muster out an ‘i love you’, she bolts forward and catches your lips in a sweet kiss, pinning you to the couch.

“sev, god, you’re so needy.” you pant when she finally releases your lips to catch her breath.

“i’ve missed you, shit. wanna taste you so bad.”

with that, she shoves your pants down, already eagerly sucking bruises into your neck. you groan, you’ve forgotten how good your wife’s touch feels. a big, warm hand wraps around your own, and although they’re rough and cracked, you’ve never felt anything softer. tears threaten to spill out of your own eyes with the amount of love and adrenaline pumping through your veins, but sevika grounds you by shuffling on top of you.

you think she’s about to sit her cunt on top of yours as she strips herself of her pants, but you’re mistaken, and you realize this when she whimpers out a little “hand me that” and nods toward one of the pillows behind you.

confused and turned on as you are, you do as she asks and hand her a throw pillow which instantly gets shoved between her thighs. she wastes no time in diving forward to lick up all of your arousal, her eyes growing starry as a little string of white connects itself from your clit to the tip of her nose. you almost faint. fuck, you’ve missed her face, even more what it can do to you. so you buck your hips up and slowly grind yourself against her face, sevika matching your pace with her own hips.

in an instant, she’s lost in the pleasure— more specifically the taste of you and the slow grind of her cunt against the pillow. moans vibrate through your folds as she buries her face between your spread legs, and you whimper, already embarrassingly close to the finish line.

surprisingly, sevika cums first, the pillow cradling her wet cunt as she humps against it in time with her licks and sucks. that doesn’t stop her, and she doesn’t even stop after you cum and start yanking her head away out of intense pleasure. she can’t stop, though, not now. she’s in too deep. literally. her tongue is buried inside of you and her nose runs over your clit with every thrust, her mind absolutely racing with emotional thoughts and horny feelings.

“sevika, please!” you grunt, her grip on your hips is relentless. “babe, i already came, that’s enough.” but judging by the way she completely ignores you, you wonder if she even heard you at all.

she whines when you tug on her hair or push her shoulders away with the heels of you feet, her face completely melted to your cunt. she never stops fucking her pillow, and now her clit is red and rubbed raw by the cloth. she doesn’t know how many orgasms she’s had, it could range between three and twenty. she lost count when she came for the umpteenth time after you pulled her hair and moaned her name at the same time.

tears spill from her eyes again, but this time they’re happy tears. god, she’s missed you, and she doesn’t ever wanna stop. you take her face in your hands when you notice the sobs and sniffles she’s letting out, along with more whimpers and groans. this time, she relents, slowing her own hips first and then licking up the rest of the cum and spit between your thighs.

“sev, baby, what’s wrong?” you ask, concerned that maybe you hurt her or she hurt herself.

“i just missed you…” she starts. “and i love you so much.” she crawls up your body and lays her head on your stomach while you both catch your breath, the pillow being discarded on the floor. your fingers work wonders on her scalp, and she almost falls asleep after half an hour of matching her breathing to yours.

“don’t fall asleep yet.” you warn, although you’ve been yawning more than she has. “you still need to carry me to bed and tuck me in like a gentleman.”

“you might have to be the gentleman tonight,” she giggles. “i don’t think my legs are sturdy enough to carry us to the bedroom right now.”

[iinsertblognamee]

a baby? for me?

summary; you break the news to your daughter that you and alexia are having a baby pairing; alexia putellas x single mum!reader spanish | english translation

"Estás bien?" 'are you okay?'

Alexia's attention is taken away from the gym equipment in front of her and towards the resistance band that was thrown at her forehead, before turning towards the person who threw it.

Mapi's wearing a slight frown as she looks over her best friend. Looking down at her knee for a split second before back towards Alexia's face.

"Tu rodilla está bien?" 'Is your knee okay?' The midfielder can't help but nod her head suspiciously, her eyebrows frowning before asking "Sí? Por qué?" 'Yes? Why?'

"Has estado fuera de esto toda la mañana. Qué está sucediendo?" 'You've been out of it all morning. What's going on?' She moves closer to Alexia, making sure to lower her voice before continuing "Es yn? o maní?" 'Is it yn? or peanut?'

The two of you had found out you were finally pregnant after two attempts of IVF, besides yourself and Alexia knowing about the pregnancy, you had told Mapi and Ingrid as well as Jonatan. You both had agreed to keep it quiet until your first trimester was over, not wanting to create any panic from friends and family during this time.

However today you were adding one more person to the list. Mia, your daughter.

She was Alexia's daughter too, after everything Alexia had done for the two of you - everyone knew Alexia was Mia's second mum.

Mia was her daughter, for all intents and purposes.

Alexia met you and Mia three years ago, Mia crying in the middle of the supermarket as you tried to calm her down. Alexia discarded the two dips in her hand that she was debating on getting to send a small wave to the upset two-year-old. Mia took one look at the footballer before calming down.

Alexia had been smitten ever since.

Mia's father was never really in the picture, a sloppy one-night stand with a stranger was all it took for you to fall pregnant. You had attempted to get in contact with the biological father, but after meeting at a cafe to let him know of the situation you found yourself grateful he walked away. Mia and you didn't need him in your lives.

Alexia had no problem stepping up, she was coined 'My Lexi' by Mia within six months of meeting, and Alexia's heart beat that little bit faster every time she was blessed to hear her nickname.

Mia never called Alexia 'mum', but when you explained that Mia thought having a 'Lexi' was so much cooler than having a dad, Alexia didn't mind the name one bit.

She hoped that maybe one day, when Mia was comfortable she may find herself being Mia's mami, but she wanted it to happen authentically and on Mia's terms. So for now, she was Lexi.

"si, todo esta bien Mapi" 'yes, everything is fine, Mapi' Alexia started, leaning back into her stretches, flexing her leg a little further, "Yn is telling Mia today"

Mapi's eyes widen almost comically, her mouth falling open before stepping closer to her best friend. "sobre el" 'about the' she pauses, as she lowes her voice "Baby?!". Alexia nodded her head, rolling her neck as she felt a slight pop from her muscles.

"sin ti?" 'Without you?' Mapi questioned.

Alexia ran her hand over her face, nodding her head once more "si, yn and I talked and we agreed that it would be best for yn to break the news to Mia alone, and tonight the three of us can have a talk. In case Mia has any questions".

You and Alexia agreed Mia needed to hear this news from you, the pair of you had no idea how she would take the news. It had always just been the two of you, and then Alexia. You didn't have any siblings and Aleixa's sister didn't have any children of her own so for as long as Mia had been aware, she was the only baby of the family.

You had tried to tell Aleixa how excited Mia would be, you had caught her watching the children at the park and the longing in her eyes to have someone to play with but Aleixa was still super nervous. She didn't want Mia to feel like she was getting replaced or felt that Alexia would love the new baby more than her. Mia was and always would be Alexia's first baby.

The song connected to the speaker finishes, and the next one starts. Alexia takes this as her cue to stretch the other leg. Before Alexia could get in the next position her phone vibrated between the pair.

She takes a deep breath, before picking up the phone and seeing two new messages from you.

mi amor 💗 ignore my sniffles in the background

mi amor 💗 sent a video

Mapi seems to get Alexia's need for some distance, before giving her one quick hug and moving away from the anxious mother. Alexia takes one last look around the gym. noting it's completely empty before turning up the volume and pressing play.

The video starts with you setting the phone up and leaning it up against something as Mia gets comfy on your couch back at your shared apartment. The sound of one of Mia's shows in the background suddenly becomes mute as you pick up the TV remote.

"Mama!" Mia splatters out, as she looks between the TV and her mum. You reach your arms out, an indication you knew Mia would take as to come into your embrace - which she does.

Alexia can't help the small smile that appears on her lips as she watches her two girls embrace on the screen. You give Mia a small, delicate kiss on the crown of her head before pulling away enough to catch her attention, but still close enough that she was still in your embrace.

"I have a little something for you baby girl" You take this chance to pull out a small piece of paper from your pocket - Aleixa recognises it instantly as one of the ultrasound pictures the pair of you had picked up last week.

Mia takes the picture out of your grasp, her eyebrows frowning as she takes in the picture - ensure what exactly she was looking at.

"What is it, mama?" Mia lifted her gaze from the picture to her mum, before tilting her head and taking another glance at the piece of paper. "It looks funny" Mia can't help but giggle as she admits that. You let out a small giggle as well, running your hand through her hair "It does look kinda funny doesn't it huh" You agreed with her, Mia only letting out another laugh at her mother's confession.

"What is it, mama?" She asks once more, her curious nature taking over once again.

"It's a baby" You clarify slowly, your hand now dropped from Mia's hair and into your lap. Alexia felt her heart start to beat faster as she tried to catch every little moment happening on the screen in front of her - trying to catch a glimpse of what Mia was thinking at that moment.

It takes a second or two before your words seem to make sense to Mia, her eyes widening before looking down at the picture once more before towards you "Is it your baby?" her little voice pitched, somehow her eyes managing to widen even further.

You let out a small chuckle, nodding your head as some tears start to swell up in your eyes "Yeah baby, it is"

Mia looks towards her mother before her gaze drops to her stomach and back to her mother's face, "Is it in your belly? Like right now?" Alexia watches as Mia's hand drops the picture and places her little hand on your flat stomach.

You nod once more, your hand now covering your daughters, "It is, but it's very little right now so we can't see the difference quite yet".

Alexia knew exactly what you meant, she would check every morning before the two of you got out of bed and everything night before turning the lights off. She would run her hands over your stomach, planting kisses and mumbling promises to your unborn child. But besides the slightly firm change, that was the only indication there was a child growing in your womb as of now. That and the very picture sitting in Mia's lap.

Alexia watches as Mia's mouth forms into a slight O shape, before letting out a loud shriek and jumping up on the couch, bouncing and giggling.

"I'm going to be a big sister" She declares to the room, "Mama I'm a big sister!"

The first sniffle shifts Alexia's attention from Mia and onto you as you let a few tears fall down your face, but a massive smile plays on your lips. Alexia's face mirrors yours.

"What do you think about that sweetheart, is that okay?"

Mia throws herself into her mum's embrace, squeals leaving her lips "I'm so excited!-" Then before continuing, she suddenly pulls herself out of your embrace, her gaze falling to your stomach before placing herself right next to you on the couch, her hand back on your belly. "Sorry Mama, don't wanna hurt our baby"

Alexia thinks her heart stops at Mia's declaration. Our baby.

"You won't hurt them lovie, we just have to be a little more careful is all, and once they come they're going to be very small and fragile"

"That's okay mama, I'll look after her. Or Him. I don't care, mama. I don't. I'm so happy"

"That's very kind of you baby" You kiss her head, Mia's hand still flush against your stomach. "How come I can't see the baby yet Mama?"

The sight of your flat stomach was confusing Mia, she knew when people were having babies that had big stomachs, like her school teacher who had to leave because she was having a baby.

"Because the baby is still very small, but they'll continue to grow and as they get bigger and bigger you'll be able to see then".

Mia didn't seem too impressed by your answer, her eyes squinting to see if she could notice a difference towards your belly.

Just when Alexia thinks the video is going to end, Mia pipes up with another question.

"Who put the baby in there Mama?"

You and Alexia both freeze up at the same time, a nervous giggle leaving your lips as you try to quickly come up with something that would satisfy a five-year-old.

"Uh, Alexia and I did with the help of some doctors"

"Why?" Mia asks, looking from your stomach to your face.

"Uh. Well. Well, we wanted you to be a big sister. Is that okay?"

Your answer is enough for Mia, who throws her arms around your neck before giggling into your hair. Her response is muffled but from what Alexia can tell, you are grateful for her answer, your shoulders dropping in relief as you kiss the side of her head. "I'm glad you're so excited honey".

"Mama, when the baby comes, can I hold it?" If Mia's face wasn't so serious, you would have giggled a little at the question - Alexia watching the video doesn't stop the giggle from escaping her lips.

"Of course baby, you can hold them, and Alexia and I would love for you to help us out"

"I want to help Mama! I'll help you and Lexi"

"I know you will, you can help push the stroller and bathtime and maybe even a diaper or two" You joke at the end but Mia doesn't seem fussed, a smile growing as she nods her head along. "I'll help so much mama. I will"

"I know you will baby, you'll be the best helper" You assure her, before grabbing the phone from the spot you had placed it before. "I'm going to send this video to Aleixa, is there anything else you want to say to her?"

"Lexi! We having a baby, come home so we can celebrate" She quickly turns her attention from the screen to you, asking for your permission "Can we celebrate when Lexi comes home?" You giggle and nod your head in response, a squeal leaving Mia's lips. "Lexi Mama said yes! Hurry home so we can celebrate! I miss you"

You mumble something about getting the table clean for this celebration before turning your attention to the screen - your eyes filled with tears once more "I think we can call this one a success, we love you. come home soon"

The video cuts off, as you blow an air kiss towards the camera, Alexia letting the tears stream down her face, as the last few minutes replay in her head.

Mapi's head sticks into the gym a minute or two later, an uneasy look on her face as she takes in her crying best friend.

"¿Estás bien Ale?" 'are you okay ale?'

Alexia responds with some fast head nods, wiping her tears away.

"Amazing, Soy asombrosa" 'I'm amazing'

& bonus

Alexia walked through the front door and was met with an energetic five-year-old throwing herself into Alexia's arms. Squeals leave her lips as she bounces in her embrace.

"Mama! She's home. She's home!" Planting kisses all over her face, Alexia finally sets her down as you walk into the hallway, pulling you into a tight embrace, kissing you on the lips twice over before placing her hand across your stomach.

"How are you feeling mi amor" 'my love'

"Perfect"

Alexia hums into your lips, before pulling away once more "That's what I like to hear".

