#the marathon family... who is she.

[haveyouseenthisbalkanfilm]

[cuteniarose]

Me: *creates an OC*

Me: *heavily implies OC will meet a bad fate*

OC: *meets bad fate*

Me:

(Alternatively, I may have started it, but @katkastrofa enabled me and now I’m losing my mind)

[sp0o0kylights]

“Dustin isn’t coming.”

“What?” Eddie says, all frantic and jovial movements freezing instantly.

His eyes narrow on Lucas--the bearer of bad news. “Why?” 

“Family emergency.” 

Mike makes a face. “I saw his mom yesterday and she was fine, so is this a…?” 

He makes a gesture that is entirely incomprehensible to anyone who isn’t Sinclair and his terrifying girlfriend.

(At least, Eddie thinks Max is Lucas’s girlfriend this week. It got a little hard to keep up after the third break-up-make-up marathon, and he frankly, stopped bothering to try.

It helped that she barely spoke--The only time notable being when Eddie had mockingly asked Sinclair if he needed a cheerleader when she’d first sat in, upon which she’d asked Eddie if he needed new kneecaps with a look in her eye that said she was serious.)

Wheeler Jr.’s gesture however, made her put her book down.

“You think he’s having migraines again?” She not so much asked as demanded, which had Mike shrugging. 

“Dunno." Lucas says. "Dustin didn’t say.” 

“Gotta be, if he called Dustin.” Mike mutters, Lucas shuffling his papers about as he begins to set up for Hellfire. He was the last in the room, practically late, which Eddie had planned on harassing him for had he not announced Henderson’s absence. 

(Fucking freshmen. They just weren’t terrified of Eddie like they used to be.) 

 “Robin must be sick or something, otherwise he’d call her.”  Lucas finishes as he finally sits down. 

“Didn’t the Marching Band go on some trip?” Mike turns to address the rest of the table, and gets nods from Jeff and Gareth both. 

“Yeah they’re marching in some parade in Indianapolis.” Jeff confirms. 

“So his last resort was Dustin?” Max is getting that tone in her voice, the one that makes everyone at Hellfire very uncomfortable. “Typical.” 

She pushes away from the table, making a show of gathering up her things before rising easily to her feet.

Eddie trades looks with the elder Hellfire members as she makes her exit--the kind that says they’re all going to be talking about this later. 

They knew their freshmen had some weird obsession with the former King, of course, but Mayfield too?

What the hell was up with that guy?

At least Eddie thinks, right before things are once again shot to shit, they can go back to playing the game.

He can make it work this early into things, and if Henderson isn't’ a fan of what he’s about to do to the kid’s character in his absence, well. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be fucking absent then. 

“So what, Max, you're gonna go over there and make it worse?” Mike snorts. 

Fatal mistake.

Eddie almost strangles him for it, if only because it prolongs this entire unnecessary conversation. 

Max performs a military perfect heel turn, coming straight back for Wheeler Jr., which makes him right about fall out of his seat in panic. 

“What was that, Wheeler?” 

“I’m just saying--!” 

“We don’t know Steve’s having migraines.” Lucas reiterates, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s something else.” 

“Does Steve get migraines a lot?” Grant asks, because despite all appearances he’s a terrible gossip and gets sucked in far too easily.

Eddie throws a pencil at him for it. 

“Hel-looo, we have a game!?” He thunders, but unfortunately for him, precious Stevie-Weavies headache now has everyone’s attention. 

“Yeah, though he’s really good at pretending he doesn’t.” Lucas answers with a put upon sigh. 

“There’s a whole pattern--he ignores it until it gets super bad, then he has to call Robin or Dustin to come get him when he inevitably gets stranded at work or the like, grocery store.” 

“Well who else do you think he’d call?” Mike scoffs again. He does a lot of that, when discussing Harrington. “It’s not like his parents are--Ow, Max!” 

“Close your mouth before I close it for you.” She hisses and Mike, shockingly, does just that. 

To Eddie, she says; 

“Your ass isn’t any better, or did you forget I live across from you?” 

Eddie--who had an insult primed and ready--promptly shuts his mouth.

(Fucking! Asshole! Freshmen!) 

“Maybe I should go too.” Lucas says, hedging a look between his girlfriend and his DM. 

“No.” She snaps, pointing a finger at him.

 “If you go, then this idiot,” she flicks her finger to  Mike, “will go and then we really will make it worse. Stay here before your bichon frise has a fit about all his sheep abandoning him.”

Then she’s turning on her heel again, storming out. 

“What the hell’s a bichon frisé?” Gareth asks in the aftermath, frowning. 

“It’s a type of ahhhh--” Jeff clearly thinks better of the explanation, eyes sliding to Eddie.

Who’s scowling.

“I know what a bichon frisé is, Jeff.” He snaps. 

“I don’t.” Grant loudly complains. 

Jeff attempts to both calm Eddie and explain while Mike and Lucas spend far too many minutes looking after Max. 

“Enough!” Eddie howls, temper finally getting the best of him. “Are we playing or do you also need to go sit by the King’s bedside?”  

“Thank you,” Mike says, like he wasn’t a third of the entire problem. “Let’s play!”

They make it about ten entire minutes before getting knocked off track again. 

In fairness, not that Eddie would ever admit it--the second meltdown is his own fault.

xXx

Hellfire is Eddie’s domain. 

It’s one of the few places where he could relax without getting harassed or hounded, and having his freshmen--his!--abandon him for King Fucking Steve had set him off. 

So he’d made a few comments about it.

Maybe introduced an NPC who sounded suspiciously similar to Harrington, only to instantly kill him off. 

Made another couple of nasty comments. 

Who cares? It worked him through his snit rather nicely, and his boys all knew to leave him be.

Except, apparently, for Lucas. 

“Dude, would you lay off?”  The kid finally snaps, pencil slamming down on the table. 

Which is the most backbone-like thing anyone has ever heard Sinclair say, and he gets far more whistles for it than he should.

Eddie pins him in place with a glare. 

“What was that Sinclair?” He snarls, voice as menacing as he can make it.

(It’s pretty terrifying, he’s practiced quite a bit with it.) 

Sinclair flinches, but doesn’t back down. 

“I said lay off. Steve has migraines because of--” He stops, before seeming to come to a decision. “Because of me. He took a hit for me, and I owe him a life debt for it.” 

To Eddie, he says; “You get what those are, right?” 

Mike rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t just for you--”

“That time with Billy was!” Lucas is quick to snarl. “But you know what Mike, you’re right. It wasn’t just for me. He T-boned a car for all of us!” 

Sinclaire is on his feet now, which is the unfortunate moment that Eddie realizes he has once again lost control of the room. 

A situation he firmly blames on Steve Harrington, because he’s petty. 

“Or did you forget that part? That’s you, me, Will, Nancy and Jonathan right there! Nevermind the tunnel. Or the junkyard! 

“We had the junkyard handled--”

Lucas scoffs. 

“We absolutely did not.” 

“I don’t get why you’re all making such a big deal out of this. He’s the fighter. That’s what he does. That’s why we brought him to the tunnel.”

“You recall what happened at Starcourt, right?” Lucas challenges, furious. “You did see him after, right?” 

This, finally, seems to shut Mike up. 

“Shouldn’t you be mad at him for that?” He says after a moment, and the rest of Hellfire has completely put aside all actual gaming to watch this play out with a morbid sort of fascination. 

Eddie allows it, only because he’s trying to breathe the way Wayne taught him to before he loses it entirely and throws both of the idiot kids out of the drama room. 

“He pulled your sister into it.”

“Have you met Erica!? You can’t pull her into shit!” Lucas spits furiously. “That wasn’t D&D, Mike. It was the Upsi--real life.” 

Lucas is quick to correct himself, even in the heat of the moment--as all the kids are, like the entire school hasn’t clocked that they have some weird ass secret they’re terrible at hiding.

“And if we’re playing those games, then who pulled him into the tunnels? Who made him come to the junkyard?”

“Dustin.” Mike says snidely. 

“You don’t get to blame Dustin when Steve was the only person around.” 

“There were people around! They just weren’t people who--weren’t--who couldn’t--”

“Finish that sentence.” Lucas demands 

“Be trusted.” Mike spits out, like it hurts him. 

“Exactly.” 

“El went through way more than Steve ever has! El--”

“El was using her po--doing mage things! And also, she shouldn’t have had to go through all this shit either! We can’t rely on her to save the day every single time, Mike--and look at how hurt she gets!”

“She--”

“She hides it from you, you know. How bad she hurts. Cause she wants to put your feelings first.” 

“I--”

“Will does too.”  Is Lucas’s parting shot. His backpack is in his hands in a blink, papers and character figure shoved wildly into it, before he’s storming out the door in a poor mimicry of Mayfield.

“Harrington T-Boned a car?” Grant says, in the resounding silence. 

“That BMW of his hasn’t had a scratch on it--” Jeff says, with an inquisitive tilt to his head. 

“He didn’t use the Beamer.” Mike interrupts, angry and sulking. “Are we playing or not?”

“I’m gonna say not, given we are down two players.’ Eddie tells him through clenched teeth. 

“I’m going to be so mad if Steve doesn’t have a migraine.” Mike grumbles, as he begins packing up his stuff. 

The rest of Hellfire follow his lead, after one look at Eddie’s face convince the lot of them that it’s best to flee now, before Eddie unleashes all his pent up rage. 

“Not as mad as I’ll be, Wheeler.” Eddie promises darkly.

And it is a promise--because now, he’s going to follow all his stupid (sans Mike, who isn’t in his good graces either but at least stayed) freshmen--and go visit one fallen King.

If Harrington doesn’t have a headache now, he will when Eddie’s done with him.

[les4elliewilliams]

❝SHE’S A MANEATER!❞

LOSER!ELLIE ﾒ MEAN!READER

❝OH-OH HERE SHE COMES WATCH OUT, GIRL, SHE’LL CHEW YOU UP!❞

ᝰ.ᐟ ⌞SUMMARY⌝﹕After bumping into you on her first day of college, Ellie spends the entire year captivated by you from a distance. You're everything she could never be—popular, wealthy, and effortlessly alluring, with a perfect, disgustingly rich family to match. Convinced she didn’t stand a chance, Ellie resigns herself to watching from the sidelines. But when her best friend Dina suggests they work at a public pool for the summer, Ellie agrees, hoping to save up some money. What she never expected was to find you there, commanding the space with a magnetic, dangerous charm that pulls her in. Now, Ellie’s summer is about to take a turn she never saw coming, and she’s about to find out just how close she can get to you before it all falls apart.

✶.ᐟ ⌞THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS⌝﹕ approx 16k words⨾ bullying⨾ cursing⨾ use of alcohol and drugs⨾ angst⨾ reader being a bitch for no reason⨾ 18+ CONTENT⨾ cunnilingus (𝑒!receiving)⨾ semi-public sex ig?? (in the bathroom of their workplace)⨾ coworker!ellie⨾ dom!reader⨾ fem!reader⨾ player!reader x loser!ellie⨾ slapping⨾ jealousy issues??⨾ overstimulation⨾ ellie squirting (yumm)⨾ lmk if i missed anything!

.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞AUTHOR´S NOTE⌝﹕this series took me forever to finish and almost deleted it because i had no motivation:3 the whole thing was supposed to be a quick one shot but its too long for that, i fear. (around 40k words) so i decided im gonna split it in two and make a sequel (for those who care); proofread by @sapphichotmess (i love you sm)

#.ᐟ ⌞TAGLIST⌝﹕ @pick-me-up-im-scared @rew1nds @aouiaa [comment to be added!]

#.ᐟ ⌞CHAPTERS⌝ ↯

˗ˏˋ 𝕠𝕟𝕖 ⋆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ⋆ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ˎˊ˗

palestine masterpost ⋆ read this ⋆ daily clicks

Summer 2023, Santa Barbara.

23th of June.

The first year of college felt like it dragged on forever, with endless lectures, assignments, and late-night cram sessions that blurred into one exhausting marathon. But then, as if in the blink of an eye, it was over. Ellie packed up her dorm room, said her goodbyes, and headed home with the promise of a long, lazy summer stretching out before her.

The auburnette was a quiet introvert with a love for solitary activities, ready to kick back and relax. She loved this time of year—the bright, sunny days and the chilly, star-filled nights. The beach was her favorite place to unwind, where she could lose herself in the soothing rhythm of the waves crashing against the ancient shores and the feel of the sand between her toes. She loved soaking up the sun, letting its warmth seep into her freckled skin, and staying up late with her friends playing video games, adrenaline-pumping matches that promised to take all their sleepiness away, their laughter echoing into the early hours of the morning—or until Joel woke up to her yelling at random kids online and told her to turn it off, threatening to take all her consoles away.

But as the days melted into weeks, a sense of restlessness began to creep in. The once comforting routine now felt monotonous, and Ellie found herself craving something different, suddenly feeling unproductive. The pressure to change her routine was mounting, especially with Joel’s words ringing in her ears. He was dead serious when he told her she needed to stop being a lazy ass and start doing something with her life. He claimed that, by her age, he had already tried almost every job under the sun and didn’t want to see her wasting her days away.

At first, Ellie brushed off Joel's comments, but they lingered in the back of her mind, gnawing at her. Then, Dina chimed in, convincing her to join her and Jesse as lifeguards at the local pool. The idea seemed laughable to Ellie. She couldn’t imagine herself in such a role—standing on the pool deck, whistle in hand, ready to dive in at a moment's notice. But with nothing else on her plate and a growing desire to be productive, Ellie decided to give it a shot. 

What could possibly go wrong, after all?

What else did she have to do? Absolutely nothing. And she figured she could always quit if things were really that bad. No harm in trying, right?

With a mix of nervousness and excitement, the young girl signed up for the lifeguard training course. The first few days were grueling—learning CPR, mastering rescue techniques, and memorizing safety protocols. She quickly realized that she enjoyed the physical challenge and the sense of responsibility that came with the role. Plus, spending her days by the pool wasn’t too far off from her ideal summer.

After a week of rigorous training, Ellie had finally reached a level where she felt ready. However, her confidence faltered when she discovered you were also working there. Every time she beheld you, your ethereal and almost unreal presence left her breathless. Her heart raced wildly, and a lump formed in her throat that threatened to strangle her. She knew who you were but doubted you even knew she existed. You were stunning and popular, seemingly out of her league. She felt like a total loser, a nerd invisible to every girl on the planet, except for those weird and jerky dudes she couldn’t stand. Her feelings of inadequacy were overwhelming, and you sure made her question her own worth and existence. 

She saw you every day on campus, a sprawling green space bustling with students. You were always walking around with your group, a bunch of stylish individuals who cared a lot about their appearances, invariably decked out in expensive clothes. You were part of that clique, but she always felt like you were different somehow. Maybe it was how you looked at her on the first day of college when she accidentally bumped into you and made all your books drop to the floor.

Ellie remembered that moment vividly. The campus, with its towering oak trees and vibrant flower beds, had been buzzing with the energy of new beginnings. She had been rushing to her next class, preoccupied with a million different thoughts when she collided with you. Your books scattered across the walkway, and she dropped to her knees, frantically trying to gather them up while mumbling apologies. Your friends' disdainful looks made her cheeks burn with humiliation, but your reaction was entirely different. You crouched down, your fingers brushing against hers as you both reached for the same book, and you gave her a smile that was kind and understanding.

She couldn’t help but replay the moment in her mind, wondering if it had meant as much to you as it had to her. 

Jesse’s constant teasing didn’t help. He loved to remind her of her awkwardness, mimicking how she stumbled over her words and nearly fell on her face right in front of you.

And now, seeing you standing there, the auburnette felt that same nervous energy bubbling up again. Your red lifeguard uniform clung to your body like a second skin, making her heart perform a series of pathetic, acrobatic flips. She watched you from a distance, marveling at how effortlessly you moved, how you seemed to command attention without even trying. You were a natural leader, confident and composed, while Ellie felt like a bundle of nerves just trying to keep up. A small part of her that hoped she might get to know you better, to see if that smile you had given her on the first day was a glimpse of something more.

“Oh shiii- she works here too?” Ellie looked to her best friend Dina, her eyebrows raised in surprise as she observed your every move. You casually blowing your whistle at a group of kids playing fights with crumbs of bread stood out to her immediately, watching in fascination as you effortlessly kept the children in line.

“Yeah, ‘course she does.” Dina couldn't contain a small snort of laughter as she pulled on a vibrant red T-shirt over her red bikini, its vivacious color standing out against her tanned skin. “She does every year,” she shared, her voice tinged with a hint of amusement. But how could she know this when all she did was immerse herself in gaming, hanging out with friends, and getting high rather than seeking part-time work to earn extra cash like every other 18-year-old? 

She also found it perplexing that a wealthy individual like you would even bother working in the first place; after all, from what she had heard, you always got whatever you asked for from your father. She guessed that the only possible reasons you might have been working were to become more independent or to seek out something to occupy your time.

“Oh.” Her rosy pink lips formed a perfect 'o' shape, her surprise evident in how they parted. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered loudly to her friend. 

Dina's brow rose quizzically as she placed her hands on her hips. “Why, did you want to know?” Dina shot Ellie a doubtful look, the same disapproving glance she always gave her whenever Ellie expressed interest in a girl who ultimately turned out to be straight.

The redhead nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders, “No, but–” she was quick to cut her off before Ellie could come up with an excuse that wouldn't hold water. Her friend could read her like an open book, and she knew certainly what was going on just by witnessing the heart-shaped pupils of Ellie's eyes as they lingered on you from afar.

“–Nuh-uh. You’re just being a delusional lesbian again,” Dina called her out on it, and the freckled girl reacted almost dramatically, gasping at the brunette's accusation.

“Don’t give me that look,” she pointed a finger at Ellie, finger jabbing the air like a weapon of accusation. “You told me to stop you before you started falling for another straight girl, and that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. Calling you out on your shit.” Dina’s voice was firm and uncompromising, her words leaving no space for negotiation or debate. Her eyes, deep pools of golden-hued amber, narrowed into slits, fixed on her friend with a steely gaze. The young girl knew better than to argue with her best friend.

Deep down, Ellie knew Dina was right. Images of her previous “relationship” flashed through her mind—the heartbreak, the disappointment, the tears—all because some bi-curious girl had led her on, only to reject her in the end. Who was there to pick up the pieces and put her back together again? None other than Dina, of course. And Jesse, but he wasn’t that helpful.

The green-eyed girl crossed her arms over her chest and huffed in response, her frustration evident in her defensive body language. “But she smiled at me on the first day of college, remember? When I bumped into her and made her drop all her books?”

Dina rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh, shaking her head in disbelief, she truly couldn’t believe how clueless and naive her best friend could be at times, or maybe she just pretended to be dumb as fuck; Dina wasn’t sure. “Ellie, she was just being nice. That doesn’t mean she’s into you.” frustration colored her voice.

A sigh left the redhead’s lips, her gaze trailing back to you, unable to keep her eyes from checking you out. Seeing you sent her thoughts astray, her heart racing as she studied your features once more. “I know, I know. But a girl can dream, right?”

“Yeah, dream away. Just don’t get your hopes up too high. We’ve got a job to do, so stop daydreaming about unattainable girls and go get changed.” The black-haired girl demanded, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her arms hanging by her sides.

Ellie nodded, trying to push aside her feelings of infatuation. She knew Dina was right, but it was hard to ignore the fluttering in her chest every time her hazel eyes landed on you. 

The first day, Jesse showed the auburnette around, explaining all the rules she and everyone else had to follow—when to yell at people, when to blow the whistle, the regular stuff. Ellie wanted to talk to you, to introduce herself at the very least, considering you were colleagues now, but she didn’t have the guts.

How you walked around and carried yourself, it was almost as if you owned the place. You were so confident, and Ellie felt like a creep for not being able to ignore your presence. Her eyes naturally darted towards you, tracing every contour and inch of your exposed body, only covered by a red one-piece swimsuit. You looked like you were coming straight out of Baywatch, looking like every teenage boy’s dream... and hers, too. 

She felt ashamed for not being any better than a man.

Ellie really tried to focus on what Jesse was saying, but her mind kept drifting back to you. She felt a mix of awe and frustration. How could someone be so effortlessly captivating? The way you moved, the way you interacted with everyone—it was like you belonged in a different league.

“Ellie, you with me?” Jesse’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks heat up.

Jesse raised an eyebrow but continued. “Like I was saying, just remember to stay alert and don’t hesitate to step in if something looks off. We’ve got a good team here, so don’t worry.”

Ellie nodded, trying to absorb the information. She glanced at you again, noticing how you seemed completely at ease, chatting and laughing with the other lifeguards. The auburnette envied that ease, that confidence, something she seemed to lack. Ellie always felt out of place in moments like this. She tried not to be so shy and be more easygoing, but your presence felt almost intimidating. She couldn’t shake the feeling of inadequacy. You were so stunning, so composed, and she felt like a fucking loser in comparison.

24th of June.

Since she couldn’t bring herself to talk to you on the first day, Ellie tried again on the second, encouraged by Jesse’s comforting words, “Try not to look like a drooling loser when you talk to her,” He couldn't help but crack a smile at the almost imperceptible scoff she gave him in response. Her sun-kissed cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink, making her freckles look like tiny specks of stardust against a rosy sky. It was endearing how easy it was to tease her, and what Jesse found more endearing was how she couldn’t tear her attentive eyes away from you, tracking your every move like a hawk eyeing its next meal or an art connoisseur fixated on a masterpiece—almost as if you were the center of her universe, a celestial body she could orbit but never touch. 

He knocked his shoulder into hers, sending her stumbling awkwardly and bursting her fragile soap bubble, scattering her thoughts into a chaotic mess. Startled and momentarily yanked out of her little barrier of daydreams and delusions, she mumbled defensively under her breath, “I’m not a loser.” Before she could gather herself, he was already striding away, heading toward a group of kids running around the pool, corralling them like a shepherd with a sharp blow of his whistle.

Her ivy-hued irises followed him for a moment before drifting back to you. You were conversing with an older woman, a beaming smile adorning your face as you nodded at her words every now and then; your hair framed your immaculate features in such a way that Ellie wanted to capture that moment forever. Something about your effortless beauty captivated her; you were so perfect that it made her wonder if you could possibly be real. Could you be just the result of her wild imagination? Possibly, yeah.

Ellie just lingered in the background, waiting patiently for an opportunity to approach you without interrupting your conversation. She had been acting busy, meticulously inspecting the pool to make sure everyone was following the rules, but her eyes kept drifting back to you. She couldn’t help it. When she observed you walking towards a plastic chair, sensing her chance, she mustered up her courage and approached you.

Don’t be a pussy, don’t be a pussy. Ellie repeated the words to herself like a mantra.