"Mama! Lexi! Hurry up"

Alexia and you meet each other's eye contact before giggling to each other, "She gets that from you, you know?" you comment, planting one last kiss on Alexia's lips before moving down the hallway and towards your daughter.

Alexia doesn't even try to argue, following you down the hallway, a smile permanent on her face.

Mia was ready at the table, Alexia's favourite meal was dished out, and some soft music playing in the background with some pink streamers across the walls that had been leftovers from Mia's last birthday party.

It was about halfway through the dinner, before Mia dropped her fork, looking between you and Alexia.

"Everything okay pequeño?" 'little one?' Alexia questions, her fork placed next to her plate as she reaches out for Mia's hand.

"Lexi, are you gonna be this baby's mami?"

Alexia swallows thickly, looking at you for some guidance between back towards Mia, nodding her head a little "Yeah, pequeño. Yeah, I am" 'little one'

"Can you be my Mami too?"

The simplicity of her questions makes Alexia's heart stop for a second, she shifts her gaze towards you once more, your face positively beaming, as a tear trails down your cheek. You give a slight nod before turning your attention towards your daughter.

"Uh. Do you." Alexia clears her throat a little, the tears swelling up once more "Do you want me to be your mami baby?"

Mia looks between the pair of you, before picking up her fork and taking another mouth full of her food. "I kinda thought you already were. I drew you in my family picture for school and you love me like how mama loves me"

"I do baby, I love you so much, you're my hija" 'daughter'

"Hiji" 'daughter' she tries to repeat, Alexia had been teaching her Spanish since your second date, claiming that no child of hers wouldn't know her mother language.

"It means daughter. because you are, always have been and always will be my little love"

"I love you mami"

"I love you hija"

"And I love you both" you add, your heart beaming.

[rafesangelita]

Pouge!Sweetheart!Reader and Rafe request! Rafe gets carried away in bed with dirty talk, saying degrading mean stuff about her being a pouge, because he is really horny and she gets a bit taken back because she doesn’t know if he truly feels that way about her and he can tell she is a bit standoffish and down after and he doesn't know what he has done :(

warnings: unprotected sex, degradation, light fluff, a little bit of angst, rafe feels rlly bad :(

both you and rafe managed to surprise each other when you two proposed new ideas to spice up your sex life. choking, overstimulation, roleplay, degradation, to name a few. while rafe reassured you that he loved how vanilla you two were in bed, you wanted to be everything and more for him, your own mind a little curious to see where he takes things. the first time rafe decided to rough things up a bit, it brought new sides out of both of you, and you equally loved it. however, you didn’t know how to feel about degradation this time around.

“oh, my- please don’t stop rafe!” you cried out, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment, your boyfriend’s hips pistoning in and out of you at an unforgiving speed. “so fucking needy, huh? always wanting more like the fucking pogue you are?” his words made you blink, unsure of what he meant by that. you still moaned, his length pressing that spot inside of you that made you tremble. rafe leaned down, taking your lips in a kiss. “you’re so fucking sexy, who woulda’ thought a pogue had it like this?”

there he goes again. this time when he kissed you, you didn’t move your lips, your mind simply somewhere else. eventually rafe finished, his arms caging you in as he cursed against your skin. thankfully he didn’t pay too much attention to your face, instead he pulled you against his chest and spooned you as he whispered sweet nothings in the curve of your neck. he intertwined your fingers, rubbing your back soothingly until you fell asleep.

the next day you woke up early, still feeling off from last night. while rafe was snoring softly, you managed to slip out of his arms, taking it upon yourself to get ready and go out to get breakfast. apart of you felt bad for going out without him, and quite literally leaving your camper without a word, but you needed some space to clear your head. soon enough, your cell was ringing off the hook with calls and voicemails from rafe. when you got back home, rafe was sitting on the little steps outside, his knee bouncing as he chewed on his thumb.

“where were you?!” rafe looked confused as you walked past him and inside. “i got breakfast.” you shrugged, your voice barely above a whisper. “breakfast?” he watched you take a seat on your little couch, his hands on his hips as he stared down at you. rafe didn’t know what to think, as far as he knew he thought everything was fine, great even, between you two. “what’s wrong?” he sat down, immediately picking up on the way you avoided his gaze. “hey, talk to me, tell me what i did, baby.” he grabbed your chin.

you looked up at him, concern written all over his face. “last night,” you started, “..you said some things that bothered me.” you swallowed thickly. rafe shut his eyes momentarily. “i was a little thrown off when you mentioned the whole ‘pogue’ thing.” you watched as the realization dawned on him, a groan leaving his lips as he rested his head in his hands. “fuck,” he cursed, “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean anything i said, y/n. i wasn’t thinking straight.” he shook his head. you sighed, placing your arms around him.

“even the part where you said i was sexy?” rafe paused, a laugh tumbling from his mouth as he turned his eyes on you. you were too sweet for your own good. “no, i definitely meant that.” he clarified, resting his forehead on yours. “i’m so sorry if i made you feel bad, that was never my intention.” he hugged you, pulling you onto his lap. you studied his face, knowing he was genuine. “i know you are. it’s okay.” you pecked his lips. “how about this,” he took your hand, “instead of us trying to make things ‘rougher’ why don’t we try softer? praise instead of degradation?”

you smiled, nodding at him while he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “..i can’t believe you got breakfast without me.”

[thekinslayed]

In This Warmth

summary | Aemond finds his home in you. (requested.)

pairing | modern!aemond targaryen x gf!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI!, saltburn/college au, unprotected sex, established relationship, sleepy sex, no plot heh, dry humping

wordcount | 1.7k

note | this one's for all my sleepy college girlies :) this is part of my modern aemond saltburn au, but can 100% be read as a standalone! v self indulgent bc college is hard and i need an aemond to help me thru it :P

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated! (divider by @starzyyy1)

The bag hanging off Aemond’s shoulder was heavy. The dark backpack was filled with thick books and his bulky MacBook, the weight slightly tilting his posture to one side as he mad his way to his dorm. Cigarette in one hand and a red Nokia in the other, he checked to see if he’d missed any calls from you. There were none, not even so much a text.

He checked the time, 3:47 p.m., and found little urge within him to panic over your silence. Your boyfriend of three years knew you well enough by now to know exactly where you were, and as he made his way up the aged stairs and turned the key into his room, the sight that greeted him confirmed his assumptions. There you were, face down on the pillow and snuggled beneath his navy blue covers, deep into your slumber. Your day clothes were thrown haphazardly over the armchair, undoubtedly clad in one of his shirts as you napped peacefully after your 11 am class, your only class on Thursdays. With the way you didn’t flinch at every creak of the wooden floorboards in the centuries-old room, one would think you’d finished multiple classes back to back, but Aemond’s girl was always so sleepy, always seeking the warmth of their space whenever she could. 

Despite your insistence to keep your own space, your boyfriend’s room had become familiar with the scent you left upon his sheets with how much you’d spent your time with him. It didn’t help that his building was much closer, much easier to navigate your tired eyes towards when the urge to nap beckoned you home. 

Aemond couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you, at the domesticity of it all. He would have liked to spend the rest of the sunny afternoon with you, preferably awake, perhaps at the park where you could both read under the big oak you liked so much or get you something warm and hearty when you were sure to be starved after having nothing but granola bars while rushing to class. Yet, he was nothing but pleased to have you in his bed after a mind-numbing day of numbers and lectures. He was quick to drop his stuff onto his computer chair, then ridding himself of his dark jeans and sweater, before slowly climbing onto the bed to settle by your side. The standard mattress was hardly big enough to fit the both of you, with his long frame and your sprawled-out sleeping form, but he liked the proximity. You moved to make space for him on instinct, still deep into your slumber, but the silver-haired man threaded his arms around you, caging you close. 

You let out a dreamy sound as he snuggled into your neck, breathing in your scent. You smelled so sweet— of roses and vanilla from your favorite perfume, but also of him, of the woody musk of his sheets. Hands wandering beneath the duvet, he was pleased to find you sans any bottoms, his old band tee riding up your tummy and exposing your panties when he dared to peek. 

He just couldn’t help it. His palms caressed your soft thighs, nicely warmed by being under the covers for a bit. Then, he started trailing upward to cup your behind and squeeze the plump flesh under his colder, rougher hold. This made you hum, slowly stirring awake.

“Aem?” you mumbled, eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered, planting a small kiss on your hairline. “Didn’t mean to wake you, beautiful, sorry.”

“S’okay,” you responded softly, arms pulling him in close. Your leg naturally wound over his hips, limbs intertwining like twin vines. Aemond moved to lay over you as you stayed on your back, but the mewl you let out when his hips stuck flush against yours had him trying to pull away, though you wouldn't let him. His body always had a way of reacting before his mind did, easily succumbing to the tantalizing spell of your embrace despite his better thinking. Your leg around his hips kept him close, his half-hard cock finding its place in the soft indent of your folds through your panties.

“Baby–” he tried to say.

“S’okay,” you repeated, voice still tinged with exhaustion but your eyelids had now opened, looking at him through a bleary daze. A subtle cant of your hips let him know what you wanted, and that it was alright for him to take what he needed. 

Aemond exhaled a deep breath, before shifting his weight over his arms to hover over you. His hips ground against yours, cockhead brushing against the soft cotton of his underwear. You let out another sweet hum, right against his ear, and Aemond started to feel warm and tingly. With another leg wounding around his slim hips, your lover set a gentle pace, unrushed and unburdened. It spurred the fire in his loins, not so much to a burning blaze, but a warm glow, just enough to heat you both right up. His chest was flush against yours, your arms tied at the back of his neck with his nose finding purchase in the junction of your neck as his hips continued to grind against your clothed mound. It was nice to take the time like this, slow yet still full of passion and intimacy as you always were, but he would admit he was starting to need more, with his length hardened to full mast and the front of his briefs starting to grow damp. His large palms settled on both sides of your hips, toying with the laced hem of your thong.

“Can I take these off?” he asked quietly, kissing your temple. You nodded meekly, letting him pull your panties off, leaving you in nothing but his shirt. The only time he would willingly unwind himself was to pull the last of his clothing off, before snuggling back into your warmth in a blink. You welcomed him with a spread of your thighs, apex slightly glistening with your own quiet eagerness. He sunk into you with a sigh, breathing the soft mewl escaping your lips as he captured them in a kiss. The want to savor the moment overcame his baser urge to take you fast and rough like he usually did, prolonging this sweetness with every slow drag of his cock in and out of your walls. 

Your eyes had closed once more, your brows subtly furrowed and creased the skin in between. Warmth enclosed you like a warm cocoon, shielded from the crisp autumn cold seeping into the old windows by the navy duvet you kept lifted to his back. “Missed you,” you moaned, warm breath fanning Aemond’s shoulder with every sigh of satisfaction.

“I missed you so much, baby, couldn’t wait to come home to you,” he muttered against your skin, before kissing the skin peaking out from the collar of his shirt. Your walls engulfed him like a warm hug, and he’d long decided there was no better feeling this life could give him. Aemond had never found so much warmth in one place before. In his own home, Dragonstone, it was always so cold. The stone walls always seemed to be void of such warmth, as did everything else within it. He’d never would have imagined to have found so much of it here, in one of Oxford’s rickety, old dorm rooms, though it might have something to do with the person beneath him. You were the sun, bright with life, and he was but the moon blessed to have been bestowed some of your light. You were the dawn after the everlasting midnight blues where he could only stumble around in the dark blindly. You were the warmth that welcomed him home.

“Aem… I’m—”

“I know, baby, it’s okay. I’m right there with you,” he said. His arms were starting to strain from holding himself up, and beads of sweat were starting to dampen his forehead, but it didn’t bother him one bit; not when you clung to him like a lifeline, and he’d be damned if he would ever let go. 

The tide had taken you first, washing you over as you huddled into his neck and moaned his name. Your walls spasmed around him in the aftermath, and it was then he was taken under. Aemond came with a soft groan, before collapsing half his weight on top of you and the other onto the mattress. His separation from your heat was a reluctant endeavor, but he found that nuzzling into your chest was the next best thing. 

You were both breathless, unspeaking, yet connected in the silence. With a subtle tilt of his head to look at you, you had already dozed off again with a peaceful look encompassing your features and a flush adorning your cheeks. Aemond’s good eyelid soon started to grow heavy as the minutes passed, your sleepy spell bewitching his usually awake mind. In the time he had bloomed under your love, his body had grown fully in sync with yours, just as his heart was in tune with your heart’s every song. 

After all of this, outside of this room, he still had much to worry about. His thesis was going to be up for review soon enough, and he’d have to devote most of his waking hours to make sure everything was perfect. This was his last year in Oxford, and by the end of spring, he would have graduated. Leaving you here for a year was what worried him the most. Father needed him in London to start working for the company, but his heart would remain wherever you would. He knew you’d wave him off and tell him you’d be fine, and you would, but he worried for himself too. Aemond didn’t know how to cope with coming home and not finding you there, he just couldn’t imagine it.

Those would have to wait. For now, he had you, and he had this moment. As the sun started to set over the horizon, and the light from his window dimmed into an orangey hue, Aemond descended into his own cloud of slumber. Your breath fanned over his hair, reminding him you were there with him, you always were.

[paracosmicka]

Primal Fears AU content but don’t worry it’s still sonadow

That last one is a repost from last year so if you saw the silly drawings but then read the thing in the bottom left corner and went “wait what the fuck”

It’s because it was an AU thing but I literally only had that drawn out and now you get some context at least:

In this universe Sonic is an assassin/bounty hunter/whatever you wanna call a guy that is hired to specifically to kill other Entities. He meets Shadow when they run into each other because they’re both following the same Avatar. Then they do the normal canon sonadow thing where the first interaction they have always ends with them fighting and beating the shit out of each other. And then they kinda calm down but then Shadow has a similar moment from the beginning of the IDW Sonic comics where he gets absolutely pissed that Sonic managed to distract him from catching the bad guy and zooms away before the two have another chance to speak again.