Her heart raced wildly as she walked towards you, her mind a whirl of anxious thoughts. What if she stumbled over her words?

With every step she took, the knots in her stomach grew tighter and tighter.

She kept debating with herself, inching closer and closer to you. Honestly, the thought of talking to you was unbearable. She knew she’d end up looking like a fool. Why was she even trying to get your attention? Wait, was that really her intention? Was she actually planning to make you like her? She huffed at her desperation.

Maybe she could just turn back and pretend you weren’t there. Like she didn’t see you every day at work. 

As she continued her internal argument, your voice suddenly snapped her back to reality.

“Hey, you’re the new girl,” You exclaimed, taking a confident step toward the freckle-faced girl. She swore she could almost see the confidence pouring out of your every pore, her heart pounding wildly in her chest and palms becoming disgustingly clammy as her cheeks flushed, the relentless sun only making it worse. Being so close to you, Ellie noticed how each strand of your hair swayed with the gentle summer breeze that had decided to bless them on the disturbingly hot summer day.

There was no fucking way you noticed her, no fucking way you were talking to her right now. Ellie forced out a dry, awkward chuckle, “Y-yeah. Think that’s me,” she stumbled over her words, giving you a half-crooked smile, her eyes darting around nervously, avoiding direct eye contact. She felt ridiculous for not being able to maintain steady eye contact. Why did she have to be so embarrassing? Why was talking to pretty girls so fucking hard?

“Yeah,” you responded with a steady tone, in stark contrast to her shaky and almost timid voice. Your gaze shamelessly roamed over every inch of her, taking in every detail from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. A barely audible hum escaped your lips, “Ellen, right?” you inquired, your eyes locking briefly before the aubrunette looked away again.

“Ellie,” she corrected you shyly, her slender fingers absentmindedly tracing delicate patterns on the back of her neck.

“Why, what did I say?” you questioned nonchalantly, still studying her. She felt small and insignificant under your scrutinizing gaze, almost judged. All of a sudden, she felt so self-conscious about her looks.

“Nothing,” she mumbled, snorting quietly. Uncertain of what to do next and feeling almost scared of contradicting you, she hesitantly reached out her hand toward you. Your inquisitive eyes locked onto her veiny hand, studying it for a few moments before finally shaking it. “Nice to meet you.” 

Starstruck eyes stared right back at yours, and a wide grin that never left her face. She felt a rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins as she held your hand, letting it linger a bit longer than necessary, though too lost in a world of her own to notice. After a whole semester pining over you on campus, watching you from afar like a Joel Goldberg, she finally found herself face-to-face with you, engaged in a real conversation. She had been waiting for this moment for a lifetime, almost, feeling truly seen and known by you for the very first time.

A slow smile crept across your face, and your gaze dropped down to her hand, which was still firmly attached to yours in a stubborn grip like a tenacious octopus refusing to let go. “Don’t get attached,” Your jest had a confident, almost boastful tone, causing her heart to skip a beat.

Were you making fun of her? Was she making a fool of herself? Her mind quickly became consumed by overthinking. It was absurd; how could she draw such strong conclusions after just two minutes of conversation with you? Three minutes was enough to send her thoughts into a tempestuous cyclone, their rhythm erratic and tumultuous. She told herself that she was simply overthinking, but sometimes, it's easy to mistake intuition for overthinking.

The nervous girl forced out a strained, strangled chuckle, “I’ll try not to,” she said, attempting to match your casual tone, even though her heart was still racing.

You laughed softly, a sound that seemed to echo in her mind long after you walked away. Ellie stood there for a moment, trying to steady her breath and slow down her chaotic thoughts. Her eyes darted towards Dina, who stood nearby with a smirk on her face, arms crossed over her chest and leaning nonchalantly against the bar wall. Her long, dark brown hair was tied up in a high, sleek ponytail, and she casually chewed on a piece of gum, observing the entire encounter with a mixture of amusement and appraisal.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dina teased her friend, walking over to her.

Ellie rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, sure. Piece of cake,” she muttered, though the adrenaline still coursed through her veins.

As the day continued, Ellie found herself glancing at you more often than she’d like to admit. Each time she saw you, she felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. She couldn’t shake the gut feeling that this summer was going to be different.

28th of June.

Ellie sighed in relief as she sought refuge under the closest patch of shade she could find. The scorching sun was relentless, turning her into a messy canvas for glistening beads of sweat to trickle down her dotted face and back. The air felt heavy and stagnant, intensifying the already stifling heat. It seemed like the sun had a personal vendetta against her today, making every little thing feel ten times more irritating.

Like you, for example.

Being around you was a source of never-ending irritation for her, and she despised the fact that she had to share the same airspace with you. It was an injustice in her eyes, how your stunning good looks did not reflect your unpleasant personality. How could looks be so fucking deceiving? Ellie had no clue, all she knew was that she fell for it. Every. Single. Time.

The fury inside her was like an uncontrollable wildfire as she aggressively scribbled over your name with her pen in her journal. If only it were that easy to erase you completely, to make you vanish as if you had never existed. Feeling completely dumb for even remotely thinking that you could be any different from the people you hung out with. Every time she had to interact with you, the only thoughts echoing in her mind were Dina's warning words. 

Dina was right.

But Ellie would never say it out loud only to get an “I told you” back.

Everyone had warned her about you—they all knew the truth about your character, yet she found herself stubbornly holding onto the belief that there was something more to you than just the surface-level impression. If she were to add your name to a list of defining terms, it would undoubtedly be accompanied by words like “evil,”“spoiled,” or even the simplest yet most descriptive term, “brat.”

Working with you was a constant nightmare; even being in the same vicinity as you felt like torturous purgatory. You seemed incapable of restraining yourself, constantly throwing witty, biting remarks to the anxious girl, even when she hadn't provoked you in any way. It perplexed her—why did you take such pleasure in taunting her? It was as if the world itself would implode if you didn’t pick on her despite the seemingly nonexistent reasons behind your hostility. She often found herself rambling about you to her friends. This time, though, not in a good way.

Talking to you felt like a return to the nightmarish experience that was middle school, a trip down memory lane that brought back memories she had worked so hard to forget. The bullying she had endured during that period had left a lasting impact on her, and your presence seemed to trigger something in her. It was for that exact reason that she tried her best to keep any interactions with you brief, limited to the bare essentials.

She watched as you sprang from your seat, sprinting after the kids, yelling at them, the shrill sound of your annoying whistle piercing the air. Threats flew from your mouth, aimed at their misbehavior and disruption of the pool’s tranquility. The best part? No one seemed to care about your passive-aggressive attitude because, let’s face it, you were just doing your job, and you were pretty damn good at it—pretty damn good at scaring people.

Ellie’s eyes took in the kids' terrified faces as they looked up at you, wide-eyed and quivering, but you didn’t care. Their fear didn’t stop you from messing with their childish, naive minds. Their innocence was like a delicate flower, easily manipulated. If Ellie claimed she didn't find it amusing, her nose would’ve grown like Pinocchio’s. It was almost comical how easily you maintained order, seemingly without effort. You possessed a natural inclination for control, a characteristic that could be a strength or a flaw, depending on one's perspective. 

“You know what happens if you run on a wet floor? You slip and hit your head,” you barked, hands firmly planted on your hips. “Is that what you two little gremlins want? To end up in a hospital with a cracked skull?” The kids darted off to their mothers, who were too engrossed in their own conversations to notice. You scoffed, watching them scamper away like puppies with their tails between their legs. Crossing your arms over your red bikini top, you muttered, “That’s what I thought,” a smirk curling your lips. It was almost as if you derived some twisted satisfaction from seeing others—especially kids—tremble in fear. There was an ever-present sadistic delight in your eyes whenever someone dared to cross your path, a blend of authority and mischief that made you the unchallenged queen of the poolside.

Ellie only ever saw a warm smile on your face when you were talking to the moms of the kids you had scared away in such a devilish manner. You transformed around them, becoming overly sugary-sweet, showering them with compliments and shooting wide grins their way. Your demeanor softened, offering them drinks as if you were hosting a garden party instead of working at a public pool.

The redhead scoffed as she tried to decipher your persona. You were a walking contradiction, a goddess clad in a red bikini. One moment, you were a menacing warden, barking orders and traumatizing kids; the next, you were a social butterfly, all warm smiles and saccharine charm with their moms. So fucking weird.

Ellie didn’t expect you to notice her presence not so far behind you, but nothing ever seemed to escape your attention. You were like a hawk, sharply observant, contrasting your superficial personality. Then again, maybe it was all an act you were putting on. Ellie marveled at the paradox of your nature—how you seemed so frivolous and charming on the surface yet were always acutely aware of everything happening around you. It was as if you had a second set of eyes hidden behind your back, always watching, always calculating, leaving her to wonder what was real and what was merely a façade.

“What? Got something to say?” Your voice was anything but friendly, ready to spark an argument over nothing. Your arched brows seemed to challenge her, daring her to complain or speak her mind in any way. 

Maybe she should just drop it before you could escalate things. Ellie wasn't in the mood for meaningless bickering, especially not under the blazing sun, sweating like a cow. 

But sometimes, her body loved to betray her.

“That was just a little bit harsh, is all,” the words slipped out before she could stop them, only realizing she'd spoken aloud when your expression shifted to a mocking smirk.

“Pardon?” You challanged, daring her to continue. She knew you had heard her perfectly; if you had caught her scoff a few seconds ago, there was no way you missed her comment now. The awkward girl knew what you were doing—trying to make her feel small and stupid for speaking up.

She couldn't back down now.

Ellie gulped, nerves tightening in her stomach, but stood her ground. “It’s just... they’re kids, you know?” Her voice wavered slightly, but she held your gaze, determined not to let you intimidate her.

“And?” You looked at her like she was exaggerating, as if she had been the one yelling at kids for having fun, threatening to call the police on them, or telling them she'd hijack their Christmas gifts from Santa and sell them on the black market.

Ellie knew there was no point in arguing or trying to tell you off, so she shook her head slowly, her eyes glued to the wet mosaic tiles. An airy chuckle escaped her lips as she replied, “Nothing.”

But of course, you didn’t drop it. “We gotta make sure people—especially kids—don’t get hurt, and if you don’t yell at them, they’re just going to keep doing it—that’s how kids are,” you justify your actions without a hint of remorse in your voice or on your face. The freckled girl knew you were right, but she tended to be softer with kids.

Ellie loved kids and swore nothing was better than being young, carefree, and without worries beyond your favorite toys and your best friend. Sometimes, she missed being a kid, even if she still felt like one deep down. Perhaps the fact that Joel kept treating her like one didn’t help. Always spamming her with texts, asking if she had eaten when she wasn’t home, staying out all day. Asking her a thousand questions at a time, enough to make her brain short-circuit.

“You terrified them!” Ellie exclaimed, though an involuntary laugh slipped out with her words, causing you to smirk ever so slightly.

“Oh, sorry, Eleonor,” you taunted, deliberately getting her name wrong as you stepped closer. “How ‘bout you teach me your ways?” Sarcasm dripped from your voice as your eyes locked with hers. For once, the green-eyed girl managed not to look away; your eyes were so animated and clever, like a fox's gaze, giving off the impression that you were always one step ahead and knew more than you let on.

Ellie’s expression dropped as soon as ‘her’ name rolled off your tongue. You were trying to get under her skin, as always, and despite it being something so insignificant, it worked wonders. The fact that you were invading her personal space didn't help either. “It’s Ellie,” she puffed.

“Oh, I thought it was short for Eleonor,” you said mockingly.

“Nope, just Ellie—’s not short for anything,” she replied, her tone tinged with annoyance, causing you to grin like the Cheshire cat. God, if you loved getting her worked up, having her wrapped around your finger, and messing with her mood so easily. It was endearing, truly.

“Hmm… dunno, I like Eleonor better, though,” you insisted with a cheeky grin. Your voice took on a more sultry tone. Or had she imagined it? Maybe she had.

Ellie had heard that being under the sun for too long could cause hallucinations and general sickness, and she was already sweating like crazy. That was her explanation, because why in the world would you ever try to flirt with her?

“Well, ‘s not my name,” she insisted.

The tanned girl’s chest expanded as her breath caught in her throat as you drew nearer with each passing moment. You inched so close that she could almost discern the individual strands of your eyelashes that cast shadows on her cheeks, the way your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Your intense gaze, focused and persistent, traced the contours of her cheeks. 

Entranced, Ellie found her emerald eyes involuntarily drawn to your lips, merely inches away from hers. Unconsciously, she moistened her own lips, utterly captivated as she absorbed every pore and mole on your skin, revering every aspect of your being, whether flaw or perfection, with unwavering devotion in her mind. You were insanely beautiful; it was almost unfair. 

You extended your hand to cup her cheek gently, your thumb dragging across her cheekbone, spreading the sunscreen she had hastily applied in the morning. Ellie instinctively flinched at the unexpected contact. “You can't even apply sunscreen correctly,” you sneered, your voice dripping with mockery, before abruptly withdrawing and turning on your heel, leaving her standing there completely bewildered and disoriented.

What the fuck?

She spotted her dear best friend Dina, and Ellie ran up to her, eager to spill everything that had happened. A weird frustration churned inside her, a knot in her stomach that seemed to tighten as she rambled on and on about how obnoxious you were. She was down bad and wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Like- what the hell is her pro—” but Dina had enough.

“Jesus, get a grip, Ellie! Can’t you see I’m busy? You don’t get paid to act like a schoolgirl,” Dina groaned deeply, her manicured hands moving swiftly as she folded the pastel-colored towels, her eyes glued to her agitated friend. The cinnamon-haired girl had been caught in a continuous rant for the last 30 minutes, carelessly stumbling into Dina and disrupting her work as she paced around in a flustered manner.

Ellie groaned deeply in return, almost indignant at Dina’s reaction. How could she brush her off like this instead of offering comfort and reassuring words? Isn’t that what friends are supposed to do? Well, she had been, but at some point, the brunette grew tired of repeating herself over and over.

“I just don’t understand!” Ellie exclaimed furiously, her voice raising just enough to draw the attention of a few people sitting on the pool’s edge. To top it off, when she gestured, her hands knocked into the drinks Jesse was carrying as he approached the two girls from behind. Luckily, the cups were plastic, but the tray was thicker, causing a disturbing noise as it clattered on the mosaic. Ellie’s verdant emeralds widened, and she whipped around, cursing under her breath, “Shit, Jesse!”

She mumbled a flurry of apologies to the taller guy as she crouched down to help with the mess she had inadvertently caused. Her bare knees pressed against the cool, wet mosaic as her hands quickly gathered the plastic cups, stacking them one by one. As she fumbled to collect the scattered paper umbrellas, now lying crumpled on the moist floor, she placed them back on the tray, her movements slightly clumsy. Her chest tightened with embarrassment at the scene she had created.

“The fuck’s going on with you, man?” Jesse’s eyes scanned her face, confused.

“Her little girlfriend! That’s what happened,” his girlfriend exclaimed, completely fed up.

“Oh my god, Dina!” Ellie groaned, exasperated.

Jesse, being his usual self, furrowed his unplucked brows together. A quizzical expression took over his features, “You got a girlfriend?” he asked, bewildered, which seemed to throw Dina off even more, the confusion in his voice only adding fuel to the fire. 

The brunette shook her head, facepalming herself with an exasperated sigh. “I’m done,” she declared before walking away from the two, leaving them staring after her. She had been acting a little lunatic the whole day; maybe she was on her period. Ellie didn’t know. Or maybe it was because she had clumsily dropped Dina’s phone into the pool exactly three hours ago, the same phone she had worked so hard to get because her old one was falling apart like the Pisa tower. But hey, it was still working!

“Who? Cat?” the taller boy suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them. He redirected his attention back to his friend, and for a moment, all she could do was scoff. She couldn't believe he had actually brought up a girl she dated over three years ago. 

Ellie looked at him in disbelief, her heart-shaped lips slightly agape as if she was about to say something, ready to go off on him, but decided against it at the last moment. ‘Typical Jesse,’ she thought to herself. He knew everything because he always hung out with them, and if he didn’t, his girlfriend made sure to keep him in the loop. Plus, Ellie had a habit of rambling about every girl who kept her up at night, so it was impossible to miss or forget. But that's just how Jesse was—blissfully oblivious and fucking clueless. 

Ellie shook her head and sighed deeply before walking off as well.

“Why? What did I say?” He called out after her, his voice raised just enough to catch her attention. He watched as she stalked away, her irritation clear in the way she carried herself. He was left standing there, looking lost and utterly baffled, with a plastic tray in his hand.

30th of June.

It wasn’t long until another girl joined the team. Ellie was now responsible for introducing the new member and orienting her to the job. She meticulously explained all the rules and how everything worked, ensuring the new girl was well-prepared and well-trained for the job. Otherwise, you’d be on her ass about it, blaming the auburnette for any mistakes, just like you normally did. 

Ellie was initially hesitant, nervously stumbling over her words and avoiding the girl’s Lapis lazuli gaze. However, as time passed, she began to feel more at ease in the blonde's presence. Alexis exuded sweetness and was undeniably beautiful. They found their usual spot by the lifeguard station, sitting side by side and engaging in conversations that meandered through various topics. As they talked, their gazes wandered idly across the bustling pools, and a gentle breeze enveloped them, offering a pleasant sensation on their sun-warmed skin.

The weather was perfect. The gentle breeze kept the air just the right temperature, and the sunshine was warm without being too intense. Fluffy white clouds floated by, offering a welcome break from the direct sunlight. Their billowing forms shielded the freckled girl from the harsh rays that might otherwise have left her fair skin burnt and uncomfortable.

She had not set out intending to forge new friendships that summer. Although It felt too soon to label Alexis as a friend, she didn’t mind the possibility of meeting new people. Though she treasured her current friends, there were times when she craved the fresh energy that came with forming new connections. She recognized that stepping out of her comfort zone and meeting new faces could bring a welcome change, and she needed to ‘expand her social horizons’—Joel’s words.

However, you didn’t waste a second. You quickly disrupted Ellie’s fleeting moment of peace, shouting her name loudly and incessantly. Initially, she tried to ignore you, hoping you would give up and leave her be. But you persisted, standing by the bar, leaning against the counter, and chanting her name. When she feigned deafness, you resorted to using your trusty megaphone, the latest object of your obsession, employing it for seemingly every trivial matter.

"Eleanor Williams!”

She closed her eyes and cringed inwardly as her cheeks flushed a bright pink, embarrassed by the unwanted attention she was receiving from the onlookers around her. Their confused glances only added to her discomfort, making her wish for the ground to swallow her up on the spot.

Why did you have to be like this? She stopped asking herself that at some point.

Alexis furrowed her perfectly arched brows, her crystal blue eyes filled with puzzlement as she gazed at Ellie. Her head tilted gracefully to the side, highlighting her confusion as she asked, “Who’s Eleanor?”

“It’s me.” Ellie let out a heavy sigh, slowly rising from her pristine plastic chair, her gaze shifting downwards to the small, delicate figure of the girl before her, muttering, “Be right back,” 

She strode cautiously towards you, avoiding eye contact with everyone looking at her. Every step she took brought her closer to you, but your relentless shouting through the megaphone continued unabated. 

“How many times do I have to shout your name?” You stood with an air of drama, waving your hands in sweeping arcs above you. Your body swayed gently as you shifted your weight to one foot, and your free hand found its place resting comfortably on your hip.

“Once was enough,” Ellie replied flatly. The tension in her expression hinted at the internal dialogue she had engaged in as if she had carefully composed herself, steeling her mind and heart for whatever was coming.

“The fuck are you doing?” You stood there, gazing blankly at her. A hand rested on your left hip, mirroring the other hand on your right hip. The white megaphone was wedged against your side, the loose laces of the bottom of your bikini swaying gently in the breeze.

“What do you mean?” 

“Why are you just sitting there doing absolutely nothing?” you demanded, cutting her off as she tried to reply. “See those ladies over there? They ordered four diet cokes.”

“And?” She pressed her lips together, her eyebrows furrowing as she stared at you, confused.

“So get them their drinks—Gosh! Are you, like, stupid?” You exclaimed with annoyance, the frustration evident in your voice. Ellie’s brows, marked with scars, furrowed as she prepared to engage in a heated argument. “You… drinks… ladies over there… diet coke. Understand?” With a slow and exaggerated mocking tone, as if talking to an alien from outer space.

Ellie’s veiny arms were tightly crossed over her vibrant red t-shirt, creating a striking contrast against her fair skin. A look of determination furrowed her brow, her cheeks flushing as red as a ripe tomato, betraying her attempt to maintain composure and not cause any scene. “I’m a lifeguard,” she reminded you.

You couldn't help but stifle a dry chuckle as the corners of your lips curled up into a smile at her statement, practically laughing in her face. Stepping closer to her, you couldn't contain your amusement, “Look,” you said with a grin, your eyes fixated on the pool. The vibrant scene unfolded before you—children playing and swimming while adults engaged in animated conversations. 

Ellie turned around, following your gaze, and then turned her face back to yours, clearly not comprehending what you were referring to. “Look at what?” She found herself unable to resist the urge to question you again, the slight edge of irritation creeping into her voice, her patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

“Exactly—no one’s drowning.” You pointed to the lively pool, the laughter and chatter filling the air. Her gaze remained fixed on the scene before her, and her peripheral vision tracked you as you leaned in close to her. Your warm breath tickled the side of her neck, and she involuntarily shivered at the sensation. The auburnette froze in place, feeling your face mere inches away from her ear, “You’re not just a lifeguard. You’re whatever I want you to be,” you said, your voice a sinister hiss in her ear, each word dripping with venomous mockery. The corners of your mouth curled upwards into a prideful grin, your eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction as you reveled in your power over her. She fought the urge to wipe that irritating expression off your stupid face. You were extremely gorgeous but so insanely maddening at the same time.

She clenched her jaw in frustration, her gaze following you as you sauntered away to talk to an older woman who was a regular at the pool with her child. Her self-admonishment grew when she caught herself checking you out, her eyes taking in the softness of your thighs, hips, and the inviting roundness of your ass. She hated herself even more for her body’s instinctive reaction to such a vision, a mixture of conflicting emotions coursing through her.

4th Of July.

The day was oppressively hot, and the pool was more crowded than usual, adding to the chaos. Ellie constantly moved back and forth, attending to tasks she had not anticipated having to do. When she applied for the job, she had envisioned a laid-back role where she could relax, sit on her ass and move only when necessary. Cause the chances of anyone drowning in a pool were very low, let’s be realistic. Instead, you proved her wrong, forcing trusting her with responsibilities that didn’t belong on her shoulders.

What truly frustrated her was how you remained still, doing absolutely nothing, while constantly barking orders and yelling at everyone around you. It drove the green-eyed girl crazy to witness how effortlessly you directed others without lifting a finger yourself.

Ellie collected the empty beer cans two men had left on the black countertop, wiping sweat from her forehead with her other arm, baby hairs sticking to her damp skin. She couldn’t help but scoff as she observed you from a distance. You were near the pool, lounging casually on a towel with your arms propping you up behind your back, engaged in animated conversation with your friends. You giggled loudly every now and then, amused by the hurtful comments your friends made about people who remained blissfully unaware of their disdainful stares.

Judgmental snakes that acted as if no one could measure up to or surpass them. It absolutely infuriated her. She loathed how you and those kids seemed to effortlessly receive everything you desired on a silver platter, while average people like her had to labor relentlessly for anything she hoped to achieve in her life.

It wasn't actually the wealth itself that angered her; rather, it was the blatant arrogance and smugness you all displayed, as if being wealthy automatically made you superior individuals with no moral values or empathy for anyone else.

Nevertheless, you had stunned her with your choice of attire that day—a two-piece bikini that revealed your captivating figure. Despite feeling frustrated that she couldn't catch a break while you lounged around doing nothing, she couldn't help but admire your otherworldly physique. Yet, it was wrong to feel that way about a piece of shit like you.

“Glad someone’s keeping her busy,” Alexis�� voice acted like an invisible tug on Ellie's sleeve, pulling her back from her thoughts. The freckled girl shook her head as if trying to clear her mind and curiously responded with a quiet “hm?”

“Too busy shit-talking with her friends to be up our ass,” The honey-haired girl carefully adjusted her hair, tucking a stray piece of golden hair behind her pierced ear. Ellie couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the girl’s remark, responding with a warm smile and a subtle bob of her head.

“Right? I don’t understand how they haven’t kicked her out yet; she does nothing all day!” she complained as the blonde behind the countertop meticulously cleaned up the spill on the sleek black marble surface, casting a quizzical gaze in her direction.

“Kick who out?”

“Her.” Ellie leaned her forearms on the countertop, her gaze locked onto her blue ones.

Alexis let out a scoff and gave her a look “Why would her father kick her out?” Ellie’s eyes widened in surprise, her voice strangled as she almost choked on the air she was breathing. The incredulity in her expression was palpable, a clear indication that she had no fucking clue.

“What’d you say?” She questioned tentatively, inwardly hoping that her ears were merely playing tricks on her. The disbelief in her voice was evident as she tried to make sense of the shocking revelation she had just heard.

“She owns this place—you didn’t know?” Alexis asked in disbelief, speaking as if the information were common knowledge, which made it all the more surprising that Ellie was unaware of it.

But given your wealthy background and how you carried yourself, it suddenly made perfect sense. Everything fell into place. Your commanding presence wasn't just a show of authority—you actually owned this entire establishment. You weren't striving to save money for some personal goal as Ellie had assumed; rather, you were here because your family had ownership over the pool, the spa nearby, and every other facility in this area.

“Dude, I had no fucking clue,” she uttered, flabbergasted, her emerald green eyes darting in your direction as a gentle breeze played with the soft, auburn strands of her hair, tickling her face. 

The freckled girl observed the scene unfolding before her, her eyes fixed on the tall, muscular guy approaching your small group, a golden retriever trotting loyally at his side. Despite his sunglasses, she could sense his gaze fixated on you, and when you stood up to greet him, she watched your lips move but couldn't discern any words. Her thoughts were interrupted by Alexis's rambling, but her attention quickly shifted back to you as the guy started to engage in conversation with you, her stomach twisting in a strange flutter of unease.

“Are dogs even allowed in here?” was the first thing Ellie grumbled, her irritation evident as she interrupted her friend's rambling monologue. It was clear that she wasn't really paying attention to what was being said, her mind preoccupied with other thoughts.

“Pshh—when I wanted to bring my dog in here, she said I couldn't.” Alexis huffed, passing a popsicle to the young boy who had approached and requested it. A small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth before storming off with his little brother. “Had to leave my Nana home with-” But Ellie wasn't having it. She was already storming towards you, her green eyes flashing with anger and determination. You had alwas doled out rules yet seemed to disregard them yourself. She didn't care if you owned the place and had the authority to do as you pleased. As far as she was concerned, you needed to adhere to the standards you had set, and she was determined to make that happen… and she wanted that guy gone. 

Your two friends remained laid out on their towels, one sipping on a cocktail and the other engaged in a gossip session, their conversation marked by animated gestures. However, as Ellie approached, they immediately took notice. This time, she paid no mind to their gazes, instead stomping up to stand just behind you, her arms crossed in a defensive stance. Meanwhile, you were oblivious to her presence, completely unaware of her lurking behind you.

You knelt down to give the guy's dog some attention, running your fingers through its soft fur and scratching behind its ears. You continued to pet the dog, a sweet smile gracing your lips, “Such a cute fuckin’ dog, aren’t ya?” Ellie listened as you let out a low chuckle, your voice dropping into a silly tone as you spoke to the dog. The pup seemed to perk up at your voice, tilting her head slightly to the side as you found the sweet spot behind her ear, causing her to lean into your touch and let out a soft whine. “Like owner, like dog.” You looked up at the guy, your voice taking on a more flirtatious tone than Ellie had ever heard you use before. Your eyes sparkled with a hint of innocence as you slowly stood back up.

The sleazy guy chuckled, a gravelly sound that echoed into Ellie's ears, threatening to make them bleed. It was incredible how, with just a hint of attention, you made him feel like he'd struck gold in a barren desert. You barely gave him the time of day, but that sliver of acknowledgment had him grinning like he’d just hit the jackpot. 

The boy’s eyes were glued to your chest, drooling over your perfect goddamn tits as if he'd discovered a hidden treasure in the most unexpected place. You were a twisted goddess of fortune, and he was more than happy to worship, soaking up every precious moment with a grin that said he’d do anything to stay in this heavenly hell. But all you needed was his weed, and while he was fantasizing about you, you were already thinking of dumping his ass when you didn't need him anymore. 

“What’s her name?” You flashed him a charming smile as you spoke, tilting your head slightly to one side as you looked up at him with a coy expression.

“Nelly,” He replied, pulling up his sunglasses, his brown eyes devouring every curve of your body without a hint of shame. He was eye-fucking you like it was just another day, and Ellie felt the bile rise in her throat. Men never ceased to amaze her; they were all disgusting, perverted assholes hiding behind a thin veil of chill and manners. What pissed her off even more was that you were letting it happen. You were into it. You reveled in the attention, loving every second of being liked, as if his filthy gaze was some kind of twisted validation. 

Was that what you needed? Validation?

Ellie decided to chime in, clearing her throat loudly. Your head snapped her way, surprise lighting up your sun-kissed features. Your carefully styled hair tumbling down your back—just one of the many things about you that baffled her. Why the hell would you spend time styling your hair every morning just to go to the pool? The heat and sweat would mess it up anyway. It was like trying to keep a snowman from melting in a sauna, completely pointless, but somehow, you did it every damn day.

“Dogs aren’t allowed.” The aburnette firmly stated, her words hanging in the air, drawing confused looks from you and the guy as if she were speaking a different language. But Ellie didn’t give a damn; she was just doing her job. Her mission was to keep everyone in line, making sure the rules were followed to the letter. That’s what your daddy was paying her for, right? 

You quickly brushed off her statement, returning your attention to the guy before you. “Nelly, huh?” you questioned with a wide smile, your eyes flicking to the dog patiently sitting at her owner’s feet. Her golden fur gleamed under the sunlight, her eyes a beautiful honey color. 

Ellie didn’t have anything against the dog; she loved dogs and had always wanted one. But that dude needed to fuck off. She couldn’t even put her finger on why she felt this way, so irritated and annoyed, like an itch she couldn’t scratch. The sight of you flirting with that douchebag made her blood boil, leaving her wondering why it all pissed her off so much.

“Just like my friend here.” You suddenly exclaimed, your fake, cheerful voice, cutting through the tense atmosphere and snapping Ellie out of her turbulent thoughts. 

“My name’s not—” she began, but you shut her off, waving a dismissive hand in her direction.

“Yeah, yeah. Nelly, Ellie… same thing,” you scoffed, your eyes still locked on the guy by the pool. “So I was saying…” Your voice dropped to a sultry whisper as you bit your lip, scanning him up and down, fingers gently tracing the contours of his strong arm. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, eyes shamelessly glued to your cleavage, never quite making it to your face.

“Dogs aren’t—” Ellie tried again, her voice a persistent drone in the background.

“Don’t forget my stuff,” you whispered in his ear. You batted your lashes at him as you pulled back, your gaze locking with his. Ellie’s disgusted glare darted between you and him, her lips pressed into a tight line.

“I won’t. See you later?” 

“Hmm-hmm. See you later, handsome.” Your voice was honey-sweet, dripping with fake affection, and the guy seemed utterly spellbound, his eyes never straying from your body.

Ellie huffed loudly, the sound almost lost in the noise of the poolside chatter, and you turned to face her, annoyance flashing across your features. You reached for the expensive sunglasses dangling from your bikini top and slid them on with practiced ease.

“Jesus, Ellen, got nothing better to do?” you grumbled, your tone laced with irritation and disdain.

“Dogs aren’t allowed,” Ellie repeated, her voice steady but tinged with frustration. She stood there, arms crossed, an immovable wall of resolve.

“Are you done? Because you’re starting to behave like a bot. Maybe hanging out with Alexa over there is rubbing off on you,” you sneered, turning your back on her with a dismissive wave. You strolled back to your friends, who were whispering among themselves, their eyes darting towards Ellie with thinly veiled amusement.

She turned away, ready to resume her duties, but your voice, dripping with venom, sliced through her ears.

“Have you seen her?” one of your friends giggled, their voice a conspiratorial whisper.

“She’s so embarrassing, oh my god,” another chimed in, their laughter bubbling up like champagne.

“Embarrassing is an understatement,” you commented without missing a beat, your voice carrying a sharp edge. 

Ellie could feel the sting of your words, each one like a tiny drop of acid, smoldering away her already fragile self-esteem. She knew your cruel comments spared no one, yet hurt still bloomed in her chest, a dull ache that refused to fade. You loosed a laugh, a sound that blended sweet melody with sinister intent, leaving her captivated and repulsed. The echoes of your laugh, mingled with the cruel whispers of your friends, reverberated in her mind, morphing into a haunting, chilling soundtrack to her nightmares as she made her way back to her busy friend behind the counter.

“How’d it go?” Alexis questioned, her voice tinged with genuine concern as she handed Ellie a cup of sweetened tea. The blonde girl's eyes roamed across Ellie's face, taking in the tense, almost pained expression that twisted her features, preparing herself for the worst. 

“Amazing,” Ellie responded with a hefty helping of sarcasm, quickly downing the drink. She then slumped onto a stool at the bar, her elbows roughly digging into the cold, unyielding surface of the marble counter.

The shorter girl behind the bar chuckled softly, her laughter a soothing balm in the tense atmosphere. “You coming tonight?”

A look of perplexity etched on her face. The line marring her brow looked like a work of art that the blue-eyed friend couldn’t help but admire. “Coming where?”

“In your underwear—” Alexis deadpanned, before bursting into snorts of laughter at Ellie’s flushed cheeks, her reaction priceless. “To the party,” The silken strands of hair framing her face bounced as she spoke more seriously, her hands deftly collecting cups left by the sink, preparing to give them a proper wash.

“Party?”

“The whole staff is invited,” the blonde explained, her voice a melodic mix of excitement and mischief. “But no annoying kids around; The Bitch said we can use the pool.” Ellie couldn’t help but let out a small, crooked smile of her own at the name her friend had bestowed upon you. “You should come, Ellie. It’ll be fun,” Her voice was full of genuine enthusiasm as she scrubbed the cups with vigor, the water splashing slightly.

The redhead shrugged, still feeling the sting of your earlier words. “I don’t know, Lex. I’m not really in the mood.” Truth was that she didn’t want to spend a second more around you, especially outside work.

Alexis paused, her hands resting on the edge of the sink, eyes locking onto her friend’s. “Hey, don’t let her get to you. She’s just... Well, you know how she is. Come to the party, have some fun.”

She sighed again, the tension slowly easing from her shoulders. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

“Atta girl,” she grinned, resuming her task with renewed energy. “Trust me, you’ll feel better after a few drinks and a good swim.”

Ellie chuckled softly, the corners of her lips twitching upwards. Maybe Alexis was right. Maybe a night of fun was exactly what she needed to shake off the day’s negativity. The thought of the party, with its promise of laughter and freedom, was a small but welcome spark of light in the otherwise dark cloud of her thoughts. She sure as hell wasn’t going to let you ruin her day.

4th of July, The evening.

Ellie despised parties and loathed crowds even more, as they left her feeling left out and isolated in an unfamiliar environment. She longed to escape back to the comfort of her home, but that choice was unfortunately not an option for her tonight. The pale girl ended up giving in because of Dina and Alexis, who insisted so much that Ellie finally relented. She was almost physically dragged to the same pool where she worked, but this time for a different reason. It was to have fun and actually enjoy the pool, something she rarely did.

The pool was enormous, the kind that looked like only the wealthy could access, but luckily, it wasn’t expensive to spend a weekend there. The pool area was beautifully maintained, with lush greenery and elegant lounge chairs neatly arranged around the perimeter. It was a stark contrast to Ellie’s usual experience of scanning the water for trouble and scolding unruly kids.

She was almost happy to be there to enjoy some fresh air and lounge by the pool instead of acting like a barista and waitress—a job she had not signed up for. The redhead took a deep breath, feeling the warm sun on her skin, watching the water sparkle under the midday sun, inviting and cool. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. The air was filled with the scent of sunscreen and chlorine, a familiar but somehow more pleasant combination today.

The group of friends settled into their lounge chairs, and Ellie let herself relax, her freckled shoulders sinking into the cushioned seat. For once, she didn’t have to worry about keeping an eye on everyone. She could just be a regular person enjoying a day by the pool.

The afternoon slowly turned to evening as the group passed around drinks and joints, creating a relaxed atmosphere. Ellie sat at the pool's edge, letting her feet dangle in the cool water, engrossed in a lively conversation with Dina and Alexis, who were seated beside her. The setting sun painted the sky with a golden hue, casting a warm glow over them. 

She had only taken a few hits off her joint, and already, she couldn’t focus on anything but your thighs. The way those shorts hugged your hips and left the soft skin of your thighs exposed for everyone to see was simply captivating. They looked as soft as silk. You wore nothing on top but a black bikini, your crop top on one of the empty lounge chairs nearby. 

All noise—the incessant chattering of her friends and random people you had invited—faded into the background. You were the only thing that mattered. The way you moved, talked, and gave that stupid jerk sitting by your side a charming grin that surely made him believe he somehow stood a chance drove Ellie crazy. 

What a dick, she thought to herself. 

Ellie’s friends continued to talk and laugh, oblivious to her inner turmoil. Her eyes flickered to her friends and then back to you. You passed a joint to Ryan, who took it eagerly, his eyes glued to your face for once.

It was as clear as day that Ryan wanted to fuck you right there and then. Ellie recognized the look in his eyes; it was the same one she had whenever she looked at you—or so Dina claimed. But you were so hypnotizing. The way your plush wet lips wrapped around the joint, taking big hits like it was nothing—no coughing, no hesitation. It wasn’t your first time.

Ellie observed the brown-eyed boy attentively, almost maniacally, noting how his eyes never left your tits. And how you didn’t seem to mind. You almost seemed at ease with the knowledge of being liked, desired. That also meant free weed for everyone. She watched you laugh, the sound like a siren call that cut through the buzz around her. The besotten girl couldn't tear her eyes away from the way your hair fell over your shoulders, catching the last light of the setting sun, giving you an almost angelic glow. You seemed so comfortable, so effortlessly part of this world of social interactions and causal flirtations. You wore your confidence like a second skin, and Ellie found herself drawn to it, like a moth who gravitated towards danger without second thought.

Seeing Ryan, who sat next to you, soaking up your attention, caused a pang of jealousy to hit Ellie. She longed to be the person who held all of your attention, but instead, she was just an outsider looking in. 

The evening air grew cooler, but Ellie hardly noticed, her focus remained solely fixed on you. The world around her seemed to blur, and all she could see was the curve of your lips, the softness of your skin, the sparkle in your eyes. She took another drag from her joint, trying to calm her racing heart. The weed did little to dull her intense focus on you. If anything, it sharpened her awareness of every detail, every movement. Although she yearned to be closer to you, she knew it was never going to happen, not even in a million years, and this awareness only fueled her inability to look away. So, all she could do was watch, caught in the spell you had casted over her against her will.

Ellie felt her throat go dry, as if suddenly all the water on the planet had evaporated, leaving her parched. It was only when Alexis nudged her that she snapped out of her trance, her red, half-lidded eyes refocusing on the blonde girl beside her. Alexis was too close, causing Ellie to shift uncomfortably, creating some distance.

Why was she focusing on you anyway? Alexis had been by her side the whole night, trying to talk to her and being overall extremely nice. But for some reason, it felt like getting a taste of something that was missing salt; it was flavorless. Alexis was sweet and nice—they even liked the same things, for God’s sake. A girl who liked the same comics as her? It was almost a canon event. But, of course, fate had other plans for Ellie because she wasn’t interested in Alexis. In fact, she found her presence almost… annoying. She mentally kicked herself for even thinking of Alexis that way. She was such a kind girl, just trying to be friends—maybe more—but Ellie couldn’t care less.

She knew it was ridiculous, this unrequited fascination with you. Yet, she couldn’t help herself. You were like a star, dazzling and distant, while Alexis, kind and warm, was like a candle—close and comforting but not enough to hold Ellie’s attention.

Ellie wanted to desperately feel something for Alexis, to reciprocate her kindness and interest, but it felt forced. She sighed, running a hand through her messy auburn hair. It was in moments like these she realized how messed up she was for always chasing people who couldn’t care less about her. She felt a pang of guilt for not appreciating Alexis, who was right there, trying her best to connect while her thoughts constantly drifted back to you. You were like a magnet, pulling her attention away from everything and everyone else.

She couldn't exactly recall how they all ended up disgustingly high, sitting in a circle and playing a stupid game of truth or dare like high schoolers. It was such a childish game, but here they were. Her eyes were fixed on the bottle as if her life depended on it, and when it landed on you, she started praying in every language she knew—though her repertoire was limited to English, and she didn't even know how to pray.

The auburnette had never been particularly religious; she didn’t even believe in luck or fate. She wasn’t sure what she believed in, preferring things she could see, things that were scientifically proven. So she didn’t know what the hell she was doing, always praying and hoping that you’d talk to her, act differently, maybe even like her. You were just you, and no amount of mental manifestation seemed enough for you to actually see her.

It was bullshit. It was even more bullshit when the bottle landed on that stupid guy who had been thirsting over you the entire night, practically drooling over your body. Ellie couldn’t look away, not even when the kiss turned into a full-blown make-out session right in front of everyone—right in front of her. His callous and hungry hands pulled you close, letting them roam over your body, your ass, your waist, while you wrapped your arms around his neck.

The sight of his hands exploring your body, of your lips moving against his with such abandon, was almost too much to bear. The green-eyed girl glanced around the circle, noting the mix of reactions—some amused, some awkwardly averting their gaze. But Ellie’s eyes were drawn back to you, unable to tear herself away from the sight of your bodies intertwined. His hands caressed the bare skin of your back, and Ellie felt a pang of envy so sharp it was almost physical. The makeout session seemed to stretch on forever, and once it was over, it kept replaying like a broken record in her sick mind, an agonizing reminder of what she couldn’t have. 

The green bottle spun on the mosaic again and again, its movements blending into a rapid blur on the floor. Ellie sat there, though completely absent; she felt as if she were a million miles away, her surroundings slowly fading into an enveloping fog, the Silent Hill kind.

Jesse nudged her gently, his voice breaking through her thoughts in a friendly but insistent manner. “Dude, you with us?” His words jolted her back to reality, piercing through the haze that had enveloped her mind. She blinked, her eyes snapping to his dark chocolate pools.

Following his gaze to the floor, her eyes landed on the bottle, its neck pointing directly at her. A fleeting moment of surprise flickered across her face, her heart skipping a beat as she realized she was the chosen one.

The word “Dare” burst out of her mouth before she could even process what she was saying. Immediately, she regretted it; the cinnamon-haired girl wasn’t exactly as gutsy as she sometimes pretended to be. 

And as fate would have it, the bottle’s spin ended on the very person she least wanted it to. Alexis.

Her scarred eyebrows pinched together in a disappointed frown, an unexpected dryness creeping into her mouth. With sluggish movements that felt almost like wading through molasses, Ellie slowly turned to face the girl beside her, the moonlight casting a soft glow over her blonde locks. Alexis's eyes sparkled with mischief, her lips curving into a wide grin as she scooted closer. Ellie remained rooted to her spot, frozen in place, unable to bring herself to move.

Ellie failed to notice that your gaze, as cold and piercing as ice, was fixed on her with persistent intensity. Your eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of annoyance shadowing your features. 

Both girls knelt face to face, and Alexis quickly placed her hand on her waist and leaned in eagerly for a kiss. However, just as their lips met, Ellie pulled away and gave her just a gentle peck. A collective boooo rang out from the surrounding crowd, expressing their disapproval at the briefness of the kiss.

Their eyes met, Alexis' blue eyes locking with hers, holding a hint of confusion. The group around them kept urging them to kiss properly, their voices chanting and encouraging them to go further. When her gaze shifted to the crowd, Ellie's gaze inadvertently locked with yours for a moment. Your eyes were fixated on her with a harsh, almost murderous glare, as if you wanted to rip her apart that very instant.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss,”

“Ohhh come on! We want a proper kiss!”

“I love lesbian porn.”

“Is lesbian porn even real?”

When Ellie broke eye contact and turned back to the golden-haired girl before her, she saw a look of remorse plastered on her face, as if she feared she had crossed a boundary. “We don't have-” But before she could finish her sentence, Ellie silenced her by pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. Hovering over her, she gripped her by the waist, pulling her closer. Despite her efforts, though, kissing her felt almost nausea-inducing.

You didn't look away. Every second of Ellie and Alexis’ kiss was captured in the harsh, judgmental glare of your eyes. There was something almost perverse in how you watched, a blend of disgust and fascination twisting your expression. Ellie remained completely unaware of your intense observation, failing to notice the envy in your gaze and the deep-seated jealousy that gripped your stomach. Even if the redhead had detected your jealousy, she would have dismissed it as sheer animosity, failing to recognize the depth of your emotions. Just like she always did.