Here Shadow is a GUN field agent except in this universe GUN isn’t really military and it’s more focused on not only investigating (like the Magnus Institute) but also actively dealing with the Entities. Which sounds great except remember how I said they aren’t military well actually they kinda are because “dealing” with Entities and Avatars just means: throw it in the high-security prison that is guarded by other various Avarars that all work for GUN because it means they don’t have to get thrown in prison. So GUN is kinda like The Magnus Institute + Section 31 working together. So actually I guess it’s like the SCP Foundation.

One day Shadow goes into work and Sonic and there and I’m not really sure on what I’m gonna do in the plot to make him end up there (like maybe he’s undercover and just using GUN to get to his next target or maybe GUN does the “hey we’re gonna throw you in jail if you don’t agree to work for us” idk again not sure yet) but now he’s working with Shadow because they still need to catch that Avatar.

So now we’re sorta caught up, they’re at Club Rouge (and I realized I didn’t specify which Entity she serves in my drawing of her but people who guessed the Stranger ding ding ding here have some sonadow) because Sonic and Shadow need to kinda interrogate Surge and Amy, who are associated with the Slaughter. They have a band called Poison Rose and it’s basically just Grifter’s Bone but they perform rock music instead. And are also probably dating.

Anyway the Big Case™️ Sonic and Shadow are working on is investigating a bunch of spooky murders and they’re pretty sure whoever’s behind them is a Slaughter avatar. But not specifically Amy and Surge☝️ They’re kinda “allowed” to perform the Music That Makes You Die because GUN also has like an “informant” group of avatars they can rely on. These avatars don’t work for GUN, but they agree to chill out on the spooky stuff if it means they don’t get arrested for spooky crimes. So for Poison Rose, “chilling out” on the spooky stuff means that they have to force people to wear earplugs while they perform, which wasn’t specifically stated in MAG 42 if that works or not, not really sure of the magic rules of the Music That Makes You Die phenomena but yeah they gotta do that and probably some other stuff so GUN doesn’t arrest them. Like maybe no swearing or something lol.

Okay gonna stop there before this gets even longer explaining my AU because this was supposed to be just a normal sketch post but whoops.

Oh also I made a playlist for the kind of music Poison Rose performs but it was made private because I didn’t want anyone to stumble across it and be like “pshhhh this dumb person who makes public playlists of their AU that no one knows about what a loser” (me when I make up completely unrealistic scenarios in my head) but now here’s a post explaining that part of my AU so that person can’t make fun of me anymore

[ablobwhowrites]

When I say I NEED that fanfic where reader keeps them in their house I MEAN IT.

(For the first post of this kinda ideas is here. And the second part to this au is here But this is kinda more of explaining the idea of this au that I call: New home sweet home au. And yeah my yap session is starting here rn and some rambles about other stuff too so be warned mega yap session.)

Basically this idea is just ex employee y/n just being like "fuck it" and getting the toys out of the factory and put them at their house and that's was the only plan. Now they got about a shit ton of trauma and injuries and 17 traumatized alive toys who are now living in their house so thats cool.

y/n was a kinda tries to make them feel at home especially after all thats happened and the other toys y/n couldn't save. They try to make the toys they did save feel better and the toys do and well once they feel at home, it's chaotic is the basics of it. And to toys who tries to kill y/n (kinda includes kinda doey for his very understandable crash out but he feels bad for it) try to apologize by trying to be helpful to y/n and trying to protect y/n from anything that tries to hurt them as well. Plus miss delights face was also kinda fixed as y/n tried to fix it with some molding clay but fixed it to the best of their abilities and it's looks good but y/n is trying to get crafty corn to help them with repairing miss delights face because y/n nearly had several heart attacks because of seeing miss delight in the darkness at night when they try to go into the kitchen for a snack.

One night there was robbers who broke into the house once to steal stuff but mommy long legs and catnap heard them and yeah, the robbers ended up being torn apart cause Mommy long legs and catnap ain't going to let their new home and the person who gave them a second chance to die or get robbed (yarnaby ate the evidence). Once y/n was sitting on the couch watching SpongeBob with dogday and basically released the wildest like it went like this.

*y/n and dogday watching SpongeBob*

Y/n: "you know I'm in a metal band and once at a small concert, I was clocked in the head with a phone being thrown on the stage and ended up getting into a fight over a bag of cheeze-it's?"

*Dog day pauses and slowly looks over at y/n, who keeps watching the TV*

Dog day: "what made you remember that while watching SpongeBob!?"

I do imagine that doey (and the rest of the toys) get worried when y/n leaves the house cause like what if something happens and they can't help so they all made a rule that y/n has to call very 30 minutes (or less) and if they don't call in 30 minutes then all hell breaks loose as they all think y/n is dead and never coming back until they do and end up having do Uber eats their groceries for the next 2 weeks. I imagine that y/n has some old game consoles that their parents gave them and some new consoles that y/n doesn't use anymore but they give the toys the old consoles like the Nintendo entertainment or game cube as I do Imagine that if y/n used their new consoles for them. They would flip out cause like all the toys (especially the younger toys) have never seen a advanced game like this as like playtime co was open to 1930 to 1995 so I imagine they only remember the old consoles and I do imagine like doey playing Super Mario Bros on the Nintendo entertainment or any of the toys playing different Nintendo games is just a funny idea for me.

Also imagining that y/n somehow got daddy long legs and baby long legs as well and totally imagining that mommy long legs wearing hair curlers and daddy long legs using some for his mustache cause like you can't tell me they won't do that, maybe even the baby has one for that one strand of hair

But the looming fear of the prototype still is in them. I mean of course the prototype could never leave the factory but with all those materials and what the prototype might be thinking. It's not always out of the question of the prototype will try something like try and leave the factory it's trapped in. Who knows but the toys put all their trust on y/n and y/n has faxed worse and almost got eaten alive by smiling critters and Nightmares critters has weighed on them a bit but could be worse.

(so that's the main basis of this au idea and if you guys like it and want more don't feel shy if you guys wanna request for this au for any ideas or just want more of this. But that's it's for my yap session, please stay safe and drink water!)

[gamesetart]

sweet 'n easy

Art thought dating you would be enough. He's content to have your heart, wait until marriage to have your body, too. But it's proving really difficult when you look like that.

tags: art donaldson x fem! reader, open relationship, guided masterbation, reader's kind of messy in this one (corruption), religious themes/corruption of religious themes. nsfw. minors DNI.

a/n: this is part of what im referring to as the open relationship au and im more than expecting to write more about this dynamic! im also very open to suggestions about it

Art Donaldson is a Good Christian Boy. He's a good, smart young man. He wears his thin silver purity ring on his left ring finger. He wears a delicate silver cross on a chain around his neck. He used to sing in the church choir, and now he spends his Sundays volunteering with the children's sector and frequenting church picnics. If it wasn't for tennis, he'd probably be a priest.

You're not right for him, and he knows it. Guys like him aren't made to marry girls like you - girls with low-cut tops that show off the top hem of your lacy electric purple bra. Girls who wear low, low-cut jeans with your matching purple thong hanging out the back. Girls with butterfly-shaped tattoos hovering on your lower back. Girls who spend weekends drinking and clubbing and dancing with absolutely no room for Jesus.

But there's just something about you. Maybe it's your attitude, the way your hand flies up in class whenever you know the answer to a question, the way you speak, with such clarity, such conviction. Maybe it's the way you walk with your friends across campus, beautiful and assertive, a pack of wild hounds. You're terrifying to him. A force of nature, a thunderstorm. Art's managed to get caught up in your jet stream, but it doesn't mean he's any less scared of falling out. You and all your hot, brash, party-girl friends. You and the 'bitch pack', as some of his friends have taken to calling you and yours. The sorority girl, frat party, dim clubs, bitch pack. Girls like you don't give guys like him the time of day: you're too pretty, too powerful, far too high up on an entirely different social ladder.

But you're different. You're sweet. He's watched you stop to pet stray kittens. He's seen you volunteering to donate blood at the campus blood drives. He's seen you stop to help a girl pick up her books even though you were already late to class. He's seen your notes in his biology lecture, your cute, bubbled handwriting and your array of gel pens. He's seen you buy an extra coffee at the campus cafe for a friend. People contain multitudes, or whatever, right?

So maybe it's no surprise when you end up paired up on an assignment and you bring him back to your dorm room. Maybe he shouldn't have been so stunned by the boy band posters and the stacks of fantasy novels and the stuffed bear sitting on your bed. Maybe he shouldn't have been thrown off by your framed pictures - family, friends - and your collection of Beatles CDs. Just a girl. A normal, nice girl. Who lays out all her notes for him, glances up with a sweet smile, and asks,

"Where d'you wanna start?"

He didn't mean for it to go any further than that. For the study visits to start happening at night, after dinner. For you to start blowing off club nights to curl up on your plush blue shag carpet next to art, pointing out lines of text and highlighting things with a bright pink marker. For you to start eating with him at lunch, talking about your lecture, laughing over some stupid thing your professor said or did. For him to start seeing you, really seeing you, and liking that you saw him, too. It happened before he even registered it. Somewhere, somehow, Art Donaldson fell in love.

It's different than how he felt with Tashi. This isn't that painful, all-consuming desire to please, to have her notice him, the obsession with the idea of her and her tennis. This feels sweeter, kinder. This feels like what he used to read about: fireworks in his heartbeat, butterflies in his stomach, the giddy thrill of First Love. A slower, ennobling sort of love.

If he had it his way, he'd date you. Flowers. Expensive dinners by candlelight. Picnics. The works. Court you for the four years you were at Stanford together, then propose once you graduated. Spend a few years engaged so he could do his tennis, make a good amount of his own money. Save until he could plan a dream wedding. Honeymoon somewhere pretty and exotic, like Bali or Punta Cana. Then the country house and the kids, the white picket fence. Except, Art doesn't really ever get things his way, does he?

"I... I don't know," you say slowly, digging your heels into your carpet. You can't meet his sad blue eyes. You can't bear to. Girlfriend. Boyfriend. It feels alien, even in your head.

He stares at you, crestfallen. Your heart plummets and you race for an explanation, for some way to explain this without blaming him. Because it's not Art at fault, it's his Faith.

"It's not that I don't like you!" you scramble. "I do, really, Art, I do. I just... a girl has... needs, you know? There are things I'd want that I can't ask you to give me. Things I can't take from you."

You both know what it is. You'd never ask him to give up on or waver in his faith for you. Never. You like Art how he is. But you know you'd be wanting. You know you can't wait until your wedding night.

"I... I'm just not the dating type, Art," you explain mournfully. "And you don't want to date a girl like me, anyway, trust me. You deserve someone nice."

"But... you are nice," Art says, and he really does look like you've just torn his heart out and stomped on it. It's horrible. It's awful. And you feel like a monster for doing it, but what can you do?

He doesn't have a solution until a full week later. He pretends (to you, and himself) that he came up with it all on his own, when in reality it was Patrick's idea. Patrick's suggestion, murmured over the phone in cloying low tones, luring him in like sailor to siren, bee to honey, moth to flame. Art, for all his cleverness, for all his ability to read Patrick like a book, could not see it. He trusted Patrick. He should have, he's sent Patrick some of your pictures, talked about you endlessly. But Patrick was on tour, far, far away, where he could do no harm. And Patrick was taken, as he was so keen to remind Art all the time.

"She doesn't have to fuck you, man," Patrick muses. "Date her. Be her good boy, be her fuckin' sweetheart. She can get dicked down with someone else."

"You're suggesting my girlfriend cheat on me?" Art laughs, and even saying it, my girlfriend, even in hypothetical, makes his heart do a flip.

He can practically picture Patrick's face, screwed up with a mixture of pity and disdain. Poor Art. "Nah, man. I'm suggesting an open relationship, you know? Let her fuck who she wants, she's gonna come home to you."

The conviction in Patrick's voice makes Art's heart somersault. Because there's something about that idea that makes his pulse quicken. Patrick's right. You'll come home to him, your heart - the thing that really matters - will be his. He doesn't like the possessive thing that curls up in his chest and purrs at the idea. But he doesn't fight it.

"What if you didn't have to wait with me?" Art asks.

He's twirling a highlighter over his fingers. Cross-legged on your plush duvet, working at a piece of spearmint chewing gum. Gum you'd offered him, gum that you now kept a small stash of in your desk drawer for evenings just like this. The project you'd been paired up on was long over, the proud 96% sitting in your Stanford grading inbox. Now you're just regular homework buddies. Art sought you out for homework he missed because he was at practice and lecture notes he didn't get. You don't mind. You enjoy it, actually. You just wish you could give him more. Hate that you couldn't be what he deserved. It almost feels like leading him on, when he sits with you until the wee hours, sharing diagrams and passing your textbook back and forth. When he brings you your morning coffee before class, or you bring sandwiches and Gatorade to his practices.

Except now, apparently, he has a solution.

"What?" you ask, blinking at him. "What d'you mean?"

Art flushes. Soft pink. Mostly around the ears, you've noticed, red against the gentle gold of his curls. Evening rose.

"I mean, what if..." he looks away. "You know. You went out with me. Dated me. But you could... 'hook up' with other people when you needed to."

You stare at him. Dumbfounded. Art Donaldson. Is sitting on your bed, asking you for an open relationship? Are you dreaming? Has the world suddenly gone mad? Did you go to bed last night and wake up in an alternate dimesion?

"You... are you suggesting... what I think you're suggesting?" you ask faintly.

He nods, ears burning a truly impressive shade of crimson. You suppose you should be flattered, really, the lengths he's going to date you. Most guys would have given up by now, egos bruised, feelings hurt, hearts shattered. And with most guys, you would have been firmer, clearer, colder. Meaner. But Art isn't most guys. Art is sweet.