As the kiss ended, a huge, dumbstruck grin spread across her friend’s face, her eyes sparkling with joy like the myriad stars above them. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was slightly out of breath, clearly enjoying the moment. Ellie, on the other hand, had a look of regret and shock on her face, almost as if she was questioning every decision she had ever made in her life, a look that the blonde didn’t seem to catch on.

Ellie found it increasingly difficult to focus on the mindless dares and ridiculous questions being thrown around, her brain enveloped in a cloud of weed-induced haze. The substance in her system had relaxed her muscles to the extent that she felt like she was constantly on the verge of having an ‘accident.��

“I feel like I’m gonna piss myself—Did I piss myself?” Ellie mumbled softly into Dina’s ear, her words barely audible. Dina's dark eyes darted toward her friend’s lap, discreetly scanning for any signs of wet spots on her shorts, but there was nothing. In response, she shook her head while offering Ellie a small, sympathetic shrug and a lopsided smile that conveyed reassurance, her sleek ponytail swaying gracefully with the movement.

“You’re good,” her speech was slightly slurred, her words stumbling over each other as if she was struggling to articulate.

“Feels like my bladder gave up on me,” she grumbled, the damp spot in her boxers growing increasingly irritating. She harbored an unstoppable belief that she had, in fact, peed herself. The thought was persistent, a nagging paranoia that refused to go away no matter how much her friend had reassured her otherwise.

Dina’s perfectly shaped arches furrowed as she attempted to make sense of Ellie's slowed-down speech. The combination of alcohol and weed was a little too much for Dina to handle, as she struggled to comprehend what Ellie was saying. Thankfully, her boyfriend, who was much more sober, was there to keep a watchful eye on her. “Why aren’t you wearing a diaper?” she casually inquired, as if the redhead sitting beside her had worn them before.

“Uh, no? Why would I?” Ellie mimicked Dina’s confused expression.

“Don’t you, usually?” Her face was a portrait of genuine puzzlement.

Her auburn eyebrows drew together in puzzled bewilderment as she mulled over Dina’s query for a second or two, as if she didn’t quite know the answer herself. She started to respond, “Isn’t it too soon t—” but her words trailed off, replaced by an exasperated sigh. “Be right back,” she whispered, realizing it was futile to try talking to her friend, who was as high as gas prices.

The haze of weed and alcohol made everything feel surreal, like she was wading through a thick fog. Ellie’s mind was a chaotic mess, each thought bumping into the next. She stood up, her surroundings swaying slightly as she made her way to the back of the bar, walking around it. Even though she had worked there for quite some time and had likely been aware of the door behind the counters that led to the back of the building all along, she still decided to act like a mindless artificial intelligence bot instead. 

You watched Ellie attentively, your eyes trailing her every move. The perfect excuse to get up from the circle was getting more beer. Ryan, ever eager, immediately offered to help, seizing the opportunity to be alone with you. 

But God, who the fuck wanted his disgusting hands all over you?

Ryan was a means to an end, nothing more. You needed him for the weed, and you planned to ghost him the second you didn’t need him anymore. Weed was weed, and you’d do anything for free joints, spinning promises you had no intention of keeping. But guilt? That was a foreign concept to you. Playing people was your specialty: using them, manipulating them, treating men like him like obedient, panting pups. They were so eager, so desperate for your attention, that they'd leap at the chance to please you, dancing to your every whim. You took delight in their stupidity, toying with them to your liking. It was all fun until you got bored; then you’d dump them without a second thought, leaving them to wonder what they did wrong. 

They were all the same. No one ever stood out to you; each encounter a cold calculation. Men like Ryan were just pawns, easily replaceable, utterly expendable, tools to be used and discarded. You enjoyed the control, how they bent to your will, the thrill of watching them scramble for your approval.

Your mind, slightly hazy from the weed and alcohol, felt both razor-sharp and wonderfully numb. You didn’t exactly know what you were thinking as your hand hovered hesitantly over the doorknob leading to the back of the bar. You looked over your shoulder to ensure no one saw you slip through the door.

You stepped out just as Ellie stumbled out of the bathroom, her movements faltering briefly when she laid eyes on you. While in the bathroom, she realized that she wasn’t going to piss herself; she was just fucking horny from all the weed she had smoked—it always had that effect on her—and seeing you made the effects even worse. Her green eyes widened for a moment, resembling a cat's eyes caught in the headlights rather than those of a deer. However, she swiftly recomposed herself, continuing to walk without acknowledging your presence. As if you didn't exist, as if she couldn't see you.

“Hey,” You called out, your voice cutting through the damp night air, but Ellie ignored you. Her steps quickened as she walked past you, her gaze fixed ahead as if you were a mere ghost haunting her path. Conversations between you two had never been normal. She was high as hell and enjoying herself for once; the last thing she wanted was another night ruined by your incessant arguing and your inability to grasp the concept of kindness. With determined steps, Ellie headed for the door that led inside the bar, your eyes lingering on the intricate tattoo on her forearm, which reached for the handle with purpose.

Just as Ellie’s fingers glided over the cold metal, your hand grasped her other arm forcefully, the strength surprising even yourself. With a sudden, harsh move, you slammed her against the wall. “What the fuu-” she cursed under her breath as she flinched at the sudden impact of her back against the brick wall, but you abruptly silenced her. You detested being ignored more than anything else. You were accustomed to always receiving attention, with people hanging on your every word and making you the focus of their world. The sensation of being ignored felt completely alien to you.

“I said hey,” You repeated, this time your voice was harsher. Ellie’s eyes, a mesmerizing shade of green, seemed to sparkle in the moonlight, resembling glistening emeralds. Her dilated pupils looked like deep black voids that threatened to swallow you whole. Despite the visible signs of confusion and irritation on her face, an unmistakable sense of intrigue emanated from her, one that didn't go unnoticed by you, and a sly smirk played at the corner of your lips in response.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you.” She retorted, annoyed and sarcastic, though her voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper.

“Yeah? Didn’t seem like it,” you quipped, flashing a mischievous smile as you leaned closer, effectively trapping her against the wall. Your body hovered over hers, your arm positioned menacingly next to her head, the gap between you growing increasingly smaller. Ellie felt a lump form in her throat as she swallowed nervously, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of her chest. Her hands trembled at the sudden proximity, and her breath caught in her throat. She leaned against the wall, her body flattened as if trying to put as much space as she could between the two of you by melding into it. The distance between you had never been this small, your body practically looming over hers, encasing her against the wall. Her mind spun as your scent filled her nostrils, a dizzying mix of musk and something else that drove her insane; pheromones, perhaps? “What, you ignoring me now?” 

“No, ‘m no-”

“Yes, you are,” Your intense gaze made her skin tingle, as if deciphering her every thought and emotion swirling in her mind, “Don’t you wanna talk to me?” Your voice took on an innocent, almost petulant tone as you pouted, sticking out your lower lip and batting your eyelashes at her. 

The dim light cast long shadows, dancing across the rough brick wall. The scent of sweat, alcohol, weed, and something else—something electric—filled the space between you. 

“I don’t wanna argue,” the aburnette immediately replied, sighing as if to release the tension that had been building up in her system only due to your closeness. It was crazy how much power you had over her despite her trying to convince herself that she despised you because of your ugly attitude.

“Oh, baby, I don't wanna fight either.” Ellie's heart raced as she struggled to process the pet name that effortlessly rolled off your tongue. Her eyes frantically scanned her surroundings, longing for an exit that simply wasn't there. She could have easily distanced herself from you, pushed you away even, but she found herself drawn to the attention and the intimacy, both captivated and unsettled by the closeness. The warmth emanating from your body enveloped her, and the sheer force of your presence overwhelmed her senses. As her pulse quickened, the rhythm of each beat echoed loudly in her ears. Just as Ellie started to gather her thoughts, you gently lifted her chin, compelling her to meet your gaze. A delicate auburn strand of hair fell across her face, “Did you like it?” you suddenly interrogated her, reaching out to gently tuck the stray strand behind her ear.

“Like what?” she questioned back, her brow furrowed in confusion. Her voice sounded weak, and you could sense how your words made her feel small, even though it had nothing to do with height.

“The kiss—is she a good kisser?” your gaze fixed on her lips as your thumb traced a gentle path over her bottom lip.

Ellie let out a disapproving tsk as she pulled her face out of your grasp, causing your hand to drop limply to your side. “Why do you care?” Her question prompted you to glance back into her eyes. She was surprised by the intense yet gentle expression on your face. For once, you weren’t shouting at her, teasing her, or being a bitch.

“‘Cause I think you could do so much better,”

She couldn't fathom the words you were speaking or understand why you were studying her every detail as if inspecting a precious work of art, gazing at her as if she were a masterpiece rather than an inferior being. It made the freckled girl’s stomach twist with excitement and nervousness. A blush crept across her star-speckled cheeks as your eyes found their way back to her lips, and she unconsciously ran her tongue over them. It was at that moment that you leaned in, pressing your plump lips against hers in a hungry, demanding kiss.

As your lips met hers, Ellie felt like she was about to dissolve into a puddle. The texture of your lips was indescribably soft, almost as if they were crafted specifically for her. Initially, she was too stunned to reciprocate the kiss; her eyes widened in shock, resembling those of a startled cat thrown in a bathtub. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, it felt as though her heart had ceased to beat; she was certain that if a doctor had measured her pulse at that instant, they would have deemed her deceased.

It took her a few moments to process the reality of the situation. The girl she had been pining over for ages—and that also made her life miserable—was kissing her. She couldn't be certain whether it was the effect of the weed she had consumed—perhaps she had blacked out in the bathroom, and all of this was simply a figment of her imagination—but as soon as Ellie felt your gentle hands drawing her in closer by the waist, she was certain that it was all too real.

She could feel your heartbeat, the heat emanating off your skin, your lips moving against hers. It was like stepping into a new world where everything was heightened and vivid. Your lips, soft and inviting, moved with a grace that left the green-eyed girl breathless. She felt like she was floating, untethered from reality, anchored only by the warmth of your touch. It felt right.

Ellie’s mind raced, thoughts colliding in a frenzy of disbelief and euphoria. How could this be happening? She had spent countless nights dreaming of this moment, and now it was unfolding before her.

Slowly, Ellie’s initial shock faded away, replaced by a surge of boldness. She began to kiss you back, tentatively at first, then with increasing confidence. Her pale hands gripped your face, pulling you impossibly closer, their touch greedy and desperate. She tried to push you off, to reverse the roles, but you pushed her right back against the wall, pinning her in place. Both of you craved control, the conflict only adding to the intensity of your interactions. Neither of you was willing to give up easily, the power play making everything so intoxicating. Ellie sought to put you in your place, to dominate you for once, while you had another fantasy in mind—to see her writhing and squirming under your touch, completely submitted to you. 

Her kisses were fierce and hungry, as if she hadn't tasted anything in days, and you were her first meal. Your lips muffled every delightful sound that escaped her, only serving to make you smile. Her hands tugged at any piece of fabric they could reach—the loops of your shorts, the laces of your bikini—as if trying to bring you even closer. She wanted you desperately, and you knew it. 

You had always known. When you weren't looking, Ellie had been looking. Her fern-green gaze would devour your exposed skin at the pool, filled with an intensity that could not be ignored.

The confirmation that it wasn't just a one-sided desire made you feel all giddy. From the moment she had accidentally bumped into you on the first day of college, you had wanted her. When summer approached and the prospect of more time away from your judgmental friends became a reality, you saw an opportunity. You asked Dina to help recruit more employees, promising her a slight raise in pay. Despite the plan being less than fool-proof and unlikely to succeed, it somehow unfolded exactly how you hoped it would.

Ellie’s breaths came in ragged gasps between the kisses, each one deepening the connection, fueling the fire between you. You could feel her trembling, the tension in her body creating a delightful contrast with the softness of her skin under your touch. Your hands traced the contours of her waist and the subtle dip of her back. Each touch sent a shiver through her, her body responding to your every caress as if it had been waiting for this moment, craving your touch. Her hands emulated your movements, exploring every inch of your body as if she were attempting to commit each curve and line to memory.

You pressed your thigh between her legs, and you swore you could feel the heat of her cunt through the fabric. Ellie’s response was immediate, a moan that vibrated against your mouth as her hips rocked against you in an involuntary, desperate attempt to find friction. The feminine urge to push her further, to test her limits, to make her beg for more almost overwhelmed you.

But Ellie refused to surrender, kissing you harder, more urgently, trying to take control. Her hands found their way to your hair, pulling you closer, her nails slightly scraping your scalp in a way that was both painful and pleasurable, eliciting a moan from you. But you stood your ground, pushing back, your hands gripping her hips tightly, keeping her in place.

You broke the kiss to trail your lips along her jawline and neck, the movement eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her. She leaned her head back against the wall, breathing heavily and unevenly as your hand slipped beneath her white T-shirt. You felt the muscles of her abdomen contract under your touch.

You were almost certain you had never seen her with her shirt off, not even when she was working. She always wore T-shirts and those red, men's style swim trunks when working. Perhaps you had caught a glimpse of her in a sports bra a time or two, but certainly never any more than that. You couldn't understand why Ellie hid so much. If only she could see herself; she was legitimately beautiful, her body toned and strong. But you could never tell under those slightly baggy shirts she always wore. 

Your hand pulled the hem of her shirt up to expose her abdomen as you knelt down, your mouth moving over her stomach, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin, eliciting exaggerated gasps and shudders from her, as if her body had never received the right attention before. 

But as your fingers grazed the waistband of her cargo pants, Ellie suddenly snapped out of her trance, realizing that you were out in the open and at risk of being caught. Her hand pressed against your shoulder, trying to push you away and stop you. You looked up at her, meeting her gaze, her eyes wide and dark and her pupils dilated with desire and tinged with fear. 

“W-we can’t, not here,” Her voice trembled as she spoke, barely above a whisper. Your head tilted, your eyes wide and innocent, your lashes almost touching your brows. Disappointment etched itself across your face, your forehead wrinkled in a frown so adorable that it made it even more difficult for her to deny you. Your expression conveyed a sense of need, of vulnerability, like you were completely dependent on her and needed her. It tugged at Ellie’s heartstrings, making her want to give in immediately.

“No one will see us,” You tried to reassure her, your fingers toying with the waistband of her shorts, but she intercepted your hands, stopping you once more. You huffed in frustration, your gaze flickering to the restroom on your left, then back to her face, hoping she would catch the hint. 

Several minutes later, Ellie found herself perched on the toilet seat, legs spread wide with you kneeling in front of her. The white fabric of her shirt was trapped between her teeth, her desperate attempt to muffle her soft moans proving futile. Ellie’s cheeks were flushed, and the scattered freckles that dusted her damp skin stood out vividly against the pink hue. Her brows were scrunched in pleasure and concentration; her eyes rolled to the back of her cranium before squeezing them shut, trying to chase her third orgasm already.

The sight of Ellie’s sports bra peeking from underneath her shirt and her tensed, toned abs had you drooling all over her pussy. You stared at the aburn-haired girl almost in a trance, captivated by her body as if she were your muse. Her abs were like a sculptor’s masterpiece. Your eyes traced the outline of her bra, the way it clung to her, wishing you could take it off, but you were too impatient to feel her cumming in your mouth again to do that, and you sure as hell weren't going to pull away. Maybe another time.

You could sense every fiber of her being, her body speaking a language you were fluent in that told you exactly what she craved. Your tongue, a delicate pink ribbon, traced her sopping slit with deliberate care, teasing, tasting, before zeroing in on that needy bundle of nerves that demanded your attention, a stifled whine escaping her mouth. Her moans grew louder, each one urging you on.

You devoured Ellie’s saccharine essence like a starved beast, your eyes locked onto her with the intensity of a tiger stalking its prey. Her expressions, a symphony of pleasure and desperation, were a masterpiece you couldn't look away from, your gaze drinking in every nuance of her expression, reveling in her artistry. And it was all for you. The mere thought of that made your cunt twitch in your bikini, which was now completely soaked; its sleek black fabric covered by translucent honey—not for everyone to see.

You danced between flicks of your tongue and alternating gentle, then demanding sucks. Ellie’s clit pulsed wildly in your mouth, her juices anointing your chin like a sacred nectar. She was the best thing you had ever had, not that you would ever admit it out loud to her.

Ellie’s moans were music to your ears, fucking divine, a soundtrack that was most likely going to play at the back of your mind while pleasuring yourself later on whenever you'd go back home. One of her thighs draped over your shoulder, her leg a soft but firm anchor as you wrapped your arm under the other, pulling her closer. Her taste, her very essence, was all-consuming, and you couldn’t get enough. 

Ellie’s teeth finally released the white fabric of her shirt, allowing it to fall back over her toned stomach, her lips swollen and a dazed look in her eyes. “G’na... fuuuuck…” she stammered, the words tumbling out in a deliciously incoherent mix of pleasure and haze, her mind too foggy to form a coherent thought. Ellie was completely lost in every flick of your tongue and every hungry suck on her swollen clit. 

You smirked against her, slapping the side of her thigh harshly, right over the pink imprint of your hand already etched into her skin. The sting made her whimper and jerk away from your mouth, but your grip on her thigh brought her back where she belonged. You had made a mess of the green-eyed girl, and stopping was the last thing on your mind, especially with her third orgasm looming. 

You were just getting started.

You hummed into her, the vibrations drawing little gasps from Ellie's mouth. You didn't stop. Even when her body couldn't take it anymore and silently pleaded for you to let go, you kept going, taking everything you could from her. Your tongue and lips were relentless, sucking harshly as she squirmed on the white toilet seat, trying weakly to push you away. Her hand at the top of your head was a feeble attempt to escape and move you away from her core, slow you down perhaps, but you didn't budge.

Ellie cried out, her voice breaking into whines as if she were on the verge of tears, your relentless moans against her clit only pushing her further. Despite her desperate warnings that she couldn’t take any more, you didn't stop until a warm flush sprayed against your face, making you pull away instinctively.

The thunderous booms and crackles of the fireworks outside were deafening, drowning out her loud cries and whimpers. Each burst of color and light in the sky timed up perfectly with the waves of ecstasy coursing through her body.

Ellie’s body trembled, her muscles twitching in the aftermath. You looked up at her, eyes glazed with satisfaction, licking your lips and savoring her taste. She was a beautiful wreck, panting heavily, her chest heaving with each breath.

“Did you just—” You glanced down at the glistening pool of her juices on the bathroom floor, eyes lingering on the sight for a moment before looking back up at her. Her cheeks were flushed a deep, rosy red, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She exhaled shakily, the color on her face intensifying as embarrassment crept in. 

The thin layer of sweat on Ellie’s forehead caused her baby hairs to cling to her skin, sticking to the sides of her face. You pulled back, running the back of your hand over your mouth and chin, wiping away the slick evidence from your face. 

“Yeah,” she gasped, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“Didn’t think you were a squirter,” you snorted, your hand coming up to gently stroke her thigh as she sat up on the toilet seat.

“Me neither,” Ellie admitted, her response causing your eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. A sense of satisfaction and pride filled your chest, knowing you were the one who had drawn that intense orgasm from her. As your eyes met, a giggle of contentment escaped your lips.

But the intimacy was suddenly interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Both of you tensed up, eyes widening in alarm at the unexpected disturbance.

“Ellie? You in there?” Dina's voice cut through the heavy atmosphere, her once-slurred words sounding slightly more coherent, likely due to Jesse's intervention in getting her to sober up. The sound of her words was a sudden disturbance, like a splash of cold water that jerked you and Ellie back to reality. You exchanged a hesitant look, both of you struggling to collect yourselves and regain composure

She hastily put her boxers and pants back on, scrambling to get dressed and compose herself. “Yeah, just give me a minute,” she called out hurriedly to Dina, her heart still racing from the recent encounter and the fear of getting caught.

Dina's voice sounded more concerned now, the sound of her trying to open the door sending a jolt of panic through Ellie. “Everything okay?” she asked. “Jesse and I are about to leave.”

“Yeah, shit,” Ellie muttered curses under her breath as you helped her tidy up, both of you scrambling to look presentable. She darted to the sink to clean her face, her voice trembling with nervousness as she lied to Dina, cursing the weed and blaming it for her nausea. Meanwhile, Dina stood outside the bathroom, her ear pressed against the door as she listened intently to the movement and sounds coming from inside.

She tried to open the door again, her interest piqued by the sounds of whispering and rustling coming from inside. “You okay?” she pried. The doorknob rattled loudly, but fortunately, you had secured the door earlier, preventing any potential intrusion. “Need me to come in?”

Ellie’s response was hurried and slightly panicked as she said, “No, no! I’m good, I’m good.” A short while later, the door opened, and a slightly disheveled Ellie emerged with a wide smile, approaching Dina, who looked puzzled and somewhat intoxicated. With her arms crossed, Dina scrutinized her best friend’s appearance, struggling to form a coherent thought.

“Are you okay?” the honey-eyed girl inquired, giving Ellie a once-over and attempting to peek behind her. But she promptly blocked her path.

“I’m feeling fantastic,” Ellie exclaimed with a wide grin, breezing past Dina and narrowly avoiding a collision as she gently guided her away from the doorway. With a quick flick of her wrist, she securely locked the door behind her. “Are you all set to head out?” she asked eagerly, striding off as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, trying to leave the situation behind her.

You heard Dina's footsteps fading into the summer night alive with the sounds of crickets, fireworks, and distant laughter; you let out a long, deep sigh of relief, feeling the cool tiles against your bare back, gradually easing away the tension and anxiety that had built up. 

As you stepped out of the bathroom, the bar’s dim lighting and background chatter enveloped you once more. You spotted Ellie and Dina near the exit, Dina’s arm around Ellie’s shoulders as they prepared to leave. Ellie glanced back at you, a secretive smile playing on her lips, and you knew that this night had changed everything.

[no-passaran]

33-year-old Ugandan marathon athlete Rebecca Cheptegei, who competed in this summer's Paris Olympic Games, has been killed by her ex-boyfriend. He doused her in petrol, set her on fire and burned her alive when she came back from church with her two daughters.

Gender-based violence is a major concern in Kenya, where Cheptegei lived and worked. In 2022, at least 34% of women in Kenya said they had experienced physical violence, according to a national survey.

Her death comes after the killings of fellow East African athletes Agnes Tirop in 2021 and Damaris Mutua in 2022, with their partners identified as the main suspects in both cases by the authorities.

Our thoughts are with her family, who are left without their loving relative and the family's main breadwinner.