"I-- shit, Art, wouldn't you rather just date some other girl like you?" you say helplessly.

"I don't want another girl, I want you," he replies plainly. Like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like there's no other answer.

And that's all it takes for you to agree. It's impossible to say no to those baby doll eyes. The two of you set ground rules - you don't tell him who or where or how, just that it happened. He doesn't ask you any questions. No one leaves you any marks. Immediate friends, such as Art's tennis circle and his church friends, are off limits. And that's that. He's your boyfriend now.

Art thought it would suffice. He likes being with you. Holding your hand while you walk to class. Seeing you in the stands when he plays a match. Chaste little pecks here and there. But you're like a pit of quicksand, a hurricane. You draw him in quicker than he thought possible, and now he can't breathe, can't think, can't move. The corruption is slow, certain, and inescapable.

He starts to find himself wanting more.

A kiss in his dorm room that deepens instead of stops, one hand cupping your jaw, the other floating to rest on the small of your back, above the waist of your low jeans, on the warm, bare skin there. A glance that feels more than affectionate, his eyes roving over your collarbone, the glint of your skin in the sun, the line of your bra beneath your sheer, tight shirt. He sees you smile at another guy and a hot flash of jealousy surges through him as he wonders if this is one of the guys you're fucking, if that guy, that random piece of shit, gets to touch you, see you, feel you. He tamps it down, and it feels too little, too late.

You'd be a fool not to notice. Stupid, not to feel the press of his hard-on when he hugs you from behind. Not to sense the shift in the way he kisses you, tongue slipping past your lips, hands sliding down further than they usually do. He plays it off, always. An accident. The heat of the moment. But you know. And because you're weak, because you're a terrible person, because ruining Art Donaldson is the most beautiful thing to ever happen to you, you let him.

"Art, do you ever touch yourself?"

He falls off his chair in his hurry to spin around and look at you. From the floor of your dorm, he stares with wide blue eyes and pink cheeks. "Wha--"

You shrug. "You know. Do you ever..." you make a crude gesture with your hand, and he buries his face up to his nose in his collar.

"No," he says, muffled into his tee shirt. "It's sinful."

It takes every fibre of your being not to laugh. He's so precious, so pure, sometimes you wonder why a guy like him could ever be interested in you at all. Your looks are one thing - you know you're hot. But Art likes you. He likes you even when he can't fuck you. He liked you even when you told him you wouldn't date him. He likes you because you're you. Which makes you feel a little shitty about what you do next, but you can't help it.

"So, what, when you're hard, what do you do?" you press casually. "Send up a Hail Mary and wait?"

Art's ears, which peek out over his shirt collar, are so red they could have been on fire. He shakes his head, a little frantically. He flushes easily, you notice, blood flowing quickly whenever he's even mildly embarrassed. It conjures images of his cock, whatever it might look like, red and aching with need. And you feel a lot less bad, the mental image of Art's dick fuelling the way you lean over, sliding off your chair to join him on the floor. You kneel, hands resting on your knees, and you know he's getting an eyeful of your tits. You keep your eyes on his face.

"Show me," you murmur. "I won't touch you. I won't even touch myself. I just wanna see."

He stares at you like you've asked him for his social security number and all his credit card info. Which, honestly, he probably would have given up a little easier. And you're an awful person, because you know the effect you've had on him, especially these days, you know that Art will probably do anything you ask of him, just for the pleasure of pleasing you.

"Please?" you wheedle, cocking your head to one side lightly, staring up at him through your lashes.

And, really, how could he say no to that?

"I-- okay," he says, and he tries to pretend like he's relenting a lot more than he actually is. Pretends like he's doing you a huge favour, as if his cock isn't straining at the mere idea.

Art doesn't jerk off often. He's only ever used his hand once - the single time Patrick showed him. After that, he'd cried in the bathroom and washed his hands so many times he got a contact allergy. But he's figured out an alternative. One that doesn't involve him touching himself at all. So he slides off his sweats, all too aware of your steady eyes on him. You look at him like you've never seen legs before, as if you haven't seen him at a thousand practices. You look at him like you want to eat him.

He tries to tell himself that's not what's making his cock throb in his boxers. He keeps those on, more for his sake than yours.

"You can lie on my bed," you offer innocently.

Art almost moans. Because it's your bed. Because it's yours, and when he lies down it's almost like lying with you. When he buries his face in the pillow, he can smell you, your vanilla and roses body wash, and, beneath it, the gentle smell of you. It's your sheets he starts to cant into, hips rolling in a familiar motion as he starts to work away the desperate pressure in his cock. It's your pillow he bites in a futile attempt to muffle his moans. And when he looks up, eyes half-lidded, he can see you watching him. You're biting your lip, looking flustered, and it's the cutest he's ever seen you, and he moans your name without meaning you.

You keep your promise, hands folded neatly in you lap as you watch Art rut into your bed like a wild animal, like he's in fucking heat, like your sheets are a person and he's fucking it. Like your sheets are you, you realise, as his eyes meet yours and he whines your name. He's pretending he's fucking you. It's hard not to give up and shove one hand into your panties, but for his sake, you try. Art's moans are almost musical, and with a sharp slap of embarrassment, you're reminded of the sounds he makes when he hits the ball at practice. The same whining grunts of exertion, except now they're fuelled by pleasure, spurred on by the desperate grind of his hips into your sheets, not a fucking tennis ball.

"Oh, oh, fuck," Art's voice gets a little higher. "Oh, fuck, it's so good--"

You can feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you shift slightly. His movements grow a little more erratic, hands balling up into white-knuckled fists into the soft fabric of your sheets. You drink it all in while you can - his ears are red, his cheeks are pink. You follow the curve of his ass in his boxers. You stare at the muscles in his thighs. The bones of his hips.

Art gets breathy when he's about to cum. Breathy, very whiny, almost crying if you're being honest. You file that information away for later.

"Please, please, can I?" he gasps, staring up at you with pupils blown wide with lust. "Can I cum, please, fuck, need it, need it-- you-- fuck, please?"

It's surprising he can even string together a full sentence. "Of course, baby," you murmur, already resolved to not changing your sheets until after you've cum in them too.

Another nugget of information: Art favours a deep grind when he cums, like he's looking for a place to put it, to bury it, looking to breed, to mark, to keep. The sight of him pushing his hips as far into your mattress as he can before he cums, a cry of your name and a shuddering breath slipping from his lips, will probably fuel your nighttime ventures for the next few weeks. You'll use it when you find your next hook up, it'll probably send you right over the edge.

You don't know when you started thinking of Art while you fucked other guys. You just know that now, it's tricky to get off without it. It's hard enough biting your tongue so you avoid saying his name. Now, you'll have the image of his face when he cums locked in your brain forever.

"Shit," Art curses, still breathless, sitting up to examine the sticky mess soaking from the front of his gingham boxers, all the way into your sheets. "Sorry."

You just shake your head. "Don't worry about it. That was... really hot. That's actually how you get yourself off?"

He nods, embarrassed. When he shuffles off to shower, borrowing your shower caddy and a towel, you wait until your door click, and then you practically rip open your nightstand. It takes less than ten minutes with a vibrator and the memory of Art's voice moaning your name for you to add your cum to his. You imagine his hips fucking into you, not your sheets. You imagine pulling his stupid fucking purity ring off and wearing it like some fucked-up engagement ring. His hands are so big, you'd probably have to wear it on your thumb. His hands. You imagine them grabbing you, holding you, sliding up your skin. You wonder what it would be like to have him revere you, not his God. Worship you. You want him to, you think. The idea of him shattering every promise he's ever made, just to be inside you? It sends you over the edge with a muffled cry of his name.

It's that feeling, that messy need for him, that drives you to that frat party. You told him, obviously, and while he seemed sort of put-off when you mentioned you were probably going to sleep with someone, he told you it was okay. Told you to be safe.

You wish you could tell him, but you're worried it'll scare him off. Don't worry, Art, every guy I fuck, I pretend he's you. And now I'll have the knowledge of exactly what you look and sound like when you cum to help me out! Not exactly girlfriend material.

Still, you're thinking of Art when your eyes land on a boy playing beer pong. He's tall, all messy black curls and tanned skin. Handsome, too, if you're being honest, in a messy, frat boy-y kind of way. Hook up hot. You're thinking of Art when he waves you over, holding up a beer like it's a peace offering. You're thinking of Art when you give him your name and ask for his.

"Patrick," he tells you easily. "Patrick Zweig."

[princessbellecerise]

Nameday Celebration

Summary ✩ Call it recklessness or sheer stupidity, but Benjicot is determined not to miss his lovers nameday…Even if it means sneaking into enemy territory for the night

Warnings ✩ Smut, oral sex, established relationship, brief mention of violence, fingering, foul language

The music around you was loud, and though it was quite merry, it did nothing to lift your spirits as you sat at the high table.

All around you, you were surrounded by the happy chatter of other lords and ladies that had travelled from all over to be here. Some of them even shared the same last name as you did, Bracken. But even though the evening was filled with music and light, warmth and laughter from your family, you still felt…disappointed.

You felt terrible, of course, sitting there in your fancy dress and feeling ungrateful at the ball that was thrown in your name—but you couldn’t help it.

People had come from all over the Riverlands for you, uprooted their lives and paid good coin on gifts for you, but none of that was what you truly wanted.

Your father had gone through great lengths to throw you this ball, spending coin that he didn’t have just to celebrate and maybe find you a suitable match.

By all means, it was supposed to be an amazing night in your life and yet you were so caught up in your feelings that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be thankful.

All over, you constantly spotted sigils from houses such as the Freys, the Mootons, and the Mallisters. Even the Tully’s had made an effort to appear but none of those sigils were the ones that you wanted to see.

None of those sigils belonged to him.

Admittedly, you knew that you were a fool to ever think that he’d show up here. Your father would have sooner died than invite a Blackwood into his home, let alone have one around his daughter.

It was a feeble thought, and it was stupid of you to even be upset. Of course Benji would not show up your nameday celebration. You had known that ever since it was announced.

Your lover himself had told you that as much as he wanted to, there was just no way for him to celebrate your nameday with you. He sure as hell wasn’t invited and it would be too risky and too bloody to just show up unannounced.

The chaos that would ensue if a band of Blackwoods showed up would ruin your nameday for certain. And as much as you wanted to see him, you understood that his absence was for the best.

Still though, the feeling of disappointment had its grip on you.

You tried to act normal and you tried to make it seem like you weren’t utterly gutted, but you knew that your emotions had spilled out anyways. You were quiet and withdrawn, choosing to stay at the high table in the seat of honor rather than get up and dance with every one else.

You had chosen to sip on your wine rather than prance around with a man you didn’t care about.

You knew it was petty, but if your father wanted to be petty as well and not invite the Blackwoods, then you vowed not dance with anyone other than Benji.

It was problematic, seeing you were the guest of honor and you had declined many lords already, but you held fast. Each and every man that came to your table was turned away, to the displeasure of your father.

His ulterior motives of trying to find you a husband were not as discreet as he thought them to be. Every time the word ‘no,’ left your lips to a potential match, his lips pressed into a thinner and thinner line.

His patience with you was slowly running out.

Even though others might not have picked up on your sullen mood, he did. You were your father’s daughter after all. It was easy enough for him to tell that something was wrong, and whatever it was, he wasn’t happy about it.

After making sure that the coast was clear and that was no one was listening, he leaned in and addressed you with distain in his voice.

“Is something the matter with the celebration, Y/N?” He asked tightly.

His eyes, similar to yours, bore into you from behind his mask. Curiosity along with annoyance could be seen pooling inside them.

The answer that you had been mentally rehearsing all night finally had its chance to slip out.

“No father. Nothing is wrong with the celebration. Everything you have done for me is beautiful and much appreciated.”

Your father clenched his jaw as you took a sip of your wine, trying your best to avoid his heated stare.

“Is that so?” A small scoff left his lips. “Then why is it that you refuse to act the least bit of happy?”

You swallowed as your mind flickered to Benji. You were grateful that your mother had insisted on a masquerade ball, and that your mask was big enough to cover your face. If it didn’t, you feared you’d give much more than you wanted to away.

“I’m not…unhappy, father,” A sigh left your lips as you looked to the dance floor. Your eyes lingered on all of the couples who got to dance freely. On all of the ladies that got to be with who they wanted to without it ending in a bloody civil war.

Involuntarily, envy pooled in your chest.

“I’m just..tired, that’s all,” You continued, hoping your lie was enough.

It wasn’t.

Another scoff could be heard from your father as his chair scraped. From beside you, on your left, your mother looked on worriedly as he hissed.

“Tired? How can you be tired, daughter, when you have not even bothered to grace the dance floor?”

Silence was heard on your part as you swallowed again. You kept your eyes in front of you for fear that you’d say something to make him angrier. It wasn’t your intentions to get into it with your family, not tonight, so you kept your eyes straight and your mouth shut.

You focused on the many people on the dance floor as your father simply shook his head, mumbling about how ungrateful his daughter was.

Your mother simply gave you a disappointed look, but you ignored them both as something caught your attention.

At first, you thought that you imagined it. A simple trick of the light perhaps, or maybe you just had too much wine, but you could have sworn that you saw a flash of black, accompanied by broad shoulders and wide, gleaming eyes.

Your gaze became locked onto the stranger that bared these traits, so familiar to you but so far away. With your heart hammering in your chest, you watched as he made his way onto the dance floor. You couldn’t see him yet, not properly anyways. He was still hidden behind the horde of people all crowded together. Hiding behind the multitude of dancers and weaving in and out of the crowd.

It took all you had to keep your gaze on him and not look away. You couldn’t lose him. Not until he got closer. Not until you were sure.

For now, you were stuck following his movements with care, watching as he came closer, and closer, until finally…

Your heart stopped.

You weren’t sure if it was the wine or if you truly were hallucinating as your eyes locked with his, Benji coming to stand right in front of the high table. Beside him were two other men, all bare of any sigils and hidden under masks. But they were there. They were…

No, no.

It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t dare.

…Would he?

You started to doubt yourself. Telling yourself that there was no way that it could be him. It was too much of a risk. It was too dangerous for him to even consider such a thing…

But then he began to smile. That damned smile that you would recognize anywhere, under a mask or not. That and his eyes. You knew those eyes. That wide-eyed, crazed stare that often sent your heartbeat racing through your chest.

You knew them like the back of your hand. And sure enough, as you stared into the crowd, looking directly into those eyes, he winked.

Your chair scraped immediately.

Without much warning you stood, shooting a quick mumble towards your father before racing down the steps and towards him with determination.

Your father, thankfully, was none the wiser as you rushed forward, nodding in approval as you reached Benji and looped your arm with his.

He thought you had simply come to your senses and was dancing with some lord.

He had no idea who you were moving towards the dance floor with and if he did, you were sure that the smile would be wiped right off his face.

Lord Bracken would start a war if he knew a Blackwood had snuck under his roof, but alas that was the last thing that you were worried about.

You were more concerned about your lover getting caught, the fool having the nerve to laugh as you dragged him through the crowd. The two men he had brought along with him tried to follow, but they quickly ended up getting lost.

It was almost impossible to navigate through all of the twirling bodies, but you made it your mission to weave through them, Benji’s laughter getting lost under all of the noise. You were grateful that the masks at least concealed your true identities, allowing you to pull him along until no one else was around.

You managed to make it all the way to your room without getting stopped. As you did, you opened the door and all but threw Benji inside, making sure the door was locked before turning to your lover with a glare.

A wild gleam appeared in his eyes as he stared at you. It was obvious that he was more pleased than afraid as he grinned, crackling as he embraced you in his arms.

“Benji, Benji! Put me down!”

His laughter mixed in with your shouts of protests as Benji suddenly picked you up, spinning around in his arms.

The world suddenly went blurry for a moment as your lover twirled you, your eyes going in and out of focus. You felt dizzy whenever he finally let go of you, swaying a little bit until Benji steadied you.

When he did, you swore with everything inside of you were going to kill him.

“You idiot! What the hell were you thinking?”

Benji smiled sheepishly as you turned your fiery gaze on him, a mix of concern and anger lacing your voice. Worriedly, you glanced to the door, afraid that someone would burst through and discover him even though you had locked it.

With little time to protest, you were swept into his arms again and pulled against him.

“I was thinking that couldn’t help myself, my love. It is your nameday, and I had to see you,” He said softly, pressing his forehead to yours.

Instantly, some of your anger began to dissolve. You blamed not seeing him for weeks as the reason you began to fold so quickly, but some of your worry and panic still bled over.

“You had to? Benji you could have been caught! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be here right now? If my father or the guards had discovered you—”

Benji cut you off with a loud laugh.

“Your guards are the sorriest cunts I have ever seen in my life,” He snorted. “I could have snuck an entire army into Stone Hedge and no one would have batted an eye.”

“Hey!”

You playfully swatted his shoulder, giggling softly because you knew he was right. If your guards had done their jobs then Benji wouldn’t be here right now. Alone in a room with their Lord’s daughter, staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes.

A million different things ran through your mind. Everything from terror at getting caught to just being plain excited that he was here flooded your veins. You kept looking over your shoulder, expecting your door to burst open any second while Benji continued to hold you.

It took a few seconds, but when you were sure that no one was coming to seize your lover and take him away, a smile broke out on your face and you quickly embraced him back.

You threw your arms around Benji and held him tight, burying your head into the crook of his neck as you laughed lightly.

“Leave it to you, Benjicot Blackwood, to risk death and torture just to wish me a happy nameday,” You whispered, feeling his chest rumble underneath you.

Benji shrugged. “And to give you this,” He said cheekily, pulling away. When he did, you saw him reach into his pocket for a second before slowly pulling something out.

You bit your lip as Benji handed you a box, a velvet box with the Blackwood sigil embroidered on top.

With a curious look, you opened it up and then gasped at what you saw inside.

“This is…this is for me?” You asked incredulously.

Benji nodded, grinning.

“Of course it is, love. You’re the only Bracken I can give that to without loosing my head,” He teased slightly before continuing.

“D’you like it though? I had to go four towns over, all the way to The Crag so people wouldn’t ask questions. Figured it would have been strange if a Blackwood was caught asking someone to make a neckless with a Bracken sigil.”

The shyness that he sometimes was known for was evident on his face as he waited for your response, Benji nervously playing with his hands.

Luckily though, he didn’t have to wait long. He sighed in relief as he saw you grin, pulling him into another bone crushing hug and kissing his cheek.

“Benji…of course I love it,” You whispered in his ear, making him shiver. You could feel him relax underneath you, hugging you back as your eyes threatened to fill with tears.

“You mean it?” He asked, a bit more vulnerability shining through.

Your heart filled with more love that you thought was capable.

“Of course I mean it. How could I not?” You asked him softly. “It’s beautiful, and I can’t imagine it was easy for you to even have this made.”

You made a jest in order to keep yourself from crying.

Benji laughed lightly. “Aye. It nearly killed me to spend coin on that ugly red stag, but I think the back of it makes up for it. Look.”

He gestured for you to flip the necklace over and when you did, you discovered that it was double-sided. On the front, the sigil of house Bracken was carved, unassuming to anyone who saw it. But on the back…

You ran your fingers over the weirwood tree surrounded by ravens and lightly gasped. It was the sigil of House Blackwood, the symbol that belonged to the man you loved.

In tiny letters, barely visible unless you squinted, the initials B.B were engraved in one of the ravens.

Benjicot Blackwood.

“Oh. It’s beautiful Benji. Thank you,” You said again, your voice thick with emotion as you saw it. This time, you weren’t able to keep the tears from your eyes, one of them falling down your cheek as you sniffled.

Gently, Benji reached to your face and wiped it away. He smiled lightly and gestured for you to turn around. Taking the necklace from your hands, he then unclasped it and gently placed it around your neck.

When he did, he flipped it so that the symbol of House Blackwood showed instead.

“There. Just as it belongs,” He said.

Sniffling lightly, you allowed him to run his fingers over it, Benji placing soft kisses on your neck before turning you around.

When you did, you immediately planted your lips upon his, unable to resist it any longer.

You could tell that Benji was taken by surprise by the sudden action, but he quickly wasted no time in kissing you back. He matched the amount of passion in your kiss, greedily drinking in the taste of you after being starved for so long.

Not long after, what started as a soft, slow kiss turned into something more. The desperation that you both felt after not seeing each other for a while pooled over, and soon enough you found yourself tugging on his hair, wanting something more.

Benji clearly felt the same as he began to lead you towards the bed.

Gently, he laid you down on the soft covers and your heart pounded as he leaned over you.

Once more, his lips met yours in a swift kiss but this time it was accompanied by roaming hands.

You felt him touching you everywhere that he could, Benji feeling all of the parts that he missed.

His hands lingered on your waist and then your chest, fingers dancing over the material that covered your breasts. It was clear that just feeling you over your clothing wasn’t enough. He wanted more, and so you weren’t surprised when he broke the kiss, eyes hungry as he tugged on the yellow garb.

“Take this off,” He demanded softly, his dark eyes wild with lust.

Quickly, you sat up and with his assistance was able to get it off. Benji struggled a little bit when it came to your corset, resulting in your lover getting impatient.

Regrettably, this meant that you would have to explain to your Septa why the strings looked like they had been cut with a knife. A little annoyance pooled inside of you at the inconvenience, but you tried not to think about that as you stared at him, anxious to know what he wanted next.

“Turn around,” Benji then rasped, taking no time to drink in your naked body. “I want you on your knees, ass in the air.”

Despite his filthy words, his tone was oddly soft. Desire pooled in your core as you obediently listened, eager for whatever it was he had planned for you. You laid your head on your soft pillow, eyes fluttering shut as you felt the bed dip behind you.

You sighed as Benji kneeled in between your legs. In an instant, your felt his calloused hands roaming over your body, trailing all the way from the small of your back to the center of your core. Gently, his padded fingers traced your slick folds, eliciting a moan from you when they brushed over your clit.

“Fuck, how I’ve missed this.”

You said nothing as his fingers continued to tease your clit, too busy panting at the sensation.

It had been too long, you noted, since you had felt your lovers’ touch.

The more that tensions between your houses grew, the less time that you had to spend with Benji. It was too risky to be seen anywhere near Blackwood territory and your father had doubled the guards, making it nearly impossible to sneak out. Your meetings had been so few as of late, leaving you craving his touch like no other.

Eagerly, you wanted to take advantage of this opportunity, moaning when Benji sank a digit into your tight cunt. You cursed softly as he began to pump in and out, loving the way he curled them inside of you to reach your pleasure spots.

It seemed that your time apart did nothing to impact Benji’s memory. He still remembered exactly how to make you come undone, adding more and more digits until your cunt was stuffed.

The more fingers that he added, the louder you moaned. Pleasure that you had not experienced in weeks quickly began to cloud your senses, making you forget that you were supposed to be quiet in case anyone overheard you.

You could only imagine the disaster that would ensue if Benjicot Blackwood was discovered knuckle-deep inside of Lord Bracken’s daughter. Making her come undone on his fingers, slowly but surely, and whispering the filthiest of words in her ear.

You imagined that the aftermath wouldn’t be pretty, but alas all of those thoughts and worries faded away the minute you felt Benji kneel down, attaching his mouth to your cunt.

Any previous thoughts that you had were gone—replaced by muffled moans and incoherent blabber.

You whimpered as you felt Benji’s tongue lapping at your folds, eating your cunt like he was a man starved.

You felt him sucking on your clit, taking the bud into his mouth just as his index and middle finger curled against the right spot.

The combined pleasure had you gasping out, pillow forgotten as strangled cries left your lips.

Benji could feel your cunt tightening around his fingers and he smirked, coaxing you through your orgasm as you moaned and withered under him.

It took all he had to hold you down, using his free hand to keep your cunt firmly pressed against him. He refused to let up his assault until he could taste you on his tongue, the sweetness of your juices making him groan as well.

When he finally pulled away and released you from his hold, you managed to weakly look behind you and see him grinning. Benji licked his fingers, his face shiny with your arousal as he met your eyes.

“Hmm. So fuckin’ sweet. You want to taste, raven?”

Meekly you nodded, your face and your core burning at the nickname. Benji smiled as he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips while he grinded into you.

You could feel his cock hard as stone poking against your thighs. The thought of him being inside of you after so long briefly made you loose the ability to breathe as excitement flooded your veins.

The action allowed for Benji to slip his tongue in your mouth, kissing you sloppily for a moment before reluctantly pulling away.

His wild eyes were dark with lust as he fiddled with his own clothing, loosening his trousers so that his cock could spring free.

You felt your mouth water as you watched him stroke himself for a moment, spurts of preseed dripping down the base.

Benji let a hand roam over your back and gently used it to push you down, spreading your legs so that he could settle in between them.

With your back arched and your face pressed firmly against the pillow once again, he teased you by dragging his cock along your folds and then, he pushed in.

Together, you both let out a whine as Benji’s cock sank inside of you, your lover letting out a swear as you gripped him tight.

It had been a while since the two of you had sex, and it was evident in the way your legs trembled, your cunt straining to take him as he sank deeper.

You let out another whine, reaching behind you for something to grip. Luckily Benji seemed to get the message clear enough, and quickly he intertwined your fingers together.

Once he was buried inside of you to the hilt, he stilled for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Light kisses were peppered against your back as he leaned over you, holding you as close as possible before his hips began to move.

In a slow rhythm, he dragged his cock in and out as if to savor the moment.

As his hips snapped against yours and sent jolts of ecstasy through your body, your moans slowly started to combine.

You had forgotten how much you missed this. You had forgotten how much you missed him. Loneliness was awful but often times it was easy to get accustomed to it. After all, it’s what you signed up for when you took a Blackwood for your lover.

You expected to go days, weeks, or even months without seeing Benji. So when he was here, you did all you could to savor him before he had to leave again.

Every breath, every groan, and every whisper of encouragement was committed to memory. Every touch, every kiss cherished.

You relished in the way Benji’s cock felt against your walls, squeezing him as if it would somehow help you remember how it felt.

A small curse left his lips as you did, Benji leaning down to suck a love bite on your skin.

As his teeth grazed your neck, you groaned as he somehow managed to find both of your sweet spots.

“That’s it. That’s it. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Benji praised you as you began to fuck yourself on his cock, throwing your hips back and meeting his trusts. Your moans combined together as the pace sped up, the sound of heavy breathing quickly filling the room.

After a moment, you felt his weight shift off of your body as Benji opted to get back on his knees. He used his hands to keep your hips steady, pushing down on the small of your back to keep it arched.

With this new angle, he was able to drive into you quicker and repeatedly hit your sweet spot. Curses left his lips as you began to tremble around him, his own orgasm approaching at the same time as yours.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You gripped the sheets tightly as obscenities left his mouth, feeling Benji quickly pull out of you just as your peak washed over you.

Hot spurts of his seed coated your back, Benji spilling himself onto your skin before finishing you off with his fingers.

The absence of his cock was most disappointing, but by the time you came down from your high you barely noticed.

You were too busy in a state of bliss, turning around to capture Benji in a kiss before shakily pulling away.

“Are you alright, my love?” He asked immediately, panting heavily as he collapsed next to you.

Sometimes, it amazed you how quickly he could change. One moment Benji was shy and sweet, giving you the most beautiful necklace for your nameday. And then the next he was making you cum, whispering the dirtiest things in your ear and fucking you so good that you saw stars.