[inamindfarfaraway]

There's Selina Kyle and Holly Robinson as well, if you want a character with that trauma in Gotham! They've both been protective mentors, protectors and gang leaders to the homeless children of the East End (the area containing Crime Alley) at different times in canon, running the Alleytown Kids/Strays, while Jason has never done anything of the sort to Crime Alley kids in canon.

im also at a point where if someone tries to derail criticism about how male characters are often gifted trauma in fandom from the female characters with actual trauma in canon with “not my fault those female characters aren’t popular/interesting” instead of. reflecting about why they’d rather make up shit for a dude than care about a woman. with just. straight violence.

[paxtito]

childhood sweethearts

pairings: tara x reader (g!p)

word count: 7815

warnings: smut 18+, high tension, swearing, cunilingus, fingering, p in v, alcohol

summary: you and tara are childhood sweethearts, inseparable. so much so that you live with her and sam, but there’s more that friendship brewing under the surface

a/n: this was meant to be a tooth-rotting fluffy fic yet it ended up with smut, i just can’t help myself 😞 apologies in advance for any mistakes

MASTERLIST

Living with Tara and Sam has always felt like living in two different worlds. Tara’s your best friend—has been since forever. She’s the one who shares late-night movie marathons with you, and who can talk you into midnight snack raids like it’s nothing. You know everything about her, from the way she crinkles her nose when something’s funny, to the way she absentmindedly tugs her sleeves over her hands when she’s deep in thought. Tara’s the person who’s always there, the one who feels like home.

And then there’s Sam.

She’s… different. More guarded, quiet. After everything she’s been through, she has walls up, and though she’s been trying to let them down, it’s a slow process. You respect that. Living with her is a different rhythm, and at times it feels like you’re navigating around invisible lines, trying not to step on any of the shadows she carries.

But it’s a balance you’re used to now. Your days are filled with Tara’s laugh and Sam’s quiet presence. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Tonight, the three of you are scattered across the living room, a comfort zone you’ve created together, cozy and messy in the best way. You and Tara are sprawled on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between you, eyes glued to a rerun of some B-grade horror movie that’s more funny than scary. Sam’s sitting in the armchair nearby, flipping through a magazine, occasionally glancing up at the screen with an amused shake of her head.

“Look at that,” Tara laughs, pointing to the screen. “They’re literally running toward the killer. Who does that?”

You chuckle, nudging her. “Maybe they’re just really dedicated to the plot. Can’t let the killer down, right?”

She rolls her eyes, snatching the popcorn bowl and tossing a handful at you. You pretend to be outraged, grabbing a stray piece off the floor and flicking it back at her.

“Hey, no food fights,” Sam calls, her tone light but with that big-sister authority that keeps both of you in line. She smirks, glancing at the mess of popcorn now littering the floor. “I’m not cleaning that up.”

Tara shoots her a mischievous grin. “Come on, Sam, live a little. It’s just popcorn.”

You can’t help but join in, giving Sam a mock-serious look. “Yeah, Sam, loosen up. Tara and I are just getting started.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on her face. It’s moments like this, when her walls come down and she’s just Sam, just your family, that you feel the warmth of this makeshift home settle deep inside you.

As the movie goes on, Tara gradually ends up with her head on your shoulder, her eyes starting to droop. It’s not long before her breathing evens out, and you realize she’s fallen asleep, curled up against you in that way she always does when she’s completely comfortable.

You glance over at Sam, catching her watching the two of you. There’s a softness in her gaze, a hint of relief that her sister’s safe, that she’s surrounded by people who love her.

“She always falls asleep first,” Sam murmurs, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

You nod, careful not to disturb Tara. “Some things never change.”

There’s a quiet between you and Sam now, an unspoken understanding that’s settled in over the years. Tara’s not just your best friend—she’s family, and so is Sam, in her own way. You’d do anything to protect them, and they know it.

After a moment, Sam gets up, stretching as she glances toward the clock. “I’ll grab a blanket,” she says, her voice soft. “You two are just going to stay there, right?”

You smile, nodding as you settle in a little deeper. “Yeah. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

Sam lingers for a moment, watching you both with that quiet intensity of hers. Then she gives a small nod, almost as if she’s giving her blessing. “Thanks for… sticking with us,” she says, her voice low, and you know she’s not just talking about tonight.

“Anytime,” you say, meaning it.

She leaves the room, and you feel Tara’s head nestle further into your shoulder, her small, content sigh the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. It’s one of those moments that feel perfectly right, like everything has fallen into place. The world outside might be complicated, full of ups and downs, but here, with Tara asleep beside you and Sam watching over both of you, it feels like you’ve found something rare—a family you’ve chosen, one that’s chosen you back.

As Sam returns with a soft blanket, you gently shift Tara to a more comfortable position. She stirs slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but doesn't wake. With practiced ease, you drape the blanket over her, tucking it around her shoulders.

Sam watches, a small smile playing on her lips. "She's lucky," she says quietly, meeting your gaze. "To have you."

There's a weight to her words, a depth of meaning that you don't quite know how to untangle. Instead, you simply nod, feeling an unexpected lump form in your throat.

"We're lucky," you manage, your voice coming out rougher than you intended. "Both of us."

Sam's smile widens, and for a moment, her walls seem to drop, revealing the warmth that's always lurked beneath. "Yeah," she agrees softly.

You look back to Tara, her face peaceful in sleep, and feel a surge of protectiveness wash over you. No matter what comes, you'll always be there for her, just as she's always been there for you.

As if sensing your thoughts, Tara shifts again, her hand reaching out to find yours. Her fingers twine with yours, and she sighs contentedly, burrowing closer.

"She's got a good grip," Sam observes, a note of humor in her voice. "You might be stuck there for a while."

You laugh softly, squeezing Tara's hand. "I don't mind," you say, and it's true. There's nowhere else you'd rather be.

Sam nods, her expression softening. "I know," she says, and there's a certainty in her voice that makes you feel warm all over. "I know."

The movie plays on, the credits rolling, but neither of you pay attention. Instead, you sit there, Tara sleeping between you, and let the moment stretch out, savoring the peace and the quiet and the knowledge that, no matter what happens, you'll always have each other.

ime passes in a blur of contentment, the minutes ticking by as Tara sleeps, safe and warm between you and Sam. The movie long since ended, the room is bathed in the soft glow of the muted TV, the only sound Tara's gentle breathing.

It's hard to say how long you sit there, lost in thought and memories, but eventually, a slight stirring from Tara brings you back to the present. She shifts, her hand tightening around yours as she blinks open sleepy eyes.

"Hey," she murmurs, her voice husky with sleep. She looks up at you, then at Sam, confusion slowly clearing from her features as she takes in her surroundings. "Did I fall asleep?"

You smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Yeah, you did. It was adorable."

Tara laughs, a soft, sleepy sound. She sits up, rubbing at her eyes, and you can't help but watch her, marveling at the way the light catches in her hair, at the curve of her smile.

"What time is it?" she asks, yawning widely.

Sam glances at the clock. "Almost midnight," she says. "You've been out for a few hours.

Tara stretches, arching her back in a way that makes your breath catch. "Wow," she says, grinning. "Guess I needed it."

She turns to you, her gaze soft. "Thanks for letting me crash on you," she says, her voice low and intimate.

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a blush rising to your cheeks. "Anytime," you manage, your voice coming out rougher than you intended.

Tara's smile widens, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has fallen away, like it's just the two of you, lost in each other's eyes.

Sam clears her throat, and you jolt back to reality, realizing how long you've been staring at each other. Tara laughs, breaking the spell, and you feel a rush of relief mixed with disappointment.

Tara stretches again, her shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. She's always been beautiful, but there's something about the way she looks right now, sleep-rumpled and soft, that makes your heart race.

"I should probably get to bed," she says, standing up and smoothing down her clothes. "Early class tomorrow."

You nod, trying to hide the disappointment on your face. "Yeah, of course."

She smiles at you, a quick, playful thing. "Night, Y/N," she says, and before you can respond, she leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek.

It's over in an instant, but the warmth of her lips lingers long after she's gone, a ghost of sensation that makes your skin tingle.

Sam raises an eyebrow as Tara disappears down the hall. "Well," she says, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something you can't quite identify. "That was... unexpected."

You feel your face heat, and you're suddenly very interested in the popcorn bowl in your lap. "Yeah," you manage, clearing your throat.

Sam doesn't push, but you can feel her gaze on you, assessing, considering. You're not sure what she sees, but you know it's something that goes beyond mere friendship, something that you're not quite ready to put a name to.

"I'm going to bed too," Sam says finally, standing up and stretching. "You're welcome to stay and finish the movie if you want."

You nod, giving her a small smile. "Thanks," you say. "I think I'll just... clean up a bit and then head to my room."

Sam nods, giving you a quick, companionable hug before heading off to her own bedroom. You're left alone in the living room, the ghost of Tara's kiss still tingling on your skin.

As you gather up the empty popcorn bowl and soda cans, your mind wanders to Tara, to the way she looked at you, the way she smiled. You know there's something there, something more than just friendship.

With the living room tidied up, you head to your bedroom, your mind still reeling from Tara's surprise kiss. The soft glow of your bedside lamp illuminates the room as you start your nightly routine, washing your face and brushing your teeth.

As you slip into your pajamas, you can't help but think about Tara, about the way her lips felt against your skin, the way her eyes sparkled in the dim light. You know you shouldn't read too much into it, but you can't help the flutter in your chest, the warmth that spreads through your veins at the memory.

You climb into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin, and stare at the ceiling. Your mind races with thoughts of Tara, of the moments you've shared, the laughter and the tears and everything in between. You've always had a special bond, but lately, it seems to have shifted, grown into something deeper, more intense.

You close your eyes, trying to will yourself to sleep, but your mind won't quiet. You remember the way Tara looked at you, the heat in her gaze, the unspoken promise in her smile. You wonder what it would be like to kiss her for real, to feel her body pressed against yours, to lose yourself in the taste and the touch and the feel of her.

—

You jolt awake to the sound of raised voices, your heart pounding in your chest. For a moment, you're disoriented, unsure of where you are or what's happening. But then the familiar sounds of Tara and Sam arguing filter through the haze of sleep, and you relax slightly.

"I'm serious, Tara," Sam's voice comes, tight with frustration. "You can't just leave your dishes in the sink for days on end. It's gross."

"Oh, please," Tara scoffs, her voice muffled by the closed door. "It's not like there's anything growing in there. And besides, it's not like you're some perfect housekeeper."

You hear a huff of annoyance, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening and closing. "Just because I don't leave my dishes in the sink doesn't mean I'm perfect," Sam says, her voice calmer now. "I'm just asking you to be considerate."

There's a pause, and you can picture Tara rolling her eyes, her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest. "Fine," she says finally, the word dragged out of her reluctantly. "Y/N will clean them- Y/N!!” She shouts, calling out to you.

You groan, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you stumble out of bed. The argument between Tara and Sam is still going strong, and you can't help but smile slightly at their bickering. It's a familiar sound, one that's been a constant background noise to your life for as long as you can remember.

You make your way to the kitchen, yawning as you enter the fray. Tara's standing by the sink, her arms crossed and a mutinous expression on her face. Sam's at the counter, her arms full of dirty dishes.

"Morning, sunshine," Tara says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Ready to play maid?"

You roll your eyes, taking the dishes from Sam and setting them in the sink. "Why am I not surprised to find you two fighting over chores?" you ask, turning on the water and squirting some dish soap into the basin.

Tara huffs, picking up a sponge and starting to scrub at a particularly stubborn spot. "It's not fair," she grumbles. "Why do I have to do all the work?"

You just shake your head, starting to wash the dishes. "Because you left them in the sink for days," you say, your tone mild. "And because Sam asked you nicely to clean them, and you said you would."

Tara's scowl deepens, and she thrusts the sponge at you. "Here," she says, her voice tight. "You do it, then."

You take the sponge, a grin tugging at your lips. "Fine," you say, and before she can react, you flick a bit of soapy water at her.

Tara yelps, dropping the sponge and glaring at you. "Oh, you're on," she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She grabs another sponge and starts chasing you around the kitchen, flicking soapy water everywhere.

You laugh, dodging her attempts to splash you. "Tara, stop!" you gasp, trying to dodge another spray of water. "You're making a mess!"

Tara ignores your pleas, too caught up in the impromptu soapy water fight. She corners you by the fridge, a triumphant grin on her face as she raises her sponge threateningly.

"Gotcha now!" she crows, but before she can strike, you lunge forward, tackling her to the ground. You end up in a tangle of limbs, both of you gasping for breath and covered in suds.

For a moment, you just stare at each other, your faces inches apart, the rest of the world fading away. Tara's eyes are wide, her cheeks flushed, and you feel your heart skip a beat at the sight of her.

Then, as if a spell has been broken, you both burst into laughter, the tension dissipating like the bubbles around you. Tara rolls to the side, wiping sudsy water from her eyes.

"Okay, okay," she says, holding up her hands in surrender. "Truce."

You nod, accepting her offer, and help her to her feet. You're both covered in soap and water, your hair plastered to your heads, but you don't care. For a moment, you just stand there, breathing heavily, exchanging grins.

Then, as if remembering the presence of the other person in the room, you both turn to look at Sam. She's leaning against the counter, her arms crossed and a bemused expression on her face.

"Really, you two?" she says, shaking her head. "I leave you alone for five minutes, and you're making a mess of the kitchen?"

You and Tara exchange a guilty glance, then look back at Sam, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you say, trying to sound contrite but failing miserably.

Sam sighs, but there's a smile tugging at her lips. "Just... finish cleaning up, okay?" she says, pushing off the counter and heading out of the kitchen. "And try to keep the water on the dishes, not on each other."

You and Tara watch her go, then turn back to each other, laughing softly. "Come on," you say, picking up a sponge and tossing it to Tara.

Tara catches the sponge, grinning at you as she starts scrubbing at the dishes again. You join her, working in companionable silence for a few minutes. The suds slide over the plates and bowls, leaving them clean and sparkling.

"You know," Tara says, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, "if you wanted to get me wet, there are easier ways than a soapy water fight."

You nearly drop the plate you're washing, your face flushing hot. "Tara!" you gasp, sputtering for words. "You can't just say things like that!"

You chuckle, shaking your head at her antics. “To be fair, that was a good one.” You say, holding your soapy fist out for a fist bump.

Tara laughs, bumping her fist against yours, sending suds flying. "Thanks," she says, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "I've been practicing."

You roll your eyes, but you can't keep the smile off your face. Tara's always been like this - quick-witted, playful, unafraid to push boundaries. It's one of the things you love about her, even if it sometimes drives you crazy.

Tara's eyes light up as she leans forward, her sandwich forgotten. "Oh my god, Y/N, there's this party coming up. It's like, a big fancy dress thing. Everyone who's anyone will be there."

She's practically bouncing in her seat, her excitement palpable. You can't help but smile at her enthusiasm, even as a small part of you wonders if this is really a good idea.

"That sounds... interesting," you say cautiously, trying to gauge her reaction. "Are you sure you want to go? I mean, after everything that's happened..."

Tara waves a hand dismissively, her smile never faltering. "That's exactly why we should go," she says, her voice earnest. "We can't let what happened define us, you know? We need to live our lives."

There's a glint in her eye as she turns to you, her smile turning sly. "Besides," she says, her voice lowering conspiratorially, "it'll be a chance for us to dress up, look hot, and show everyone that we're not going to be pushed around."

Tara's eyes sparkle with excitement as she leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's go shopping tomorrow," she suggests, her fingers brushing against your arm in a gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. "We can find the perfect outfits, something that'll really turn heads."

You hesitate, biting your lip as you consider her proposal. On one hand, the idea of spending the day with Tara, of picking out costumes and imagining how you'll look together... it's tempting. But on the other hand, you can't help but worry about the implications. Going to a party together, dressing up in matching outfits... it would send a message, one that you're not sure you're ready to confront.

"I don't know, Tara," you say finally, your voice hesitant. "Isn't that a bit... much? I mean, we've never really done anything like that before."

Tara's smile never wavers, and she shrugs, her eyes never leaving yours. "So? That's exactly why we should do it," she says, her voice low and persuasive. "It'll be fun, Y/N. Trust me."

You feel your resolve wavering under the force of her gaze, under the promise in her words. You know that Tara's not the type to back down easily, and the thought of disappointing her, of letting her down... it's not something you want to do.

"Okay," you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "Let's do it. Let's go shopping tomorrow."

Tara's grin widens, and she leans in and presses a quick, impulsive kiss to your cheek, her lips soft and warm against your skin. "Thank you," she breathes, her voice thick with emotion.

—

The next day, you find yourself being dragged through the mall by an enthusiastic Tara, her eyes bright with excitement as she pulls you from store to store. You can't help but smile at her energy, even as you feel a bit overwhelmed by the sheer variety of options available.

"Come on, Y/N," she says, tugging on your arm as she leads you into yet another shop. "This one looks promising."

You follow her inside, taking in the racks of elaborate costumes and accessories. There are superheroes and villains, fairy tale characters and historical figures, each more outlandish than the last. You can't help but feel a bit out of place, your masculine-presenting self sticking out amidst the sea of frills and glitter.

Tara, however, seems right at home. She's already rifling through the racks, her eyes sparkling with delight as she holds up various options for your inspection.

"What about this one?" she asks, holding up a rather revealing pirate costume. "We could be a swashbuckling duo, ready to take on the world."

You flush, shaking your head. "I don't think so," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's a bit too... revealing."

Tara pouts, but she doesn't argue. Instead, she moves on to the next rack, her brow furrowed in concentration. You can't help but admire the way she looks, the way her eyes light up with each new discovery.

After what feels like hours, Tara finally emerges from the racks, a triumphant grin on her face. "I found them," she says, her voice thick with excitement. "Come on, you've got to see."

You follow Tara to the back of the store, where she's standing with a grin on her face and two costumes in her hands. She holds them out to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"What do you think?" she asks, her voice low and playful. "Cowboys?"

You take the costumes from her, your heart skipping a beat as you realize what she's suggesting. The costumes are classic Western fare - faded denim jeans, checked shirts, and wide-brimmed hats. They're simple, but effective, and you can't help but imagine how you'll look together, dressed in matching outfits.

"I like it," you say finally, looking up at Tara. "It's perfect."

Tara's grin widens, and she leans in close, her body pressing against yours in a way that makes your breath catch. "Great," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let's try them on."

She takes the costumes from you, her fingers brushing against yours in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. She turns and starts to walk towards the changing rooms, her hips swaying with each step.

You follow her, your heart racing in your chest. As you step into the changing room, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation, a thrill of excitement at the thought of what's to come.

You strip off your clothes, your hands trembling slightly as you pull on the jeans and the shirt. The fabric feels strange against your skin, foreign but not unpleasant. You run your hands over the rough material, marveling at the way it feels, at the way it makes you feel.

When you're dressed, you step out of the changing room, your heart in your throat. Tara's waiting for you, her own costume looking like it was made for her. She grins when she sees you, her eyes roaming over your body in a way that makes you feel exposed, vulnerable.

"You look good," she says, her voice husky. "Really good."

You flush, your cheeks heating under her gaze. "You too," you manage, your voice coming out rougher than you intended.

Tara's grin widens, her eyes sparkling with mischief and something else, something deeper, more intense. She steps closer to you, her body almost touching yours, her hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your forehead.

"We make a pretty good pair, don't we?" she murmurs, her voice low and intimate. "Like we were made for each other."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You know you should say something, should respond, but the words catch in your throat, lost in the haze of her proximity, the warmth of her touch.

Tara's hand trails down your cheek, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw, the curve of your lips. You can feel the heat of her skin, the softness of her touch, and you have to resist the urge to lean into it, to close the distance between you.

"Y/N," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "I..."

She trails off, her gaze locked with yours, her eyes searching, questioning. You can see the uncertainty in them, the fear, the hope, and it makes your heart ache.

You reach up, your hand covering hers, your thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Tara," you say, your voice steady, sure. "I..."

You clear your throat, a forced smile spreading across your face as you pull back from Tara's touch. "So, uh, these costumes are great," you say, your voice overly cheerful, almost manic. "I can't wait to wear them to the party."

Tara blinks, her brows furrowing slightly at your sudden change in demeanor. But she recovers quickly, a smile spreading across her own face as she steps back, her hand falling away from your cheek.

"Yeah," she says, her voice a bit hesitant. "They really are perfect."

You nod, your grin widening. "Absolutely," you say, clapping your hands together. "We're going to look amazing, like we stepped right out of a Western movie."

Tara laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're such a dork," she says, but there's no bite to her words, only affection.

You shrug, playing up the goofy persona. "Hey, someone's gotta be the comedic relief," you say, winking at her. "Might as well be me."

Tara rolls her eyes, but she's grinning now, the tension from earlier dissipating like smoke in the wind. "Alright, cowgirl," she says, poking you in the chest. "Let's go pay for these bad boys and get out of here. I'm starving."

—

The night of the party arrives, and you find yourself standing in front of the mirror, adjusting your costume for what feels like the hundredth time. The jeans fit perfectly, hugging your curves in all the right places, and the shirt is soft and worn, like it's been with you for years. The hat sits at a jaunty angle on your head, completing the look.

You take a deep breath, your heart racing in your chest. You can hear the music thumping from downstairs, the sound of laughter and chatter floating up to your room. You know you should head down, should immerse yourself in the festivities, but you can't help but feel a twinge of nerves.

You turn to look at Tara, who's standing in the doorway of your room, her own costume looking like it was made for her. She grins when she sees you, her eyes roaming over your body in a way that makes your skin tingle.

"You look amazing," she says, her voice low and appreciative. "Like a real-life cowgirl."

You flush, ducking your head in a way that you hope looks cute and not embarrassed. "Thanks," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Tara laughs, stepping into the room and closing the distance between you. "Shall we?" she asks, holding out her hand to you.

You hesitate for a moment, your gaze locked with hers, before you finally take her hand, your fingers intertwining with hers. "Let's do it," you say, your voice steady, sure.

Together, you descend the stairs, the music growing louder with each step. The party is in full swing when you enter the living room, the room packed with people in elaborate costumes, dancing and laughing and drinking.

Tara leads you into the fray, her hand still in yours, her body pressed close to yours as you navigate the crowd. You can feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of your shirt, the warmth of her breath on your neck, and it makes your head spin.

As the night wears on, the alcohol flows freely, and the party takes on a hazy, surreal quality. You find yourself pulled into the whirlwind of it all, laughing and dancing and drinking until your head spins and your feet ache.

Throughout it all, Tara is by your side, her hand in yours, her body pressed close to yours. The more you drink, the more you notice the way she looks at you, the heat in her gaze, the way her fingers linger on your skin.

At some point, you find yourself in the backyard, the cool night air a welcome respite from the stuffy heat of the house. Tara leans against a tree, her head tilted back, her eyes closed. You stand next to her, your shoulder brushing against hers, the contact sending a shiver down your spine.