Now, he had switched again, his soft side back on display as he held you in his arms.

He was careful enough not to cum inside of you and—much to your displeasure—had used your fancy yellow dress to wipe up his seed.

You suspected that he was too pleased by the action, but you opted not to say anything about it. Instead, you merely disregarded the dress and chose to cuddle in his arms, trying to soak the last remaining moments you had.

“Of course I’m alright. It is my nameday and I’ve just received the best gift of the night,” You replied after some pause.

You knew him well enough that you could practically hear the smirk appear on his face.

“What? The sex?” Benji asked cheekily, to which you playfully elbowed him.

“No you fool!” You giggled as you knew that was exactly what he was going to say. “The necklace! The necklace you risked life and limb to deliver to me personally!”

You rolled your eyes as Benji began to laugh behind you, the cheerful sound echoing through your chambers.

“Right, right. That is what I risked life and limb for,” He said innocently.

You didn’t have the energy to do anything expect roll your eyes again. You swore he was so stupid sometimes. From sneaking into enemy territory to making silly little jests, your Benji sure was a character to be reckoned with.

But, that was exactly what you loved about him.

Sighing softly, you shook your head and listened to the sound of his breathing. It remained steady behind you as Benji slowly relaxed, settling in your bed like he was simply at home.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was falling sleep. His body was certainly still enough to think so, but you knew as well as he did that he couldn’t stay here.

The party downstairs was slowly dying down. If you listened close enough, you could hear the final songs planned for the night dwindling down, and you knew pretty soon someone was going to come for you.

Benji couldn’t be here when they did.

Your father was probably already angry enough at your lack of presence. If he ever discovered the reason why you had so suddenly disappeared then he would have your head—Benji’s too.

And as much you loved lying in his arms, feeling the warmth and the love radiating from his body, you loved seeing Benji alive much more.

So, sure enough, as the final notes on the final songs began to play, he stood up.

“Well, I suppose that’s my cue to take leave, then.”

Benji smiled sadly as he began to gather his clothes, redressing while you watched him with despair. The sheets that were wrapped loosely around you began to fall as you stood as well, walking over to him just as he readjusted his dagger.

“Do you promise to come visit me soon?” You asked him anxiously.

Slowly, Benji began to nod. He knew as well as you did that soon was debatable. Tensions were at all time high as whispers of war breaking out in the Kingdom spread. They added to the already strained relations between your houses.

Still though, Benji could not bare to see your disappointment. He didn’t want to leave on a bad note, either, so he settled for an unserious answer to ease the situation.

“If your father doesn’t replace his guards any time soon then I’ll be able to visit you any time you’d like,” He chuckled.

He was met by a small giggle that had his heart smiling with joy. Softly, you gripped his hand, savoring his touch as you knew that it would be the last time for a while.

“Stay safe out there, Blackwood,” You told him softly. “Don’t get into any trouble and for Seven’s sake, leave the assize stones alone. Make sure that you come back to me, you hear?”

Your tone was playful, but he knew that you were being as serious as a dead man.

Briefly, his lips twitched a little as he fought the urge to tell you that it was your family that messes with the stones. But ultimately, he agreed.

“I will. I promise,” Benji said sincerely.

A soft kiss was then planted on your lips, you and Benji holding onto each other for one last time. When you pulled away, a sigh of disappointment left your lips as you watched him walk away.

Closing your eyes, you decided to count his footsteps until he reached the door.

When you got to ten, you heard the door open. And one last time, Benji called out to you.

“Oh. And Bracken?”

“Hmm?”

You opened your eyes to see that familiar goofy smile, his eyes shining as he looked at you.

“I almost forgot to tell you, but happy nameday, my love. I do hope that this was a good one,” Benji laughed.

And with that, he closed the door, leaving you smiling and shaking your head behind him.

That fool. What one earth am I going to do with you, Benjicot Blackwood?

[misaerabl]

Glitters And Cigarettes

CONTENT: wc...6.9k ✦ neighbor ellie, loser ellie, hyperfemme reader, smoking, oral sex (e!receiving), fingering (r! receiving) SUMMARY: Ellie was a bit of a mess—a mismatched, cigarette-smoking loner who lived in the shadow of her dazzling neighbor. You were her opposite in every way: confident, kind, and wrapped in glittery, pink perfection that seemed to light up the world around you. Ellie admired you quietly, watching from a distance, captivated by the way you carried yourself as though life were your stage. You were everything she wasn’t and everything she longed for, a supernova she could only dream of reaching but never dared to touch.

Ellie leaned against the cracked railing of her apartment balcony, the stub of a cigarette dangling from her fingers. The neighborhood buzzed faintly below her—a car alarm, the hum of a distant radio, and the occasional bark of a stray dog. She wasn’t really paying attention, though. Her eyes were fixed on the apartment beside hers, on you.

You stood on your balcony, elbows resting on the pink-painted railing as you stared up at the stars. Ellie didn’t even realize she’d been holding her breath until you shifted, the sequins of your skirt catching the faint glow of a streetlamp.

You looked like a daydream, all soft curves and shimmering light, and Ellie—well, Ellie was the kind of girl who watched from the sidelines. Always had been. She scratched the back of her neck, letting out a sharp breath through her teeth.

“Get it together,” she muttered to herself, flicking ash into the dark. But she didn’t look away. Couldn’t.

It was always like this. Seeing you was a daily ritual she couldn’t break, even if she wanted to. And tonight? Tonight was no different. You turned slightly, leaning over the railing, and Ellie caught sight of the small smile tugging at your lips. It wasn’t meant for her—it never was—but she liked to pretend it was anyway.

You waved suddenly, and Ellie froze.

“You okay over there, neighbor?” Your voice carried across the narrow gap between your balconies, soft and teasing.

Ellie almost choked. She hadn’t expected you to notice her lurking, let alone talk to her. She fumbled with her cigarette, nearly dropping it as she straightened. “Uh—yeah, I’m good. You?”

“I’m great,” you said, your grin widening. “You look like you’re having an existential crisis over there.”

Ellie rubbed the back of her neck, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous pastime,” you teased. You rested your chin in your hand, your gaze locking on hers. “What are you thinking about?”

Ellie blinked. You. That’s what she wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat. She shrugged instead, stuffing her free hand into her hoodie pocket. “Nothing important.”

“Well,” you said, leaning a little closer, “let me know if you figure it out. I’d love to know what keeps you up at night.”

Ellie laughed, a quiet, awkward sound, and you smiled at her like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like you hadn’t just turned her insides upside down.

“Goodnight, Ellie,” you called, slipping back into your apartment with a little wave.

Ellie stood there for a long time after, cigarette forgotten, heart pounding against her ribs. You knew her name.

The day Ellie’s life shifted was like any other. She’d slept through her alarm, thrown on the first clothes she could find—a wrinkled band tee and some paint-streaked jeans—and stumbled out her door with her skateboard under one arm and her bag slung over her shoulder.

You were in the hallway, standing in front of your door with your phone in one hand and a drink in the other. Ellie almost tripped over her own feet when she saw you, your pink crop top catching the light as if it had been designed to blind her specifically.

“Hey, Ellie!” you called out, bright and casual, as if it wasn’t the first time you’d said her name.

Her brain short-circuited for a second. You know my name?

“Oh, uh, hey,” she managed, her voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat and tried again. “What’s up?”

You tilted your head, giving her that curious smile that always made her chest ache. “Not much. My coffee machine broke again, so I’m heading to that café down the street. Wanna come with?”

Ellie blinked. She glanced around, certain you must’ve been talking to someone else, but it was just the two of you in the hallway.

“Uh…” Her mouth opened and closed uselessly for a moment. “You’re asking me?”

You laughed softly, the sound warm and effortless. “Yeah, why not? You like coffee, right? Or tea? Or... whatever they have?”

Ellie scrambled to think of a reason to say no, but she couldn’t come up with one. “Yeah, sure. I mean, I was totally gonna grab coffee anyway.” Lie, she thought. But you didn’t seem to notice.

“Great!” you said, your grin widening. “Let me grab my bag, and we can go.”

As you ducked back into your apartment, Ellie leaned against the wall, clutching her skateboard like a lifeline. This had to be some kind of prank, right? People like you didn’t just... invite people like her out for coffee.

And yet, here you were, reemerging with your sparkly purse slung over your shoulder and a soft hum in your throat as you locked your door.

“Ready?” you asked.

Ellie nodded, pushing herself off the wall. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

As the two of you walked down the hallway together, Ellie tried to focus on anything but the way your perfume lingered in the air between you. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t just admiring you from a distance. She was in your orbit now, close enough to feel the warmth of your star.

And Ellie wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

The café was buzzing when you and Ellie arrived, but you didn’t seem to mind. You breezed past the crowded tables and long line like you owned the place, flashing Ellie a quick grin over your shoulder. She followed you hesitantly, her skateboard tucked awkwardly under her arm as she glanced around, suddenly aware of how out of place she felt.

You ordered first, something colorful and sweet, of course, and when Ellie stepped up to the counter, she hesitated. She didn’t have the cash for anything fancy, and she wasn’t about to embarrass herself by asking.

“Just a black coffee,” she mumbled, glancing down at her sneakers.

The barista nodded, but before they could punch it in, you cut in with a soft laugh. “Oh, come on, Ellie. Live a little.”

Ellie’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “What?”

“Get something fun,” you insisted, your voice light but insistent. You leaned against the counter, close enough that Ellie caught the faint scent of your perfume again, and smiled at her like it was the easiest thing in the world. “It’s on me.”

“Oh, no, I can’t—”

“Ellie,” you interrupted gently, tilting your head. “It’s coffee. Let me do something nice for you, okay?”

She swallowed, her throat dry. Your voice was soft, your tone casual, but there was something about the way you said her name that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Uh… sure,” she said finally, glancing back at the menu. “I’ll, uh, have whatever you’re having.”

The barista nodded and rang it up, and you handed over your card without a second thought. Ellie felt like her brain had short-circuited. Was this what hanging out with you was like? Effortless generosity, like it was just a natural part of who you were?

You grabbed the drinks when they were ready and led Ellie to a small table near the back, sliding into the seat across from her.

“So,” you said, your smile as warm as the coffee in your hand. “What’s the deal with you, Ellie?”

“The deal?”

“Yeah. You’re always so quiet. Mysterious.” You leaned in slightly, your elbows resting on the table. “It’s kind of cute, actually.”

Ellie froze. The word cute hung in the air between you, and she swore her heart was trying to claw its way out of her chest.

“Uh, I’m not that mysterious,” she said finally, trying to downplay the warmth rising in her cheeks.

“Oh, really?” you teased, taking a slow sip of your drink. “Then what’s your deal, neighbor? What do you do for fun? What do you think about when you’re smoking on your balcony late at night?”

Ellie nearly choked on her coffee. You’d noticed that?

“Nothing interesting,” she said quickly, rubbing the back of her neck.

You gave her a knowing look, your lips curving into a small smirk. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

The conversation flowed after that, and before Ellie realized it, an hour had passed. The café had emptied out a bit, the background noise fading into a quiet hum, and you leaned back in your chair, looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Hey,” you said suddenly, your tone light. “You want to come over? I was thinking of putting on a movie. Could use the company.”

Ellie’s heart stopped. You were inviting her over. To your place. Where you lived. But it was still morning, right? No, wait—whatever, it didn't matter.

“Uh—yeah,” she said, trying to sound casual despite the way her voice cracked. “Yeah, sure. Sounds cool.”

You grinned, standing up and grabbing your cup. “Great. Let’s go.”

Ellie followed you out of the café, her mind spinning. This wasn’t just a neighborly gesture, was it? No one invited their neighbor over for a movie unless…

She swallowed hard. No, she was reading into it. You were just being nice. That was all.

Right?

The walk back to your apartment was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. You filled the silence with little comments about the neighborhood and the café, and Ellie nodded along, her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets to keep them from fidgeting.

Her mind was a mess of half-formed thoughts and spiraling possibilities. She’d spent months watching you from afar, and now you were casually inviting her into your world like it was nothing.

When you reached your door, you unlocked it with an easy flick of your wrist and pushed it open, stepping aside to let Ellie in first.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you said with a laugh, motioning toward the small but cozy living room. The walls were dotted with fairy lights, and the coffee table was cluttered with magazines, books, and a bowl of half-melted candles. It looked exactly like Ellie imagined it would—soft, warm, and completely you.

She stepped inside cautiously, her skateboard still clutched tightly under one arm.

“You can leave that by the door,” you said, motioning toward her skateboard. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Ellie nodded and set it down, her fingers brushing nervously against her jeans. She sat awkwardly on the edge of your couch, her back ramrod straight.

You disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, returning with two glasses of water. You handed one to Ellie, then plopped down beside her, your legs tucked up under you as you took a sip.

“So,” you said, turning slightly to face her. “What kind of movies are you into?”

Ellie blinked, gripping her glass like a lifeline. “Uh, I don’t know. I’m not picky.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Come on, everyone has a favorite.”

“Okay, fine,” she muttered, glancing down at her glass. “I like action stuff. Or, like, those cheesy ‘90s sci-fi movies.”

Your eyes lit up, and you laughed softly. “Cheesy sci-fi? I didn’t peg you for the nostalgic type.”

Ellie shrugged, her cheeks flushing. “I guess I like stuff that doesn’t take itself too seriously.”

You smiled at that, your gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “I like that,” you said softly, leaning just a little closer.

Ellie’s breath hitched.

“So, tell me,” you continued, your tone light but teasing. “Is this the most exciting thing you’ve done in a while? Or do you have a secret life I don’t know about?”

Ellie smirked, grateful for the chance to deflect. “Oh, yeah. Totally. My life’s a non-stop thrill ride.”