"Y/N," Tara slurs, her voice low and thick. "I'm so glad you came tonight."

You smile, your own words slightly slurred. "Me too," you say, leaning against the tree next to her. "It's been a really fun night."

Tara opens her eyes, turning to look at you. Her gaze is intense, focused, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. "It has," she agrees, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it's not over yet."

She reaches out, her hand cupping your cheek, her thumb brushing over your lips. You feel your heart race, your skin tingle where she touches you.

"Tara," you breathe, your voice a mix of desire and trepidation. "What are you doing?"

Tara's smile is slow, seductive. "What does it look like?" she murmurs, her hand sliding down to your neck, your collarbone. "I'm kissing you, Y/N."

And then she does, her lips pressing against yours in a searing, passionate kiss that takes your breath away. You moan into her mouth, your hands coming up to grip her waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss seems to last for an eternity, the world fading away until there's nothing but the two of you, lost in each other.

When Tara finally pulls away, you're both panting, your faces flushed and your eyes glazed. She stares at you for a long moment, her gaze searching, before she leans in again, her lips brushing against yours in a series of soft, teasing kisses.

"God, you taste good," she murmurs, her voice low and husky. "I've wanted to do that for so long."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "Tara," you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure about this? I mean, we're so drunk, and..."

Tara silences you with a finger to your lips, her eyes locking with yours. "Shh," she says, her voice gentle but firm. "Don't overthink it, Y/N. Just feel."

And then she's kissing you again, her tongue sliding against yours, her hands tangling in your hair. You moan into her mouth, your body melting against hers, your reservations fading away like mist in the morning sun.

Tara's hands slide down your back, cupping your ass and pulling you even closer. You can feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of your jeans, the hardness of her body pressing against yours.

"Fuck," Tara gasps, breaking the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. "I want you, Y/N. I want you so fucking bad."

You groan, your head falling back against the tree as Tara's mouth works its magic on your neck, your collarbone, your chest. Your hands slide under her shirt, your fingers skimming over the smooth skin of her stomach, the curve of her ribs.

You and Tara stumble out of the party, your arms wrapped around each other, your steps unsteady and your laughter echoing in the night air. You can barely keep your hands off each other, your bodies pressed close, your lips brushing against each other's skin at every opportunity.

As you make your way back to the apartment, you can't help but giggle at the absurdity of it all. Here you are, drunk and horny and in love, trying to make it through the front door without waking the sleeping beauty within.

"Quiet, quiet," Tara whispers, her voice loud enough to wake the dead. "We don't want to disturb Princess Samantha."

You snort, your hand clamping over your mouth to stifle your laughter. "Shh," you hiss, your eyes watering with mirth. "You're going to wake her up."

Tara just grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief and alcohol. "Let her sleep," she says, her voice conspiratorial. "More time for us."

You shake your head, biting your lip to keep from laughing out loud. Carefully, you unlock the door, your fingers fumbling with the key in your drunken state. Finally, you manage to get it open, and you and Tara tumble inside, your arms and legs tangled together.

You close the door as quietly as you can, your ears straining for any sound of movement from Sam's room. But all is silent, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Tara, however, is not so subtle. She grabs you around the waist, pulling you close and nuzzling your neck. "Now," she murmurs, her voice thick with desire, "where were we?"

You groan, your head falling back against the wall. "Tara," you whisper, your voice a mix of exasperation and arousal. "We can't. Not here. Sam's right there."

Tara's lips curl into a wicked grin. "So?" she breathes, her hand sliding down your back, your ass. "She's asleep. She won't know a thing.”

You hesitate for a moment, your arousal warring with your common sense. But in the end, the desire wins out, and you practically growl as you scoop Tara up in your arms, carrying her towards your bedroom.

"Y/N," Tara breathes, her arms looping around your neck, her lips trailing kisses along your jawline. "Fuck, you're so strong."

You feel a surge of pride at her words, your steps quickening as you navigate the hallway. You kick open the door to your room, your eyes never leaving Tara's face.

You lay her down on the bed gently, your body covering hers, your lips finding hers in a searing kiss. Tara moans into your mouth, her hands tangling in your hair, urging you closer.

You break the kiss, your breath coming in short pants as you trail your lips down her neck, your teeth grazing her skin. "Fuck, Tara," you murmur, your voice rough with desire. "I want you so bad."

You take your time, savoring every moment as you explore Tara's body with your hands and mouth. You trail kisses down her neck, your tongue darting out to taste her skin, to feel the flutter of her pulse beneath your lips.

Tara arches into your touch, her fingers tangling in your hair, urging you on. "Y/N," she breathes, her voice thick with desire. "Please."

You smile against her skin, your hands sliding under her shirt, skimming over the soft curves of her stomach, the dip of her waist. You can feel the heat of her skin, the way she trembles beneath your touch, and it makes your own body respond in kind.

Slowly, reverently, you peel off her shirt, exposing the creamy expanse of her breasts. You lower your head, your tongue circling one hardened nipple before you take it into your mouth, sucking gently, teasingly.

Tara gasps, her back arching off the bed, her hands fisting in the sheets. "Fuck," she moans, her voice breathy and strained. "That feels so good."

You hum in response, your mouth moving to her other breast, your hand sliding down the smooth plane of her stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of her jeans. Tara lifts her hips, helping you tug the denim down her legs, revealing the lacy black panties beneath.

You pause for a moment, your eyes roaming over the sight of her, spread out before you like a feast. "God," you murmur, your voice rough with awe. "You're so beautiful, Tara."

Tara flushes, a shy smile spreading across her face. "So are you," she whispers, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek. "So are you."

With that, you lower your head, your mouth finding the heat between her thighs, your tongue delving into her folds, tasting her essence. Tara cries out, her hips bucking against your face, her fingers tangling in your hair, holding you close.

You continue your ministrations, your tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of her. Tara's moans fill the room, her body writhing beneath you, her hands clutching at the sheets.

"Y/N," she gasps, her voice ragged. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

You have no intention of stopping. You're lost in the taste of her, the feel of her, the sounds she's making. You redouble your efforts, your tongue flicking over her clit, your fingers sliding inside her, curling against that special spot that makes her see stars.

Tara's back arches off the bed, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her orgasm crashes over her. You feel her come undone, her walls fluttering around your fingers, her essence flooding your mouth.

You don't stop, not until she's boneless and spent, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. Only then do you crawl up her body, your lips finding hers in a searing kiss.

"Fuck," Tara pants when you finally break apart. "That was incredible."

You grin, your eyes dark with desire. "We're just getting started," you murmur, your hand sliding down her body, dipping between her thighs once more.

Tara gasps, her hips bucking against your hand. "Again?" she asks, her voice breathy with anticipation. "Already?"

You just smile, your fingers teasing her entrance. "Oh, we're just getting started," you repeat, your voice low and promising. "I'm going to make you feel so good, Tara. Over and over again."

You make good on your promise, your fingers sliding inside Tara once more, curling against that special spot that makes her moan. You can feel her tightening around you, her body tensing as she gets closer and closer to the edge.

"Y/N," she gasps, her nails digging into your shoulders. "I'm so close, fuck, I'm so close."

You increase your pace, your thumb circling her clit, your fingers thrusting deeper, harder. Tara's back arches, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her orgasm crashes over her once more.

You don't stop, not until she's trembling and spent, her body limp against the sheets. Only then do you pull away, your fingers slick with her essence.

Tara looks up at you, her eyes hazy with satisfaction, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "Holy shit," she breathes, her voice hoarse. "That was... wow."

You grin, leaning down to capture her lips in a soft, tender kiss. "I told you," you murmur against her mouth. "We're just getting started."

Tara hums, her arms coming up to wrap around your neck, pulling you closer. "Then what are we waiting for?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let's keep going."

You take your time, exploring every inch of Tara's body with your hands and mouth. You map out the curves and valleys of her skin, committing every dip and swell to memory. You want to learn her, to know her, to worship her in every way possible.

Tara responds to your touch, her body arching into yours, her hands roaming over your back, your shoulders, your arms. She traces the lines of your muscles, marveling at the strength she feels beneath your skin.

"Fuck, Y/N," she moans, her voice thick with desire. "You feel so good."

You grin, your ego boosted by her praise. "So do you," you murmur, your lips trailing down her neck, your teeth grazing her collarbone. "You feel fucking incredible."

You continue your exploration, your mouth finding her breasts, your tongue circling her nipples. Tara gasps, her back arching off the bed, her fingers tangling in your hair.

"Please," she begs, her voice ragged with need. "Please, Y/N, I need you inside me."

You pause, looking up at her with hooded eyes. "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice low and rough. "Because once I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop."

Tara's grin is wicked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then don't stop," she breathes, her legs falling open in invitation. "Don't you dare stop."

With that, you position yourself between her thighs, the head of your cock nudging against her entrance. Tara's breath hitches, her hands gripping your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin.

You pause, giving her a chance to change her mind, to back out if she wants to. But she just looks up at you, her eyes filled with trust and desire, and you know there's no going back.

So you push forward, slowly, carefully, feeling her tight heat envelop you inch by delicious inch. Tara's moan is long and low, her head falling back against the pillows as you fill her completely.

Tara's moan is long and low, her head falling back against the pillows as you fill her completely. Her nails dig into your shoulders, her legs wrapping around your waist, urging you deeper.

"Fuck, Y/N," she gasps, her voice ragged with pleasure. "You feel so good inside me."

You pause for a moment, giving her a chance to adjust, to get used to the feeling of you stretching her, filling her. Then, slowly, carefully, you start to move, your hips rocking against hers in a steady, sensual rhythm.

Tara meets your movements, her hips lifting to meet yours, her body undulating beneath you. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, mixed with your combined moans and gasps, the creak of the bed beneath you.

You lean down, capturing Tara's lips in a searing kiss, your tongue delving into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her. She kisses you back fiercely, her tongue tangling with yours, her fingers sliding into your hair, holding you close.

The world falls away, narrowing down to this moment, this feeling, this connection between the two of you. You lose yourself in Tara, in the heat of her body, the taste of her skin, the sound of her moans.

You pick up the pace, your hips snapping against hers, your cock driving deeper, harder, faster. Tara's breath comes in short, sharp gasps, her nails raking down your back, her fingers digging into your ass, urging you on.

"Y/N," she pants, her voice high and tight. "Fuck, Y/N, harder, please, fuck me harder."

You oblige, your hips slamming against hers, the bed shaking beneath you, the headboard banging against the wall. Tara's moans grow louder, higher, her body tensing, her walls fluttering around you.

You don't forget, of course. As you thrust into Tara, your hand slides between your bodies, your fingers finding her clit. You rub in slow, steady circles, matching the rhythm of your hips, the pressure building with each pass.

Tara cries out, her back arching off the bed, her hips bucking against your hand, your cock. "Fuck, yes," she gasps, her voice ragged. "Right there, don't stop, please don't stop."

You don't stop, not until Tara is a writhing, moaning mess beneath you, her body trembling, her walls clenching around you. You can feel her getting closer and closer, her movements becoming more frantic, her moans more desperate.

"Y/N," she pants, her eyes locked with yours, pleading, desperate. "I'm so close, fuck, I'm so close."

You increase your pace, your fingers moving faster, harder, your cock driving deeper, deeper. Tara's moans grow louder, higher, her body tensing, her nails digging into your back.

"Come for me, Tara," you growl, your voice rough with desire. "Come on my cock, let me feel you."

With a final, keening cry, Tara comes undone, her body convulsing, her walls clamping down around you like a vice. You follow her over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you, your hips jerking, your cock pulsing inside her.

You collapse on top of her, your chest heaving, your heart pounding in your ears. Tara's arms come up to wrap around you, holding you close, her fingers tracing patterns on your back.

"Wow," she breathes, her voice soft, awed. "That was... incredible."

You wake up slowly, your body feeling deliciously sore and satisfied. It takes you a moment to realize that you're not alone in the bed, that you're wrapped around Tara, your limbs entangled with hers.

Memories of the night before flood back - the party, the drinking, the heated make out session in the backyard, the desperate, passionate lovemaking when you finally made it back to your apartment. A blush rises to your cheeks at the thought, your body tingling with residual pleasure.

You shift slightly, your leg brushing against Tara's, and she stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She smiles when she sees you, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing over your lips.

"Morning," she murmurs, her voice husky from sleep. "Last night was... wow."

You grin, leaning into her touch. "It really was," you agree, your own voice rough with sleep and satisfaction. "Definitely a night to remember."

Just then, a loud clearing of the throat breaks the moment. You both turn your heads to see Sam standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, a smirk on her face.

"Well, well, well," she drawls, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Looks like you two had quite the night."

You flush, sitting up quickly and tugging the covers up to your chin. Tara just yawns, stretching languidly, seemingly unconcerned by her sister's presence.

"Shut up, Sam," Tara grumbles, her voice still thick with sleep. "We're not doing anything wrong."

Sam just raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Could've fooled me," she says, her eyes flicking down to your rumpled clothes, your tousled hair. "You two look thoroughly fucked, if you ask me."

You feel your blush deepen, your mouth opening and closing as you try to find a response. But Sam just waves you off, her smirk never leaving her face.

"Save it," she says, shaking her head. "I don't want to hear the details. Just... try to keep it down next time… I always knew this day would come. Mindy owes me 20 bucks.”

[malereader-inserts]

Be Your Boy

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Spencer Reid x Male!Reader Summary: Spencer and you are smitten like a pair of mittens; you do wonder how your team are qualified profilers. Word Count: 1,682 A/n: I hope this read well, I feel like it's all over the place. And as a present for hitting 9K followers, sorry for the empty promises or returning, i'll be there, just when you don't expect it. All the love ❤️

You and Spencer have been dating for almost eight months; if you have ever been in a serious relationship - eight months might not be a long time or even a big deal; but it was sort of a big deal because it's eight months of dating this Doctor in secret.

It wasn't because the two of you were ashamed or embarrassed to be out in public, but there was something about the thrill of sneaking around like teenagers. Plus, it was somewhat concerning for a bunch of profilers not to even clock on to the fact that you feel like you and Spencer have been painfully obvious. It doesn't diminish the option that they do know but not getting into your business; but at the end of the day - they're not just a team, they're friends outside of work, and you guys are very close together.

"Any plans for the weekend, pretty boy?" Morgan asked Spencer, who looked up from his paperwork.

"Yeah, (Y/n) is hanging around, planning to try and do a Harry Potter marathon."

You look up upon hearing your name, Morgan looks over to you as you flash a smile and a thumbs up. Morgan simply smiles and turns back to his work. You look at your boyfriend, who stares at you, both of you (promptly) shrugging your shoulders and returning to work.

It was almost a weekly occurrence that one of you two would slip up and make it obvious that you two are dating.

"When did you start wearing hoodies?" Penelope asked Spencer, pulling on the hoodie strings as Spencer swats her hand away.

"It's (Y/n)'s."

"Oh, that's nice of him, I know you can get cold easily."

You stood behind Penelope with a baffled look that she had not connected the dots. Spencer sighs out a chuckle before changing the subject.

"Cute lockscreen."

You looked up from your phone to see JJ next to you with Emily, who peered over to look at your lock screen, which was a picture of you and Spencer with your family dog between the two of you. You could mistake it as a friend picture, but what type of friends have their temples touching and basically cuddling up together?

At this point, you gave up. It was much more funnier to see them be more confused as to why you and Spencer spend so much time together. But, sometimes, you are thankful that you and Spencer can enjoy each other's presence without being teased and hounded by your team. It was nice to have each other and be each other's escape from reality.

"So, Spencer," You hummed, lying in your apartment, which was bigger than his, "I was wondering when you wanted to move in?"

He looks at you, eyes shimmering like a child on Christmas day, his heart is thumping loudly against his chest as he can't help to feel the heat rise to his cheeks. You couldn't help but smirk at his reaction, booping his nose as a tease causing Spencer to smile so bashfully.

Your apartment was bigger than his and a lot more cosier; he was most often than not at your place, he had started bringing his stuff over and leaving at yours; slowly he was invading your home, but you loved it.

"I like the idea of that."

You shrugged your shoulders, snuggling closer to your sofa as you looked at him. Beautifully lit under the warm lamp as he read his book, and to you, he had looked like a piece of art, upon seeing him - you couldn't help but smile to yourself; wondering how you got so lucky.

Spencer thinks the world of you, from an outsider, most often not, you are the one to protect him. You were the more threatening-looking one, you were always blunt and sometimes rude, but he still thinks you are one of the most sweetest person he has ever met. You have been there for him, you know him so well, and you've been there on the days he struggled the most. You are so understanding and patient, he couldn't believe you're his boyfriend.

Like Frida Khalo said: 'Take the lover who looks at you like you’re some kind of magic.'

"You're soft," Spencer teased, lying in bed with you, you turn to look at him in the dark, and he can't help but notice that you, once again, have taken his breath away from your darling eyes.

"I'm soft?" You mused out, a slightly humourous tone to your voice, "I am soft in the way the fabric of a tattered blanket is soft. I could be ripped to shreds and still hope someone finds comfort in me."

"You are comforting," He reassures you, you let out a breathy laugh, as you bring your hand to caress his cheek.

"Oh, to be your boy, Spencer Reid," You gently say, sending shivers down his spine, tenderly placing a kiss upon his lips, "Turn over, we gotta sleep and I want to cuddle you.

"I heard that (Y/n) is ill," Morgan says during lunch break, the team sitting about around Spencer's desk.

They had noticed that Spencer have been on his phone more often than not. He looked worried sick and every hour he seemed to be checking his phone; it's not usually like him. The team were sharing concerned looks and usually, the person who could calm him down was off ill.

"Hey, Spence, are you going over to (Y/n)'s later?" JJ inquired as Spencer looked up as he heard your name, "If you don't mind, I'd like to tag along, (Y/n) isn't usually ill and I get worried sick when one of us gets sick."

"Awh," Morgan had a playful tone, "You care about us, JJ?"

"Maybe not with you," JJ playfully snapped back before looking at the young genius with a questioning look, "Well?"

"I mean, I guess?" Spencer finally responded though he debated with himself whether or not to inform you.

"Great!" Rossi says, Spencer did not know that he was listening to the whole conversation, "We can all check up on him!"

"Er.. I don't think-"

"Nonsense, Reid," Rossi interrupted, giving him a look, "You need to learn how to share."

Spencer was rendered speechless before making the decision to message you that he couldn't stop the team from tagging along with him to check up on you.

You had completely forgotten that the team was also coming along with your boyfriend, you had spent the better half of your day lying in front of the television catching up on your series as you battle the winter flu. You hear the door unlock as you tiredly sit up from the sofa.

"Babe?" You called out, though it was hoarse and you tried to clear your throat, but to no avail, you were inevitably going to lose your voice.

"I'm home, baby."

The sound of your boyfriend's voice was so comforting that you slunk back into the comfortable position on the sofa.

"Babe?"

You sat up almost immediately as you realised that was not Spencer's voice, then remembered that he had brought visitors. You internally groaned, not wanting to be putting up with the antic of your team. You slowly got up as you stood in the arch way that stood between the hallway and the living room, the blanket wrapped over you.

"What are you guys doing here?" You croaked out, it was so pitiful, you turned to look at your boyfriend helplessly. He put his hands up in defence.

"I tried to tell them no," You hummed in disapproval as Spencer sighed at your state, "You look worn out."

"'Cause I am."

He gently place a kiss upon your forehead, and you had to stop yourself from letting out a coo. You just couldn't help but slink yourself into the comfort of your boyfriend's arm.

"Hang on, you two are dating?" Emily asked, she had an offended tone and you know why she would be offended.

"I mean, we haven't exactly made it sublet," Spencer says bluntly as you snort, he looks at you with an annoyed expression but that was soon washed away and replaced with a fond expression, "I spend too much time around you."

"You love me, Spence," You teased, a playful twinkle in your eyes.

"Well, why didn't you tell us!" Morgan says afterwards, almost pouting, "I'm your best friend, Reid!"

"Like he said, we haven't made it sublet, we just didn't think we needed to tell anyone, plus Hotch knows."

"Aaron knows?" Rossi asked, surprised that their stoic team leader had not said a word about the pair of you.

"He had caught us making out in the cleaners' closet at work," You answered dryly, "He's known for about five months, we go on double dates with him and Beth every so often."

"Five months?" Penelope exclaimed, it makes sense why Hotch declined the offer to come to check up on you and it makes even bigger sense that he had teased Spencer about it afterwards.

Spencer nodded, ushering you back to the living room so you could rest, "We've been together longer than that, about eight months."

"How?"

"It was after a night out we all had, we got drunk, stupidly confessed our feelings and the rest of history, to put it short."

"Well, I don't want the short story, I want the details," JJ demanded, sitting on the other sofa that was adjacent to you as you sent a glare to Spencer.

"This is your fault," You mumbled, as Spencer rubbed your shoulder, you couldn't really be mad at him.

"You love me really..."

You really did love him and loving him was so easy. You love being his boy and you love to call him yours. Eventually, the rest of the team was going to find out about you two, at least it was now and not when you planned to propose to Spencer down the line - but, Spencer doesn't need to know that, for now anyway.

[lady-ashfade]

Favorite Jackson

Day of five celebration marathon

Yan!camp half blood x Male!Jackson!reader

-£ Ask: Yan camp half bloods (specifically Grover, Percy, and Annabeth) for Percy's older brother, also son of posiden who takes after Sally just SO much, and bakes cookies for everyone and takes care of them even if they are mad at him.

-£ words: 900

-£ warning: short, yandere behavior, protective over the reader, stalking themes, reader being a bit naive, drowning themes?

it was always the son of Poseidon to calm down the campers in their time of need. ares cabin hated that they couldn’t find it in themselves to be mean to him. they only wanted to be near him and fight anyone that came near him. even his own brother, percy.

y/n was always near his brother when he was at camp. he was protective over his little brother but everyone new that Percy was the one to take care of things. sure, y/n would glare at someone that would say something mean but it was percy who handled things much differently.

“do you have everything?” Y/n looked over his brother with a worded look in his eyes, looking so much like his mother.

“Yeah, calm down.” Percy smiled and laughed at his brother, “I’ve done this before.” y/n huffed out his cheeks and flicked his forehead.

“I’m worried about you! Now don’t be a little brat,” percy could only smirked and rub his forehead. “I baked some cookies for your trip, make sure you share with Annabeth.”

percy took the bag of blue cookies, “no problems.”

speaking of annabeth, she often watched him from afar to make sure no one bothered him. but she loved him like family. someone that took the roll of Luke when he left but annabeth would make sure he would never leave her. this time she was going to have family that stuck.

Grover, the satyr was very manipulating. he only liked it when y/n hung around the trio. he’d say that the other kids were mean to him so he could get attention. you had to take care of percy when he got picked on at school, so you were protective over anyone who got bullied.

“Guys,” you groan as they tug your arm around camp, “I was enjoying a meal.” Your own stomach making noises at the thought of food.

“We need some to watch us train,” percy looked up at his brother, “I thought you’d help me? Or, maybe- oh, I get it. You think it’s lame to help your little brother?” and you played right into his little trap.

“I can’t believe you’d say that, you know that’s not true.” You push his head and roll your eyes and end up following them to the training ground where they fought to get your praise and attention.

now, you did try and take care of the younger campers of any cabin but ares and aphrodites childs were clingy, and so were the hermes kids.

ares kids likes to try and impress you with their fighting skills and aggression. aphrodites kids like to tug you around and play with your hair, even if it was short, and make you learn how to braid.

hermes kids like to pull you away by any means necessary. infected someone’s clothes so they break out in hives and itch like crazy. maybe start to stealing things and hind them around. or, simply ask you to help them because you could never refuse.

percy hated everyone for stealing his brother away from him, didn’t they know you cared about him the most? as much as everyone hated to admit, but percy had you wrapped around his finger. just like his mom you wanted to care for him, make him happy and keep him safe.

all he had to do was look at you with his puppy eyes and say, “please big brother?” and it was like he was five again and needed your help to pick up his toys. hints why you always helped him do his chores.

but when it comes to protecting you? Percy doesn’t care who he has to team up with, someone is going down.

“I’m fine Percy, really.” You wiped the tear off your check and feel ashamed of crying in front of your brother. but you were so frustrated and embarrassed! you were a few years older then percy and still you couldn’t fight like him! Heck your own father didn’t trust you to go on missions with percy, or anyone else at camp.

“Don’t give me that,” Percy patted your shoulder with a small drop in his voice. you couldn’t see the darkness in his eye as he tried to soothe you.

“Who were you training with?”

as soon as you answer he knew exactly what he was going to do, have a little chat with that person. once he got you to calm down he gave you a smile. he offered to go get you something from the kitchens and you just nodded and stayed put in your shared cabin.

which is why he was next to clarisse who stood with her arms crossed. both had a glint in their eyes but for the first time not at each other but the kid on the ground.

“I swear I didn’t mean to hurt him! he asked me to teach him something but he didn’t do as I said,” the kid kept backing away from the two but they just kept creeping closer.

“And who said you could train them?” clarisse asked with darting tone.

“Yeah, who said you could train my brother? Out all people, you don’t have the right.” Percy hissed and leaps forward to grab ahold of the collar of his camp shirt.

“I think you need a lesson.” the boy whimpered and shook his head while pleading but it feel deaf to their ears.

clarisse took him from percy and dragged him to the lake as the sun had almost set. she threw and evil look at percy as the corner of her lips tugging into a smirk.

“water is your specialty, Jackson.” She threw him back down into the water.

“Show him what you got.”

Taglist: @itzmeme @ravenmedows @maria699669 @purplerose291

[melancholicstation]

HUSBAND JACK SCHLOSSBERG HEADCANONS 𓍼 𓇢𓆸

taglist: @remotewatch @bloxholden35 @kennediva @h-l-vlovesvintage @absurdlyvintage @chemicalw0rld @fortheloveofjos @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @tsloverr-13

might make this into a couple of one-shots??

imagining WIFE!READER as an orion carloto type, who balances modelling and writing, and makes tiktoks in the same vain of alanabananaxox on tiktok (she's been my no.1 tiktoker since 2021) and sotce.

met wife!reader at a runway after party of an up and coming new york indie brand ( sandy liang, khaite, bode etc. )

proposes to you with the blythe doll you had been obsessing over, dressed in a wedding dress and hand-customised by a popular etsy dealer with quite a high rate like this girl on tt

encouraged by jack to do a ‘what’s in my ( miu miu joie leather ) bag’ video on tiktok to help campaign for kamala akin to this video of anne hathaway but with a different vibe.

jack is ultimate embarrassing hard launcher bofy, leaving in all his girlfriends giggles that come from his chaotic antics when filming his videos.

wife!reader loves to slather jack’s face in biologique recherche’s “masque vivant”, he complains that it smells like rotting meat😹😹😹😹😹.

jack would be always on that damn phone during your runway shows, recording each time you pass him by in the catwalk.

would be the absolute opposite of marriage-shy.

unpopular opinion this man would be asking about marriage, a solid 3 months in ( jfk and jackie married in a YEAR )

fucks UP a rotisserie chicken.

forwards you his tweets before and asks if they’re good enough to post.

smells like aesop musk and of herbal deodorant.

wife!reader buys rick owen’s black and white t-shirts and slacks for jack, and jack’s absolutely baffled when he learns the price tag.

love language is buying wife!reader drinks whenever and wherever they are: hot chocolate in central park, home-delivers you a sab benedetto sparkling water because he had a meeting at cipriani downtown, and always orders a polo bar punch for you prior to your arrival to your shared weekly dinner date at the polo bar on 55th st.

instigates a24 marathons on friday nights, much to the dismay of your prior night plans ( you are more of a criterion collection girl and have held a subscription since you were a freshman in college )

( clumsily ) slips lana del rey lyrics into sexting and dirty talk.

husband!jack and wife!reader texts go like this:

jack is horrific at low impact pilates, he needs to be near a body of water.

he wears your prized doublesoul x orion caroloto ‘lamb’ socks around your woodfloored high-rise despite your varied attempts at hiding them from him.

constantly frets over you during society galas, which is quite convenient due to your tempered social anxiety and your forgetful memory of high society etiquette.

immediately brings you to meet the family, for which you were completely unprepared for ( i’m imagining something reminder of that one story of meghan markle meeting princess kate middleton in ripped jeans and bare feet )

jack loves to wear your 100% cotton brandy melville pointelle tanks despite them being comically tiny for his frame.

would have an innocence kink.

he gets intensely flushed when called his proper full name: john bouvier kennedy schlossberg, wife!reader abuses this to the HIGHEST degree!!!

the first time he entered you apartment he was constantly paranoid of breaking anything because your house was littered with ceramics from brooklyn under-ground designers and clay lamb figurines.

he NEEDS his beauty Zzzzzzz or else.

plays with your very expensive westman atelier blushes like a toddler.

sickly devoted to you.

you both want to adopt a lamb despite living in a HIGH-RISE apartment.

sends pics captioned with anaïs nin lewd quotes.

he would think whole foods was stupidly over priced but would purchase his groceries there in spite of his opinions.

has hyperfixations on old-hollywood women which causes you to be snippy at him for exactly 2-3 hours ex. jack’s current hyper fixation on audrey hepburn being his doppelgänger.

wife!reader definitely participated in that egg cracking trend where girls would crack an egg on their boyfriends head.

would love caring for your hair and doing your curly girl hair routine if you had one.

wife!reader does small yet viral shoots for brands like mirror palais, the row, and loewe.

manhandles you ( lovingly ) without even trying.

mans is a chronic diptyque candle lighter.

loves to be coddled and cradled as a grown man…

plays with your van cleef stack before stage when he’s nervous about his speech landing correctly

uses his family connections to get his girl courted by the high-ticket fashion brands: schiaparelli, chanel, dior, yves saint laurent etc.

[peachsukii]

— the knife in you brings out the life in me

college life has been a breeze and you've got everything you've ever wanted — a hot boyfriend, decent grades and a circle of friends you wouldn't trade for the world. that perfect daydream is shattered when a student ends up murdered in their apartment off campus, and somehow, it all leads back to you.

✮ summary. it's a typical friday night as kendo preps for your annual movie marathon, impatiently waiting for you to come home when she gets a mysterious phone call from an unknown number. ✮ content. 18+ MDNI. part of the wyfscm collab: scream!au + bakugo x fem!reader. college setting (characters are 21/22). descriptions of stalking/kidnapping. major character death(s). sexual scenes (soft predator/prey & knife play, heavy makeouts, oral & vanilla-ish sex). violence (blood/gore). lots of meta humor. angst w/ a "happy" ending. ✮ word count. 3.2k — Act One ⨯ Act Two ⨯ Act Three 『 wyfsm collab ⨯ k.bakugo masterlist ⨯ crossposted to ao3 』

✮ act one: silver screams & movie scenes

Apartment 104 | 8:30PM

A crisp night on campus, the windows in the apartment open to let in the chill as Kendo stood in front of the oven, impatiently tapping her nails against the frozen pizza box on the counter. She glances at her phone for the tenth time, sighing when the little 'Read' notification finally appears under her last message to you.

Kendo (8:35PM): Y/N, are you coming home soon? I got the movies lined up and pizza's in the oven. Read 8:44PM

"Bitch," she playfully curses to herself. She leans against the laminate, fingers furiously tapping against the screen.

Kendo (8:46PM): That dick better be worth ditching movie night. >:( I'll save you a slice of pizza, but only one. You (8:47PM): Thanks Kennie! Be home soon. <3

Kendo slides her phone into her back pocket before unwrapping the pizza, shoving it onto the oven rack and slamming the door shut. She wasn't actually pissed, she just didn't want to watch a set of scary movies by herself. They freaked her out, but you always want to watch the classics around Halloween, something you two drunkenly pinky promised over way back in your freshmen year. That tradition has held strong for almost two years now — some things never change. She strolls into the living room, skimming one of the backs of the DVDs on the table when her phone vibrates repeatedly, catching her attention after the second round of buzzing. No one ever calls her, not even her boyfriend or family, let alone some random person. The screen reads 'Caller: Unknown.' She chuckles to herself before clicking the "Ignore" button.

"Real original," she laughs aloud. "I'm not an idiot if she thinks she can play tricks on me."

The phone begins ringing again in her hand, 'Caller: Unknown' popping up on the Caller ID another time. Now she's getting annoyed, answering with a huff. "I'm not stupid, Y/N. I know this is you and Katsuki prank calling me."

There's a faint rustling sound in the background before the voice comes through the line. "Hello, Itsuka."

Her heart skips a beat, caught off guard by the use of her name. "Uhh…Who's this?"

"I'm in one of your study groups for chemistry. I was wondering if you had Y/N's number."

Kendo pauses — who the hell would call on a Friday night about a dumb study group? It's prime party hours, especially in your off-campus neighborhood.

"How'd you get my number?"

There's a hollow laugh followed by some sort of static that she can't quite place. Her stomach sinks, a pang of fear aching in her guts. Why did it suddenly feel like someone was watching her?

"Sorry! I thought you'd recognize my voice. I got it from Professor Yamada," he stammers, the tonality in his voice shifting into something artificially sweet. "Is Y/N home?"

"No…" Kendo stalls, walking to the balcony doors to look outside before closing the curtain. If he got her number from the professor, why couldn't he have gotten yours, too? "I can give you her e-mail address and you can ask for whatever you need."

"Sure, that would be great," he says. "Are you busy right now?"

Technically, no, but there's no harm in lying to this guy. What he doesn't actually know won't hurt him.

"Yeah, I'm in the middle of dinner and a movie. Looking for a hot date or something?" she jokes, trying to lighten the panic lingering in her chest.

He tuts. "Pizza doesn't seem like a healthy dinner, now does it?"

Kendo barely registers his words before she hangs up, tossing her phone onto the carpet as if it was on fire. The screen illuminates with 'Caller: Unknown' splayed across the screen, taunting her repeatedly as he calls over and over again. It's not until it rings a fourth time that she finally answers, carefully bringing the phone to her ear without saying a word.

"That was rude," the voice scolds, tongue clicking against his teeth. "You shouldn't leave your windows open when you're home alone. Haven't you watched horror movies? That's an open invitation for someone to sneak inside and do god knows what to you."

"And you shouldn't be staring through people's windows, creep," she retaliates. Crawling along the floor, Kendo scurries over to the open kitchen window, shutting it hastily.

"Who says I'm staring through the window?" A distant click of a lock fills her ears, crudely reminding her that the front door was left open. Why the fuck didn't she lock the door?!

"Are you in my house?!" She questions, wanting to sound threatening but cannot hide in her voice that she's scared shitless.

No response.

"Answer me, you freak!"

The line disconnects. Kendo drops her phone onto the kitchen counter and skips to the entryway of the apartment to see the door wide open, but no one in sight. There's not many places to hide in this tiny place — maybe it was a stupid prank after all? You and Katsuki are fucking with her, that's gotta be it. Who else would know she's home alone?

Kendo hurries down the hall in an attempt to shut the door when a shadow moves out of the corner of her eye, a mysterious figure lurching out to grab her. Her body slams against the wall, desperate to recollect the breath that was swiftly stolen from her lungs. A white Halloween mask and black cloak…is this guy serious? A Ghostface costume?

"Very funny, Katsuki," she coughs out, a hand coming to grip the person's forearm. "Come on, jokes over."

"I didn't want to do this, Itsuka." The figure pulls out a knife with the opposite hand, moving to trace the pointed edge along her jawline. Their voice sounds deeper, almost computerized, an extreme difference from the phone calls moments earlier. "Too bad you hate horror movies, you'd have a better chance at winning the game we're gonna play."

Fuck, this is real.

Kendo swallows harshly before questioning further. "Wh-what game?"

“Now now, don't rush me, sweetheart," he cautions, the tip poking roughly into the side of her throat, a tiny pinprick beginning to weep blood onto the blade. "You’ll be in the news for weeks, I’ll make sure of that." He drops the knife and takes a step back, signaling to the open door. "All you gotta do is run.”

Without a second thought, Kendo bolts for the door and out into the night, running for her life through the apartment complex courtyard in her slippers, not knowing where the hell to go. She runs past a few open windows, loud music pouring out of multiple house parties of her fellow colleagues. Her eyes are darting back and forth between them, ping ponging her options in a rush.

She stops at one, attempting to shout over the speakers at the group of people closest to her. "There's someone with a knife out here, call the damn cops!"

No one bats an eye as she's banging her fists on the glass, desperate to grab someone's attention. She tries to open it further and it won't budge — of fucking course it won't. Is this what her night has come to, running from some psycho killer? If it turns out to be you and Katsuki playing a stupid ass prank, she's going to kill you herself for scaring the ever-loving shit out of her.

No matter the case, she can't waste another second, every single one precious to keep herself alive if this is legit. Kendo spins on her heel, proceeding to trip over her own feet as she rounds one of the complex buildings, hugging the wall to stay out of sight. It's too bad it happens to be the moment she didn't look where she was going, colliding with the masked assailant in the dark.

One of the most important rules of horror movies; never blindly hide in the dark from a killer, especially alone.

A large hand grasps her shoulder, pinning Kendo in place as the other comes swinging forward, weapon in hand. She can't even shout before the blade pierces through her cashmere sweater and directly into her chest, blood spurting around the knife and staining the fabric in gushing waves of crimson. The killer twists the weapon, torturing her as Kendo screams in agony, burgundy droplets spewing from her mouth. They pull out the knife with a sickening schlep, only to prick the rest of her body like a pin cushion to the melody of her wails for help.

One, two, three… she loses count of the number of stab wounds, too focused on the pain building in intensity with each slice of her flesh. Was this some form of sick karmic justice? What the fuck did she do to deserve this?!

"Please," she chokes out in a high pitched squeal. "S-stop!"

Kendo attempts to grasp at the killer's mask, but the material slips from between her bloody fingers, leaving messy bloodstains in their wake. In the distance, a group of college kids are excitedly strolling down the sidewalk, chatting loudly about the hottest party on the block. She tries to scream, to produce any sort of noise for them to hear — she can't. Her hands come up to clutch around her throat, a pitiful attempt to stop the blood rising like bile before it spills over her lips like a waterfall and all over her bunny slippers.

"Oh, Itsuka," the voice laments while letting her body go limp and fall into the grass. "Someone needed to be the message, and it happened to be you." Kendo's vision clouds, the killer kneeling over her twitching body, finger jamming into her chest wound. She lets out a breathless scream, the pain too much to bear any longer. "What a perfect opening for our movie. See you in hell, angel."

Is this how it feels to die? Her last glimpse of reality is that goddamn mask, the bloody finger prints splayed on the white plastic like some pretentious abstract art taunting her as the world fades to black.

Her final thought?

'I fucking hate horror movies.'

Bakugo's Apartment | 9:25PM

"Katsuki! Noooo!" you giggle, running down the hallway of his apartment and swinging into his bedroom, slamming the door shut. It doesn't have time to latch before Bakugo's shoulder rams against it. He taps his knuckles on the wood as a warning, even though he could burst in on his own.

"C'mon, baby," he sings, sickly sweet. "Let me in." He doesn't hesitate to deliver a hearty kick to the door, the doorknob slipping out of your grasp and causing you to stumble backwards.

"Gotcha," Bakugo teases, squeezing your hips and shoving you up against the wall. Your heart races, a flush creeping up your neck and flaring to the tips of your ears. The pout spread across your glossed lips almost has him crumbling, a brief moment of weakness to let you run free. But not tonight, any night but tonight. The thought quickly leaves when he remembers the power he holds over you, one of his hands finding your throat in one swift motion, pinning you in place under his firm grasp. "A pretty thing like you shouldn't be left alone, especially with those frat fuckfaces wanderin' around campus."

Heart-eyes blossomed under your half-lidded gaze, laced with a deadly mixture of fear and infatuation. You looked delicious in this state, a fawn batting her lashes at the wolf to guide her home. Bakugo growls at the thought of how you'll look when he's got you pressed beneath him, begging to be fucked to hell and back just the way he likes. He leans down next to your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin and nudging his nose against your cheek. His grip releases from your hip, fingers trailing to the edge of your skirt. "This short ass skirt could get ya into trouble with the wrong guy."

The clash of terror and arousal actively going to war inside you, adrenaline spiking as Bakugo's palm skims over your inner thigh, fingers dancing along the hem of your underwear. He snaps the fabric against your skin, a moan flooding out of you and echoing through the room. Thankfully, his roommates weren't home, but honestly? It might be hot to let them listen in on you two in the future.

"M'not dangerous, baby. Nothin' to be scared of," He pauses to nip at your earlobe, relishing in the way it makes you squirm beneath him. "None'a those creepy jackasses could fuck you like I can, make ya beg an' scream until your throat is raw."

Your hands shoot up to clutch onto his shirt. "Please, make me scream until I pass out, 'Suki!"

Bakugo's ready to devour you, rough hands finding your waist to lift you from the wall and shove you toward his bed. "With pleasure, little mouse."

He pounces on you hungrily, grabbing your face to twist toward his and ravish your lips. It's messy, all teeth and tongue while he fishes something out of his back pocket. It isn't until you hear a click that you open your eyes, a black and red switchblade on full display. Suddenly, you're on the tallest rollercoaster imaginable, your stomach churning with dread as you approach the first big drop and look out into the horizon, realizing how high up you truly are.

"Like what ya see?" Bakugo jokes while trailing his lips down your neck, canines grazing your delicate skin. "Borrowed it from one of the guys." He drags the dull side of the blade along your bare thigh, the sensation sending a chill up your spine. It disappears under your skirt and snags the fabric of your panties laying against your hip, the tip of the knife slipping through the material with ease. You have to fight against the urge to run, panic coursing through your veins as the steel kisses your skin.

You can trust him, you have to, he loves you and would never hurt you. Not in a million years.

Bakugo roughly yanks on the knife, accidentally pricking your hip and causing you to yelp in pain with an accompanied "Fuck!"

"Shit!" He drops it and lets the weapon clatter to the hardwood floor. "Lemme take a look."

You wince when his fingers brush against your skin to investigate the damage, curiously grinning when he sees your underwear is still in one piece, albeit hanging by a thread, blood seeping into the band strained over the cut. He rockets off the bed to retreat to the bathroom down the hall, returning in a flash with a wet washcloth and a few band aids.

"Stay still," he grumbles under his breath. "I got'cha."

Without thinking, he rips the loose threads of your panties, letting them give way and fall away from your skin to access your wound. The warm cloth stings at first when he presses it to your hip, but is soothed shortly after with a few gentle puffs of air as Bakugo blows on the area. "Sorry sweetheart, didn't mean'ta cut you open."

"S'okay Kats, it was an accident."

You throw your head back against his pillow, chest still heaving from the excitement of it all. Of course this is what you get for asking your boyfriend to pretend stalk you and playing around with a damn weapon, and no safe word. Neither of you have every wielded a knife before, your imaginations running too wild to stop and think of any consequences. Blame exam season, the two of you locked away to study with little time to actually fuck, especially with roommates. While you're ruminating in your own head, Bakugo's eyes fall to your discarded panties, a prominent wet spot soaked through the cotton and barely covering your center. He bends down and starts leaving wet kisses along your inner thigh, all while holding the cloth to your hip to soak up any remaining blood.

"K-ahh-tsuki!" You whine, squirming under his touch. Your eyes begin to fall closed until the sound of your phone vibrating against his nightstand incessantly catches your attention.

"Ignore it," Bakugo snarls before diving between your legs, hot tongue slipping between your folds with ease and collecting all of your pent up juices in one swipe. And you obey him, turning your head away from the screen to focus on the pleasure building in your belly. It's not long until your phone is ringing for a second, third, and forth time in a row, distracting you from your boyfriend's attempt to apologize for his fuck up. Your eyes squint at the name on the caller ID - 'Ochako Uraraka.'

That's odd, Uraraka's normally at Midoriya's on Friday nights. What could she want?

"Babe, it's gotta be important. Ochako's called me four times in a row." You don't wait for Bakugo's response before answering, out of breath. "H-hey, what's—"

"Ohmigawd you're alive!" Uraraka screeches through the speaker, her voice unusually distressed. "Where are you?!"

You thread a hand through Bakugo's hair to still his movements, tapping the top of his head to get him to stop as you sit up and pull away from his mouth. He grumbles in annoyance, but it quickly fizzles out when he sees the look of concern on your face.

"Uhh…I'm at Katsuki's place. Why?"

"Oh thank GOD. Okay, okay…umm, I don't know how to tell you this," she starts, pausing to take a deep breath. "Something happened at your apartment."

Bakugo's brow furrows when he feels his own phone begin to ring in his jeans, tugging it from his pocket to see Kirishima's name on the screen and three previous missed calls. What the hell is going on?

"Itsuka was…," Uraraka lets out an audible sob. "She was killed!"

Your first instinct is to laugh, to chalk it up to her acting and pulling a prank on you. "Quit bullshitting, Ochako! You're scaring me."

"I'm not!" She argues, another stifled cry as she begins to mutter through broken words. "Her body was found…h-hanging -hic- from a tree by her throat with…and…and -hic- stabbed a-almost 20 times."