You laughed, and the sound sent a warm, electric buzz through Ellie’s chest.

“Well,” you said, setting your glass on the table, “I’m glad I could add a little excitement to your day.”

Ellie’s gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, she thought she saw something flicker in your eyes—something that made her stomach flip.

“Me too,” she admitted, her voice quieter than she intended.

Your smile softened, and you tilted your head slightly. “You’re fun to talk to, Ellie. I’m glad we did this.”

Ellie swallowed hard, her grip tightening on her glass. She was sure you could hear her heart hammering in her chest, but you didn’t seem to notice—or maybe you did, and you just didn’t care.

“Want to pick the movie?” you asked, breaking the tension with an easy grin.

“Uh, sure,” Ellie mumbled, grateful for the distraction.

As you handed her the remote, your fingers brushed hers briefly, and Ellie’s pulse skyrocketed. She glanced at you, but you were already leaning back against the couch, your expression unreadable but relaxed.

Maybe this was all just casual for you. But for Ellie, it felt like standing on the edge of something she didn’t fully understand, her heart caught somewhere between hope and terror.

Ellie scrolled through the options on your streaming platform, pretending to be engrossed in picking a movie. In reality, her thoughts were racing. Sitting here next to you, in your soft, glowing space, felt surreal. You sipped your water slowly, completely at ease, while Ellie fought to keep her hands steady.

"How about this one?" Ellie asked, settling on some over-the-top alien invasion movie from the ‘90s.

“Perfect choice,” you said, scooting closer to grab a blanket from the armrest. You tossed it over both your laps, and Ellie tensed for half a second before forcing herself to relax.

The movie played, but Ellie barely noticed. She was too aware of you—how close you were, how your perfume seemed stronger here, how you laughed at the ridiculous dialogue.

At one point, you nudged her lightly with your elbow. “You’re awfully quiet. Are you actually watching, or did I bore you to death already?”

Ellie glanced at you, startled by the proximity. “What? No, I’m watching. It’s… cool.”

Your lips quirked up in a teasing smile. “Sure you are.”

She tried to focus after that, but the movie eventually ended, and the reality of being in your apartment settled back over her like a weight. You stretched your arms above your head as the credits rolled, the hem of your top lifting slightly, exposing a sliver of skin. Ellie glanced away so fast she almost gave herself whiplash.

“Well,” you said, standing and collecting the empty glasses. “That was fun. You’ve got great taste in movies, Ellie.”

“Uh, thanks,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck.

When you returned from the kitchen, you lingered near the couch, a thoughtful look on your face. “Hey,” you said suddenly, your voice casual but carrying an undercurrent of excitement. “What are you doing tonight?”

Ellie blinked up at you. “Tonight?”

“Yeah.” You shifted your weight, your smile turning playful. “A few of my friends and I are going out to this club downtown. You should come with us.”

Ellie stared, her brain short-circuiting. “I don’t think… I mean, I’m not really a club person.”

“Oh, come on.” You flopped back onto the couch beside her, close enough that your knee brushed hers. “You don’t have to dance or anything if you don’t want to. Just hang out, meet some new people. I think my friends are really going to like you.”

Her stomach flipped. “You… you do?”

“Of course,” you said, tilting your head to study her. “You’re fun, Ellie. And besides…” Your smile turned sly. “I think it’s about time you had a little more excitement in your life. Don’t you?”

Ellie hesitated, torn between her natural instinct to retreat and the magnetic pull of your invitation. You wanted her to come. You thought your friends would like her. And as terrifying as the idea was, there was also a thrill buried deep in her chest—a tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could belong in your world, even for a night.

“Okay,” she said finally, her voice quiet but steady. “I’ll go.”

Your grin lit up the room. “Great! It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Ellie nodded, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing. For once, she wasn’t just watching from the sidelines. She was stepping into your orbit, even if it was only for one night.

The sun had long set by the time Ellie knocked on your door, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain you’d hear it. She had debated what to wear for what felt like hours, finally settling on her usual casual look—fitted black jeans, a vintage band tee, and her trusty beat-up sneakers. She tugged nervously at her jacket, wondering if she’d dressed too plain.

Then you opened the door.

Ellie froze.

You stood there, a vision of confidence and sparkle, dressed in pink from head to toe. Your rhinestone-studded pencil skirt caught the hallway light, glittering with every tiny shift of your body. The fur tube top hugged your figure, while the cropped jacket added a playful touch. And the gogo boots? Ellie thought she might combust on the spot.

“Well?” you asked, striking a playful pose. “What do you think?”

Ellie’s mouth opened and closed uselessly before she managed to blurt out, “You look… wow.”

You laughed, a sound that felt like warm honey in her ears. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You definitely should,” Ellie said, her voice quieter this time. She couldn’t take her eyes off you.

You grabbed a small clutch from the table by the door and gestured for her to follow. “Come on, my friends are probably already at the club. But first, we’re taking a selfie—can’t let this outfit go undocumented.”

Before Ellie could protest, you pulled out your phone and leaned in close, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Your perfume was intoxicating, and Ellie barely managed to smile as you snapped the photo.

“There,” you said, inspecting the picture. “Perfect.”

Ellie wasn’t sure she’d ever looked as good as she did standing next to you.

The club was loud, packed with people, and bathed in neon lights that shifted between deep purples and electric blues. Ellie stayed close to you, her senses overwhelmed by the thrum of bass and the press of bodies.

Your friends greeted you with a chorus of cheers, pulling you into hugs and complimenting your outfit. Ellie hovered awkwardly at the edge of the group, feeling distinctly out of place.

“And who’s this?” one of your friends asked, her gaze sliding to Ellie with a curious smile.

“This,” you said, wrapping an arm around Ellie’s shoulders again, “is Ellie. My super cool neighbor.”

Ellie gave a small wave, muttering, “Hey,” under her breath.

“She’s adorable,” another friend said, and Ellie’s cheeks flushed crimson.

“Right?” you agreed, grinning at her. “I told you you’d like her.”

Ellie felt her heart stutter at your words.

You led her to the bar, ordering drinks for both of you before leaning close to speak over the music. “You okay?”

Ellie nodded, though her hands were clenched tightly around her glass. “Yeah. This is just… a lot.”

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “You’re doing great. Just stick with me.”

Ellie stared at you, captivated by how effortlessly you seemed to belong in this space. She felt clumsy and out of place, but somehow, when you looked at her like that, it didn’t seem to matter as much.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the dance floor. “One song. Humor me.”

Ellie’s protests were swallowed by the music as you led her into the throng of moving bodies. The heat, the lights, the closeness of you—it was overwhelming, but it was you, and that made it okay.

You danced with an easy grace, your skirt shimmering under the lights. Ellie swayed awkwardly at first, but then your hands found hers, tugging her closer, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“See?” you said, your voice barely audible over the music. “You’re not half bad.”

Ellie laughed, a sound that felt foreign and freeing all at once. Maybe, just for tonight, she could be part of your world.

The night outside the club was warm, the city alive with sounds of distant laughter and honking taxis. You stood with Ellie as your friends piled into a cab, their energy still buzzing from the night. You leaned into the car window, giving them a dramatic wave goodbye.

“Text me when you get home!” you called, your words slightly slurred from the cocktails you’d had earlier.

They shouted their farewells, and the cab pulled away, leaving you and Ellie standing on the curb. You turned to her, still riding the high of the night, your cheeks flushed and your smile bright.

“That was fun, huh?” you said, swaying slightly on your heels.

Ellie gave you a small smile, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.”

You laughed. “Not bad? You were dancing like nobody’s business back there.”

She ducked her head, her cheeks reddening. “Only because you made me.”

“Well, you were good at it,” you teased. “Better than you give yourself credit for.”

Ellie mumbled something under her breath, her grin barely hidden.

“Anyway,” you said, stretching your arms above your head, “we should probably head back too. It’s late, and—”

“Hey there,” a voice interrupted.

You turned to see a tall girl approaching, her confidence palpable. She had long, layered curls that framed her face, a casual smirk playing on her lips. Her dark eyes scanned you up and down, lingering just a bit too long.

“You were killing it in there,” the girl said, her gaze locking onto yours.

“Had to come out and say hi before you disappeared into the night.”

Ellie stiffened beside you, her shoulders straightening as she watched the exchange.

“Oh, thanks,” you said, your voice light, though you could feel Ellie’s eyes burning into the side of your face.

“I’m Mia,” the girl said, leaning in slightly. “And you are?”

“Taken,” you said, without missing a beat, looping your arm through Ellie’s.

Ellie nearly choked, her wide eyes darting to you in shock. She opened her mouth to say something but quickly shut it when you glanced at her with a knowing smile.

Mia blinked, her smirk faltering for a split second before she stepped back. “Oh, uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No harm done,” you said breezily. “But yeah, this one”—you gave Ellie’s arm a gentle squeeze—“is all mine.”

Mia nodded, clearly caught off guard. “Got it. Well, have a good night, then.”

She walked away, and the air felt suddenly lighter. You turned to Ellie, who was staring at you like you’d just grown a second head.

“What?” you asked, grinning.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Ellie stammered. “You just… told her I was… we were—”

“I felt like it,” you said, shrugging as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Ellie gawked at you. “You felt like it?”

“Yeah,” you said, stepping closer to her. “She wasn’t really my type anyway.”

Ellie swallowed, her mind spinning. “And… what is your type?”

You tilted your head, your grin softening. “Hmm. I don’t know. Maybe someone cute.”

Ellie blinked, her heart skipping several beats as you leaned in just slightly.

“Someone like you, maybe,” you added, your voice barely above a whisper.

And with that, you turned on your heel, calling over your shoulder, “Come on, let’s go before the cabs are all taken!”

Ellie stood frozen for a moment, her brain scrambling to catch up. Then, shaking herself out of it, she hurried after you, her face red and her thoughts louder than the city noise around her.

The elevator ride up to your apartment was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old machinery. Ellie stood beside you, her hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets, her mind still reeling from what you’d said outside the club. Every time she glanced at you—your confident stance, the lingering flush on your cheeks, the way your skirt caught the dim lighting—her heart thudded harder in her chest.

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, you stepped out with a playful spring in your step, glancing back at her with a grin. “You coming?”

Ellie blinked. “Uh, yeah.”

She followed you down the hallway, her stomach knotting when you stopped in front of your door. She fully expected you to wave her off and head inside, but instead, you unlocked it and held it open, tilting your head at her.

“Wanna come in for a bit?” you asked casually, like it wasn’t sending her brain into overdrive. “I’m not ready to call it a night yet.”

Ellie hesitated. “I mean… don’t you wanna, like, wind down or something? I don’t wanna bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you said with a shrug, stepping inside. “Come on, Ellie. Or are you afraid of hanging out alone with me?”

That last line hit her like a sucker punch, and she flushed, quickly stepping inside to avoid your teasing smirk.

Your apartment smelled faintly of vanilla and something floral—your perfume, maybe. It was cozy and warm, with soft lighting and little touches of pink scattered around, just like you. Ellie shoved her hands back into her pockets, unsure of where to stand or what to do with herself.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said, slipping off your cropped jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. The movement made your fur tube top shift slightly, and Ellie looked away quickly, her cheeks burning.

She hovered awkwardly near the couch until you sat down and patted the cushion beside you. “Don’t just stand there like a statue. Sit.”

Ellie obeyed, sinking into the plush couch and fiddling with the hem of her shirt. You turned to her, tucking one leg beneath you as you leaned closer.

“So, did you have fun tonight?” you asked, your voice softer now.

Ellie nodded, still avoiding your gaze. “Yeah. I mean, I’m not much of a club person, but it was fun… with you.”

Your smile widened at that, and you nudged her arm. “See? I told you my friends would like you. You’re not as much of a loner as you think.”

She let out a small laugh, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Maybe.”

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, talking about the night, the music, the people. Ellie found herself opening up more than she expected, her usual guardedness slipping away in your presence. You were magnetic, pulling her in without even trying.

At some point, your hand rested on her knee, a casual touch that sent electricity through her entire body. She froze, her mind spiraling as you leaned closer, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You know,” you said, your voice dropping just slightly, “you’re cute as hell when you’re all flustered like this.”

Ellie’s breath hitched, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure you could hear it. “I—uh…”

You didn’t wait for her to finish whatever garbled excuse she was trying to come up with. Instead, you closed the small gap between you, your lips brushing against hers.

Ellie stiffened for a fraction of a second before melting into the kiss, her hands hesitantly finding their way to your waist. She could taste the faint sweetness of your lip gloss, feel the warmth of your skin under her fingertips.

When you finally pulled back, your faces still inches apart, you smiled. “Told you,” you whispered, “cute as hell.”

Ellie stared at you, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. “I… you—”

You grinned, pressing a finger to her lips to shush her. “You don’t have to say anything. Just stay a little longer, okay?”

Ellie nodded, her mind still spinning but her heart full, as you leaned into her again.

The air between you and Ellie was thick with an unspoken tension, the kind that had been building since the moment you invited her inside. The kiss had sparked something, something neither of you could ignore.

You leaned in again, but this time your movements were more deliberate, your hands gently cupping her face as you kissed her slowly, deeply. Ellie's hands were still tentative, unsure of where to touch, but she let them trail down your side, feeling the softness of your skin beneath your shirt.

You pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, the corner of your lips curling into a teasing smile. "You're not as shy as I thought," you said, your voice low, the words laced with an edge of playfulness.

Ellie flushed, but the way she looked at you, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, told you everything you needed to know. She was drawn to you, pulled in by your warmth, by the way you made her feel alive in a way she'd never felt before.

"I'm not," Ellie said, voice barely above a whisper, her hands now resting on your hips, her fingers lightly brushing against the fabric of your skirt. "But you're making me feel... a little crazy."

You chuckled, running your thumb over her bottom lip, feeling it tremble slightly under your touch. "I like that," you murmured. "I like making you feel crazy."

You leaned in again, this time more forcefully, more insistent, and Ellie met you halfway. She kissed you back, her hands now gripping your waist, pulling you closer. You let her, your bodies aligning in a way that felt so natural, so right.

You broke the kiss to trail your lips down her neck, nipping at the delicate skin there, and Ellie gasped, her fingers tightening around you as she tilted her head back, giving you more access. She was melting beneath your touch, and it drove you wild.

"Ellie," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes again. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this." You watched her cheeks flush even deeper, her eyes darkening with desire.

She didn't say anything at first. Instead, she reached for your hand, guiding it down to her thigh, her touch soft but firm, urging you to move further. "I think I have an idea," she whispered, her breath shallow, her body pressed against yours.

You could feel her pulse under your fingertips, feel how close she was to breaking. You smiled against her skin, the heat between you building again as you kissed her, this time more urgently, more greedily. Ellie responded in kind, her hands roaming, her fingers tugging at your clothes as if she couldn't get enough of you.

And for once, neither of you cared about the consequences. All that mattered was the moment the two of you, together, lost in the feeling of something more than just attraction. Something deeper. Something that, for the first time in a long while, felt real.

When you finally pulled away, you grinned, breathless. "So, how do you feel now?" you asked, your voice a teasing whisper, your hands still holding her close.

Ellie smiled, her lips swollen, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Like I'm about to make a very bad decision," she said with a laugh, though there was no doubt in her voice that she didn't want to stop.

"Good," you whispered. "Because I'm not letting you go anytime soon."

And in that moment, Ellie knew she wouldn't want to escape if she could.

There you were, your face between her legs as you kissed her thighs gently. You looked up at her giving her a warm smile that made her melt even more. Oh, she was about to fucking lose it.

It was literally just yesterday night when you’d first spoken to her, and now here you were, between her legs, looking as beautiful as ever. To Ellie, you were nothing short of a goddess, an angel sent straight from heaven—except, maybe, one dipped in a soft, pink glow, shimmering with an almost otherworldly light.

You looked at her one last time, seeking permission, and she nodded softly, her hand gently resting on your head to give you a reassuring pat. 

Without hesitation, you leaned in, your lips brushing against her skin before you slowly let your tongue trace along her, savoring every moment. Both of you were lost in the moment, floating on cloud nine. You savored every inch of her as she arched her back, her hands hesitant at first but then gripping your hair gently. It was a sensation unlike any other, pure and intoxicating.

You tasted Ellie like she was the sweetest indulgence, each moment deliberate, each movement electrified. Your eyes remained fixed on her, captivated by the way her pleasure unfolded—a delicate mix of surrender and ecstasy, written in every arch of her back, every gasp that escaped her lips. It was mesmerizing, the kind of beauty that felt crafted just for you. The realization sent a spark through you, heat pooling low in your stomach as you pressed closer, craving more of her in every way.

Your tongue worked in an unhurried rhythm, alternating between delicate flicks and firm, insistent pulls that had Ellie arching against your touch. Her clit throbbed beneath your mouth, her taste rich and addictive, leaving a sheen on your lips that felt like a mark of devotion. She was intoxicating, each sound she made sinking into your skin, her body responding to you like it was meant for this. And later, when the moment passed and words found their way back, you’d tell her the truth—nothing else had ever felt this right.

Slowly, you pushed her shirt up, and she caught the edge between her teeth, baring her stomach to you with a quiet vulnerability that made your heart race. Her green eyes, shimmering with an unspoken intensity, locked onto yours, her gaze a blend of wonder and desire. She looked utterly breathtaking, a vision of raw beauty that left you spellbound. As your hands ventured higher, fingertips grazing the softness beneath her chest, her breath hitched, her body reacting to your touch like it had never known tenderness before. The way her eyes glistened—filled with trust, passion, and something deeper—made you feel like you were discovering the sacred.

Her mouth fell open, a loud, unrestrained moan spilling from her lips as her body tensed, the sound reverberating through you like a melody. Her shirt slipped back down, settling into place as she came undone, leaving her breathless and utterly radiant in the aftermath.

"God… you're so beautiful like this," you murmured, your voice soft but weighted with awe. Ellie’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her breath hitching at the unexpected compliment. She wasn’t used to being called beautiful—pretty, even less so. But coming from you, someone she secretly believed was the embodiment of perfection, the words struck her deeper than she could have ever imagined. She ducked her head slightly, her lips twitching into a shy smile as she tried to process the overwhelming warmth blooming in her chest.

"Do you want me to...?" she asked, her voice hesitant, laced with a mix of uncertainty and desire. Her gaze flickered to yours, searching for an answer.

You shook your head with a soft smile, your voice steady and warm. "I'm fine, Ellie. I just want to make you feel good."

But Ellie wasn’t fine with that. Not entirely. She wanted more than to just take; she wanted to show you, to give back, to make you feel the way you made her feel—wanted, cherished, undone.

Ellie shifted, sitting up on your couch with a newfound determination in her eyes. She reached out, her fingers curling slightly as she gestured for you to come closer. You moved toward her, and she let her hands trail along your sides, her touch reverent, as though she were memorizing every curve of you.

Her gaze lingered, soaking in every detail, and for a moment, she simply stared, awestruck. Then, with deliberate tenderness, she reached for the hem of your top, her fingers brushing against your skin as she began to lift it, her breath hitching like she was unwrapping something magical.

You smiled softly, a flicker of confidence dancing in your eyes as Ellie’s gaze lingered on your bare skin. Her lips parted slightly, her breath catching as though she were looking at something she could scarcely believe was real. You knew you looked good—better than good—and the way she was staring only confirmed it.

Her hands hovered for a moment, uncertain but yearning, and you reached out, gently guiding her touch to you. “It’s okay,” you murmured, your smile deepening. “I’m all yours.”

Something inside her broke free the moment the words left your lips: I’m yours. Ellie surged forward, her lips crashing into yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter. Her hands roamed over your chest, not shy, not hesitant—just desperate to feel, to claim.

She pushed you back, guiding you onto the couch as she hovered over you, her weight grounding you in the moment. Breaking the kiss, her lips found the curve of your neck, her breath warm and unsteady against your skin. She inhaled deeply, her nose brushing against your collarbone as though she could memorize your very essence.

“You’re perfect,” she whispered, the words muffled but heavy with conviction. To Ellie, everything about you—your touch, your scent, the way you looked at her like she was the only one who mattered—was nothing short of magic. And right now, this moment, with you beneath her and the world forgotten, felt utterly sacred.

"Can I go faster?" she asked, her voice laced with care. You nodded in response, a smile tugging at your lips as you felt her attention on you. You couldn’t help but appreciate how she made you feel so at ease. She was everything you’d ever hoped for—gentle, loving, but undeniably skilled in ways that took your breath away.

Her fingers pumped faster, curling and stretching you in ways that had you seeing stars. The couch beneath you shook as she picked up the pace, her movements becoming more frantic. “You're so perfect…” She panted, her breath hot against your ear.

Her free hand reached up to entwine with yours, removing them from her neck, and pinning it above your head as she continued to fill you with her touch. Her fingers moved faster, hitting spots inside you that made you arch your back and cry out. She could feel your nails digging into her arm, holding on for dear life. 

She smiled at your reaction, enjoying the way your body responded to every motion of her fingers. You were just perfect. That’s all she could describe you and this shared moment. You're making the most beautiful noises, her feather-light kisses along your neck… Her next movement pressed against your g-spot, making you shudder.

She found that spot inside you again, rubbing slowly as she curled her fingers upwards. You let out a guttural moan, your body tensing beneath hers as you tried to pull her hand closer. She chuckled softly, the vibrations against your sensitive flesh making you whimper.

Her smile widened mischievously as she heard your whimper. "Look at those pretty eyes rolling back..." She picked up the pace as she sought out that spot again. You thrashed beneath her, your nails raking across her tatted arm. You had always admired her tattooed arm from a distance, but now, being this close, you couldn’t help but notice the way the marks you left on her skin seemed to intertwine with the art on her arm. It was like a piece of her, forever etched in both ink and touch. You wished you could savor this moment forever.

Ellie grinned as she felt your body trembling beneath her, pushing you closer to the edge with each skilled stroke. "Almost there baby?" She whispered, her thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles.

Your whole world narrowed down to the feeling of her fingers inside you and her thumb on your clit. You felt like you were going to explode, your vision blurring as you screamed out in ecstasy. Your pussy clenched around her fingers, milking them for all they're worth as your orgasm crashes over you.

She purred, continuing to stroke through your release, drawing out your pleasure. You were a mess beneath her, your legs shaking and your nails having shredded her arm to ribbons. She smiled, pulling her hand out and admiring the way your essence coated her fingers.

"You okay?" she whispered, her voice soft like the caress of the night wind. She pulled you gently into her lap, your head resting on her chest, your hair tangling in her fingers.

"Never better, Ellie," you whispered back, a smile curving on your lips, the warmth of her touch wrapping around you like a blanket. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the rhythm of her heartbeat and the quiet, steady pulse of the moment.

In her arms, everything felt right. Her presence was a melody, calming your restless thoughts, making you feel like you belonged exactly where you were. The world, in that fleeting moment, was nothing but the two of you, suspended in time, untouched by anything but the softness of each other’s breath.

"You're perfect," she murmured, the words drifting between you like a secret, and you let them linger in the air, a promise that needed no reply.

For a while, there was only silence—beautiful and infinite, woven together by the bond you shared. And in that quiet, you realized you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[buckyalpine]

18 + That is your warning so stop reading. Imagine being an absolute slut for your bodyguard Bucky even though your very much so dating Steve.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you" Steve snarled, picking up his pace while you hiccupped, "You filthy fuckin' slut, you worked up and down on his cock didn't you, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you like this"

“But I love riding his dick daddy” You wailed while bouncing on Steve's cock, biting you lip, your eyes rolling back thinking about how Bucky stretched you open like a whore, splitting you in half. "I wan Bucky's cock" You sobbed, sounding needier than ever and it made Steve leak.

"Fuck sugar, that right? You're that much of a desperate slut, you want my best friends cock?"

"Uh-huh" you nodded, nearly going cross eyed, making an utter mess all over the dark blond curls at the base of Steve's cock. He didn't stop his harsh thrusts as the door clicked open, your body guard striding into the office, his cock already rock hard.

"Hey pretty girl" Bucky cooed, smirking at how cockdrunk you were while he rounded he corner of the desk to where you were splayed across Steve's lap where he sat in his office chair. He traced your pouty bottom lip before slipping his thumb into your mouth, humming in satisfaction at the way you sucked it, moaning around the metal digit.

"Go on, finish what I started" Steve nodded while you squeaked as Bucky picked up you up effortlessly off of Steve's cock, and tossing you over his shoulder.

"Need my cock, huh Bambi, that all?" Bucky's wide palm rubbed your sore ass where Steve had spanked you, turning over to place a quick kiss onto the hot skin before laying you down on the table. You let out a needy moan at the sound of his belt hitting the floor, so deep in subby space, spreading your legs extra wide as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock.

"Look at that, such a good girl, spreading her legs for me" Bucky leaned over to take a good look at you, your dazed expression and wiggling hips making his balls impossibly heavy. "Wanna show Steve how well you take my cock baby? Show him how I make you moan and cum, n'how I play with that cute little button between your legs?"

"Mph, Bucky please" You whined, pouting at the disappointed tsk Bucky made.

"That's not what you call me Bambi, c'mon, whose cock do you want, say it"

"Fuck me, Sergeant-OH-MY-GODD" You cried out as Bucky slammed into you, setting in a brutal pace without waring, your body bouncing against the desk as he gripped onto your hips.

"That's-it-good girl-good. fucking. girl" Bucky snarled through gritted teeth, slamming your body down onto his cock, his head thrown back, moving one hand to wrap around your neck. He was too enamored with you to notice the way Steve's hand was wrapped around his cock, working his swollen, silky tip, watching his pretty princess take his best friend like her life depended on it.

Bucky spat right onto your clit, rubbing tight circles around you with a feral look on his face feeling you squeeze around him, bending your thighs up till they hit your chest, hitting a deeper angle.

"Feel that? M'so deep in your pussy baby, s'fuckin' deep, can feel your little clit throbbing, it's all swollen huh Bambi, you're soaking my cock, make a mess all over it princess, it's all yours"

"Sergeant-gonna-I-" You couldn't forumalte words, tears streaming down your face and falling onto the desk under you, the band in your belly ready to snap-

"You gonna cum for my best friend babygirl?" Steve's focus was locked in at where Bucky was connected to you, watching his cock slam in and out of your tight cunt, stretching you wide open, his own cock growing impossibly harder, "Fuck, you're a dirty slut, I'm gonna-fuck m'cumming" Steve's voice was breathless, his chest heaving as he worked his cock faster, eyes rolling back as white streams of cream decorated his black shirt, nearly shooting to his beard. "Holy shit"

"BUCKY M'CU-UMINGG" You wailed, your back arching off the table, screaming with every muscle in your body pulled taught. You couldn't tell where your orgasm began or where it ended, unending waves of pleasure drowning you while Bucky began to chase his own.

"Cum for your Sergeant baby, that's it, such a good girl, you make my cock so hard Bambi, y'feel so good, not gonna last, shittt-HNG" Bucky let out a guttural moan, not giving a fuck that Steve was right there, pumping you full of his cum until his balls were empty and his cock was soft. He tucked himself back in his pants before removing his shirt to wipe you down and picking you up, letting you wrap yourself around him like a koala. Your boyfriend followed closely behind, smirking at the needy noise you made, checking to see that Steve was also coming for some post sex naps, sighing contently when you saw him following near by.

"Off to bed, Bambi"