Everything falls silent, the words ringing in your head. Without warning, you hang up on Uraraka, unable to find anything to say in return to the news lingering in the air.

Kendo was stabbed? Your Kennie?

She's…dead?

Bakugo's sudden grip on your shoulder startles you, his eyes dilated with shock as he speaks, but you can't hear a thing. You try to read his lips until his voice eventually reaches your ears. "…was found dead."

You shake your head in disbelief. "Sorry, what?"

"Monoma. Found him dead in the quad, there's a whole crime scene on campus." He turns away from you to continue talking with Kirishima on the other line, nodding hesitantly to whatever Kirishima was info dumping to him.

"Itsuka…too," you mumble, afraid to speak the truth out loud and face the reality of the situation. Bakugo's eyes shift to yours, a rare glimpse of dread on full display as you continue. "Someone broke into our apartment."

So much for getting laid tonight.

a huge thanks to @lumiambrose @ambiguouslady42 & @hayatoseyepatch for beta'ing this for me! :)) act two & three should be done before halloween. <3 happy spooky season!

✮ network. @pixelcafe-network

✮ tags. @slayfics @maddietries @starieqq

@liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague

@napbatata @Yoyolovesdaiki @kirishimaeijiromyman

@strwbrrykthv @awkwardchick87 @stunies @suokura

[etanow]

Got some Abstragedy and various ML ramblings!!

Zooble doesn't care much for torturing and tricking humans or whatever the stigma around demons is, they're more aligned with the sin of sloth, manifesting with apathy and a blatant disregard for any 'duty' they might have to higher powers.

This means they aren't into the whole "human and blood sacrifice" stuff like other demons might be, so when a mysterious cult's summoning of an ancient power failed and the group summoned Zooble instead, you can only imagine how pissed they were. Not only from being ripped away from a Seinfeld marathon but also now having an innocent soul sacrificed in their name. Hell has paperwork, too much damn paperwork, and turning the bright soul over to eternal damnation like it was promised to felt like too much of a chore and such a waste of a soul. So instead Zooble told it to go haunt or whatever, just leave them be and they won't collect. She didn't like this idea much. Stuck as little more than a string of shadows with no name to remember, and nowhere to go, and the idea of haunting her family felt wrong.

So in the first few years, Gangle followed Zooble around as a distant shadow, not interacting much, simply watching the demon go about their business. Zooble didn't mind this. They got annoyed at first when she started getting curious and asking questions or starting up chats, but soon found her to be a decent conversation partner.

Gangle didn't know she could possess the mask she died in until Zooble showed her, even with the heavy emotions that the mask brought she missed being more than a watcher to the world. She can enter it freely, but can't exit it unless the mask breaks. There's something supernatural about the mask, the breaks never stick. The black silk ribbons originally were connected to the back as decorations. It's how Gangle got her new name, when she learned she could use the ribbons like limbs and Zooble started laughing at how gangly she looked. Gangle as a nickname stuck more than any other they gave her.

She cried when she held a pencil for the first time in a decade and now finds enjoyment in interacting with everything around, she's very touchy-feely. Goes absolutely crazy for bubble wrap.

Zooble can interact with Gangle when she's pure shadow and vice versa.

Zooble's allergic to holy water lol

Gangle worries about everything and overthinks a lot, being around Zooble helps with that as their presence does promote feelings of apathy.

Gangle is ambidextrous after learning how to write with flimsy hands. Zooble prefers writing with her shadowy hand.

Zooble can switch out parts but certainly has preferences based on fate, even if they don't know why. They change their parts out slowly rather than daily and will stick with some appendages for months or years at a time.

Gangle kissed Zooble first and then ran and hid for 4 months out of embarrassment even though Zooble very enthusiastically kissed her back. Zooble found her and the first thing she did was return the favor 💕

They didn't put a label on their relationship until much later, just fine being whatever felt right in the moment.

Gangle can't feel temperature anymore so doesn't mind Zooble's elevated body temperature or when they burst into flames.

Their arrangement works, but Zooble still feels like Gangle is missing out on the life that got stolen from them. They want to fix it. It took a while to hunt down someone with connections who might be able to help, it's how they made their way into C&A Laboratories- specifically in a research division focused on the study of souls; One of Caine's many domains. In exchange for services to find a way to sever the soul debt, they'd both participate in any research going on within the residency.

Jax is the one to fix Gangle's mask when it breaks when Caine isn't around. He teases her for it endlessly, sometimes throwing it at the shadow when she isn't paying attention only for it to stick to her and force her back in.

Jax and Zooble have an,, interesting agreement. Deals and trades are how he ended up in the same residency, and he's no stranger to twisting the words of their pacts for his own benefit, even to other lab resident's detriment.

[sweetbans29]

Hey You - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x reader

Summary: You and Caitlin have a history - from growing up together to dating in high school. You both decided that it would be best to end things before going to college and that's what you did. Little did you know that seeing each other nearly four years later would have you both admitting things should have been different.

Warnings: You are looking at some angst, some suggestive themes and some fluff, nothing too crazy ;) mentions of head injury

Word Count: 6.0k

Hey You PART 2

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Hi and welcome! This is my first writing and would love any feedback or ideas! I hope you enjoy!

You were sitting in the backseat of your friend's car rubbing your hands on your jeans. Your friend Jamie was driving you and two other friends to the women's NCAA basketball game in Cleveland. All of you attended a university in Pittsburgh and thought it would be a fun girls' day to go watch the championship game. It was going to be iconic and deep down, you knew you wouldn't miss it for the world. You had been following the teams closely this year despite the squeeze to your heart that came with seeing her name. Looking out the window you continue to rub your hands on your pants.

Your friends all knew Iowa was home for you and that you played basketball growing up. They knew you had friends who ended up playing college ball but an injury you suffered junior year of high school caused you to shift gears when it came to college. They also knew that you and Caitlin Clark had played high school ball together - but that was all they knew on the subject. They didn't know you had grown up together and had been best friends since the first day of sixth grade or that she held your heart in high school and may or may not hold it today.

As you look out the window your mind begins to wander back to when you were young...

It was the first day of sixth grade and your family had just moved to Des Moines, IA for your dad's job. Starting at a new school at the start of junior high was not ideal but you were determined to make the best of it. As you entered homeroom - you took a seat next to another girl who wasn't completely dolled up due to it being the first day. You didn't say anything as you sat down and pulled out a notebook that was completely covered in NBA stickers. The girl next to you perked up when she looked over and saw several familiar faces, even some of her favorites.

She leans over and points to one of the players and says, "That is one of my favorites." I look up at her with a huge smile and reply, "He is great but not as great as Kobe." She nods in agreement and we continue talking about other players who made their spotlight on your Fivestar notebook.

Fast forward to freshman year of high school - you and Caitlin are at pre-season training. Both of you had a single goal in mind which was making varsity. You knew she would make it no problem, but for you, it was going to take a little more. The two of you put in the work, when you weren't at training you were either at a park practicing or at her house training. When you found out you both made varsity after all those hours of hard work you went out to get froyo to celebrate. The night ended with a sleepover at yours that included a movie marathon and many many snacks.

When you snap back to being present with your friends, you realize you are already at the arena. You take a deep breath and get out of the car with your friends to brave the lines to enter the stadium. It was amazing to see the attention women's college basketball has gotten during March Madness this year. The spotlight on all the teams in the Sweet Sixteen, then the Elite Eight to the Final Four all leading to today had brought a lot of attention to the sport and the players. Not only the spotlight on the teams but the spotlight put on Caitlin was something that never really surprised you as you knew how incredible she was and is. Seeing how much she had blown up made you proud of the player she had become but also rattled the box you had put her in that lived in the deepest part of your heart. As you are standing in line to get in, your mind takes you back again...

It was the summer before junior year and your mom and dad just surprised you with your own car. You freaked out and couldn't stop thanking them. Of course, it was their pleasure as you were almost the perfect child. Caitlin was already on her way over as you had plans to go out to get food before having a lazy day. The two of you always worked hard but on the other side of that, you both had major lazy days throughout your friendship. These lazy days consisted of movie marathons, pillow forts, naps, and all the snacks you could ever imagine. The beginning of these days stemmed from making plans one day but you were both so tired you ended up napping on the floor in Caitlin's living room, never seeing the light of day.

Caitlin pulls in and you come running out pointing at the car in the driveway. She jumps out of her car and you both freak out and jump right in. After grabbing food you headed back to yours and settled into the pillow fort you had set up before she got there. You throw on Princess Diaries and you both are knocked out within the first 20 minutes.

When you feel yourself come back to consciousness, you notice the only light in the room is coming from the TV screen. You also felt extremely hot. As you begin to move you feel a squeeze around your torso. Looking down, a smile appears on your face as you realize Caitlin is cuddled into your side and hugging you as if you were a teddy bear. Your arm is draped around her back as her head is nestled into your neck. Her breath is steady - inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. It was slightly comedic as she has a solid few inches on you but when she was curled up into your side she looked like a little girl. You slowly start to rub her back and you hear her groan and bury herself deeper into you and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

This wasn't the first time that you both had ended up cuddling next to each other on a lazy day. It had become more common over the last few months than it had been before. You noticed it was typically Caitlin who ended up cuddled into your side but every blue moon you ended up in her arms. Once one of you woke up, you would usually break apart almost immediately - secretly both wishing it would last longer. It all felt so natural that neither of you questioned it. Due to how dedicated you both were to your sport neither of you really had time for boys or relationships so you both just leaned into each other.

You continue to rub her back until you feel her fingers play with the backside of your shirt - this is your signal that she is no longer asleep. Neither of you made a move to untangle yourselves from the other and that was when you knew that the feelings you were pushing down for your best friend might be reciprocated and that alone was enough to hold her even tighter.

Later that night you took your new car and went to get ice cream. You both sat there for hours talking and laughing. That night held your first kiss with Caitlin. It was in the parking lot of your local grocery store, a pint of ice cream in the center console. It was nothing crazy but as you drove back home with her hand in your hand, neither of you could wipe the smile off of your face.

You are brought back to reality when your friend nudged you for the tickets as you were next to get them scanned. While you didn't have to worry about the drive, you were tasked with getting the tickets. Grabbing your phone, you open up your tickets for the guy to scan. As you all pass through security at Rocket Mortgage Fieldhouse, you make your way to your seats before braving the sea of spectators to grab yourself some food and a drink (there was no way you were getting through this whole event without a drink by your side).

The usher directed you to where your seats were and you were insanely grateful that you were the one to choose where you all sat. You choose the same section you always supported Caitlin in your senior year of high school...

It was the championship game junior year of high school and you were in the starting lineup. The game was going to be a tough one but you had no doubt in your mind that it wasn't yours for the taking. Everything was perfect. You were already talking to a couple schools to play in college. Caitlin and you had been dating for a few months and you were going to ask her to be your girlfriend your next lazy day which so happened to be tomorrow. Everything seemed it was going your way.

The seconds were counting down in the second quarter and the score was 38-38. If there was one thing you knew, it was that you were not going into halftime tied. You were passed the ball as the seconds ticked away. The other team had just scored, which gave your team possession with just enough time to make something happen. As you made your way down the court you scoped out the scene in front of you. The other team was doing everything in their power to avoid yours from scoring.

Your first vision played out was getting the ball to Caitlin, knowing she could make it happen but the girl defending her was doing a damn good job of keeping her just out of reach. You then scanned to my other teammate Jada who you knew was great at getting the ball where it needed to go in the nick of time. As you were about to pass it her way you took one final look at the clock and realized that time was just about out. You made the decision to take it up the middle, faking the defender that was covering you and going for a quick layup on the left side. As your last foot left the ground, before you knew it you were back against the ground with a pulsing head and pain shooting everywhere.

You don't dare move, you have no idea what just happened. There is a ringing in both of your ears and your vision is blurry and the pain - the pain has your body shutting down to protect itself. Your eyes start to close slowly as you faintly feel someone grab your arm as someone appears in your sight. It takes you a second to realize it is Caitlin - you give a small smile. Then everything goes black.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. That is the first thing you hear as you start to regain consciousness. Confusion hits almost immediately as the last thing you remember is getting ready to play the championship game. You begin to wiggle your fingers and they feel sore, now that you start to feel more - everything is sore.

Before you decide to open your eyes you try to take a deep breath. Yet another thing that is painful to do. You decide you need to open your eyes to figure out where you are and what has happened. As your eyes open, it takes a few blinks to get a clear picture of what is in front of you. You are in the hospital, in a hospital bed. The sun is shining in through the window and you start to look around to see if you can find any clues as to what has happened. There are no casts or bandages that you can see but when you make a minor move in the bed it felt like you got hit by a truck.

Your mom was in the room reading a book. When you began to move, you let out a groan which caused her to look up and quickly make her way to your side. As she gets to your bedside, your dad makes his way through the doorway.

"Baby girl, oh baby girl," your mom begins as she gives you a hug which really only causes more pain to shoot around your body but you weren't going to push her away. Your dad comes and sits on your other side and takes hold of your hand.

"Hi sweetie," your dad says. You look up at him and with your eyes try and get him to explain what had happened, knowing your mom wasn't in a state to do so.

"You were taken out seconds before the halftime buzzer went off," he began. Your eyes lay intently on him. He takes a moment before continuing. "You were going for a layup to put your team ahead going into halftime and a girl from the other team misjudged your movement and body slammed you causing you to go head-first into the ground."

It then all started coming back to you, the pain that shot straight to your head and trying to not pass out. You let go of his hand and start to feel around your head. It had a wrap around it which you didn't even think about when you were making your first assessment of what had happened. Your dad continued.

"You were rushed to the hospital due to your ears bleeding and you not waking up. The doctors determined you had a skull fracture and took you to an emergency surgery. Everything went smoothly and you are recovering well," your father says with sad eyes. If there is anything you know about your dad it is that he shares your dream of going to a D1 school to play basketball in college. The way he was looking at you right now, you immediately knew that even though the surgery went well, everything you had hoped and dreamed about was all about to change.

You continued to listen to how your parents were so happy you were alive and okay and that you should make a full recovery - even though you knew deep down that it truly wouldn't be full. You had learned that it has been almost 2 days since the game. Your parents step out of the room to give you some time to rest - even though you couldn't look at a screen that just left you sitting there with life-changing news. You looked around to see if you could find your phone to text or call Caitlin when she made her way through the door.

She looks just as beat up as you feel. As she walks up to you, she avoids eye contact which you so desperately wanted. Without saying a word, she comes up to your bedside and slowly makes her way into the hospital bed with you. You lift your arm and allow her to curl up by your side. A deep breath finally escapes your body and as you exhale you can feel her body release silent sobs.

All you can do is rub her back. Lying there with her has jogged your memory that she was the last face you saw before you blacked out on the court. Knowing her, these past two days were probably a living hell. You muster up all the strength you have to lean down and kiss the top of her head.

Not many people knew about your relationship. It was really only family and your coaches. Being on the same team, you both decided it would be best to keep your relationship between the two of you. It was a challenge at times but everyone knew the two of you were best friends so there were a lot of things that you did that people wouldn't look twice at.

One thing about Caitlin was that certain things were enhanced when you two started dating. Most of the things didn't affect your day-to-day like the amount of sweatshirts she stole doubled (which didn't bother you as you would just steal hers to replace the ones she had taken, it got to the point where it started a playful argument over a sweatshirt that she swore was here but was actually originally yours). Another that affected her more than either of us really realized was how protective she had become.

You first realized this when you got fouled at practice and Caitlin got all up into her space yelling at her. You had to grab her and pull her away which then led your coach to call for everyone to do suicide sprints. You don't even want to think about the girl who fouled you in the game and caused you to be hospitalized.

"Hey you," you say as it had sort of become your way of saying 'hey babe' without the world knowing. You feel her shift in your arms as she brings her hand up to wipe away her tears.

"You scared me," is all she says before letting out a few more silent sobs. You continue to rub her back and give her shoulder a little squeeze.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," you respond with a laugh. The laugh hurts but decide to keep quite about your pain, only quiet to Caitlin, never your doctors.

The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon cuddled up on the hospital bed. When the sun starts to go down you tell Caitlin she should head home to get some rest. She protests, of course, but ultimately folds to your request. She comes over and gives you a quick peck which leaves you unsatisfied. You grab her hand and pull her back to give her a proper kiss. As your lips part you mumble a breathy 'I love you'. It was the first time it had been said between the two of you in a manner that wasn't referring to your friendship. The smile that spread across her face lifted your soul.

"I love you," she replies as she leans down pressing her lips against yours. "Well not I REALLY don't want to go," she says with a laugh.

"One night won't hurt anyone - also you need a shower," you say making a face to try and sell the fact that you just called your girlfriend smelly. She scoffs and waves you off.

Following getting out of the hospital, it was a hard reality to face that you weren't going to be able to play ball for a long while. The journey ahead was a long one and you couldn't be more thankful that Caitlin was right by your side.

Two of your friends were coming back with beers when you snapped back to where you were. It was just about time for the athletes to come out and begin their warm-ups. Your heart began to race as you heard the announcer call the teams out.

As both teams make their way onto the floor, your eyes scan for her. As much as you didn't want to, you couldn't help yourself. It took about a whole 5 seconds to find her. Your heart stops and it feels like time slows as you see her running out and making her way to warm up. The first thing you notice is how even after four years, she starts warming up from the same spot. She is on the opposite side of the court facing where you are sitting getting ready to start her pregame ritual. You then notice, how her upper body has filled out a little more as she has matured and increased her strength training. Her hair is in a neatly pulled-back pony with a headband to catch her flyaways. She was as cool as a cucumber.

There were so many things that amazed you about Caitlin but one of the biggest ones was how calm she was before a game. Especially a game like today.

She was completely mesmerizing. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that she was living her dream. You watched her as she continued to warm up and couldn't wait to cheer her on.

The seats you had chosen were right across from Iowa's bench. every game you watched your senior year of high school was from this exact location.

As the warm-ups come to an end and they are just about to announce the starting lineup, your heartbeat begins to quicken...

Going into senior year, your relationship with Caitlin was better than ever. It was a tough journey to come to face the fact that you weren't going to play ball your senior year but you put all that extra energy into loving and supporting Caitlin. You still went to practice and your coach sort of brought you on as an assistant coach. It was great still being a part of the team.

You decided to play the role of the supportive girlfriend during games rather than sitting on the bench with the other players and coaches. It wasn't that you couldn't sit on the bench, rather it came from knowing how competitive Caitlin gets. She didn't need another person telling her how things could have been different or better, she needed someone who was going to cheer her on no matter what and get her out of her head when she got tunnel vision. She was the hardest person on herself.

Before every game when they called her name in the lineup as starting point guard and she made her way down the line of girls she got to the end and pointed to you with a smile. Then at the end of every game, you would wait down the hall of the girls' locker room and greet her when the team got out of their post-game meeting. It became your guys' things.

You weren't expecting it. It didn't even occur to you but when they announce her name and she makes her way down the court and at the end of the line she points directly in your direction and smiles. Your heart stops and she stops in her tracks, her smile dropping immediately. She does a double-take and just stares at you for a second. A small smile starts to creep onto your face and her eyes are on yours. You give her a little nod and she finally breaks away shaking her head with a smile growing on her face. She joins her team for their first huddle of the game.

Your heart feels like it is beating out of its chest. You had imagined it a thousand times since your friends mentioned wanting to go to the championship game. It was the reason you chose these seats. Even in all of the fantasizing about seeing her - you didn't imagine it to actually happen. There were thousands of people in this arena and her eyes found yours.

As the team is in their huddle, she stands up and looks back over at you. A smile now playing on her lips in full view as she can't stop glancing over to the familiar spot.

You want to go down to her and tell her to focus on her coach. Her head needs to be in this game and not turning to look up at you. Although the frequency of her looks brings butterflies to your stomach with every glance.

Once they break, the game begins and you can see Caitlin lock into the game. You cheer with all the other fans as the final game of her college career is underway.

The game is a complete nail-biter. There were times when Caitlin absolutely was killing the game, shooting her signature threes and playmaking. At other times, she let the ball slip and you knew that she would hold onto that but never let anyone see how much it truly affected her. She was really good at shaking off her mistakes in the eyes of others but you knew her too well.

As the game begins to come to an end and you can see the victory slip away from Iowa, your eyes focus on your girl. She is staying composed but you know she is feeling it. In the final minute of the game, Caitlin makes her way to the bench, hugging each one of her coaches then takes a seat with a blank stare.

Your eyes try to stay away from her but she naturally draws your attention. In the final seconds of the game, as South Carolina begins to celebrate Caitlin's eyes make their way to yours. You only hold them for a second but that was all you needed to know she was hurting.

The game ends and you see the team head into the locker rooms. Your friends decide to head to the floor to see if they can talk to any of the players (more like the player's brothers), You use this time to sneak away and try to find the Iowa locker room. You know there is no way they would let you in but you start sweet-talking the security guard. In less than 2 minutes, you were pacing in the same spot you would always wait for Caitlin after a game. As you wait for her, your nerves pick up as your mind continues to take you down memory lane...

You and Caitlin had just graduated high school and you were celebrating in your favorite fashion, with her curled up in your side. The plans the two of you had for the summer were laid out on the floor next to you. It was going to be the best summer and indeed it was until it wasn't.

It was a few days before Caitlin needed to head off for off-season training at the University of Iowa. You were hanging out at her house in her gym. You both had been avoiding the elephant in the room.

It was a conversation you both knew you needed but didn't want to have. You knew that Caitlin's only commitment was to play D1 ball which was once your dream too. You also know to do that, she couldn't have anything holding her back.

The two of you finish some conditioning which leaves you both panting and sitting on the floor.

"As much as I love you, I hate doing cardio," you say in between breaths.

"Ya well, my favorite form of cardio involves a lot less running and a lot more of you..." she says with a smile. "Caitlin!" You gasp and push her over as she bursts out laughing.

You let out a few laughs yourself but then hear her quiet down. Looking over at her, you see her whole mood shifts. She comes in and hugs your torso, burying her face in you. You scoot closer to hold her, knowing what is about to come next. It feels like hours pass before you decide to speak.

"Caitlin, you know I love you. And I want the world for you. You are and will always be my best friend," you say rubbing her back. She squeezes you even more. "We both know where your head needs to be when you head to training. You will always be my person but in this next season you need to be your teams' person."

Silence fills the space again. Your eyes begin to fill with tears and you swallow the sobs that taunt your lips. Then she finally speaks.

"You are my person," she says just above a whisper, you almost miss it.

"This doesn't mean I will stop being your person. Like I said, I will always be your person. We both knew this was coming and we have done a really good job of putting it off," you try to lighten the mood. She doesn't budge.

She lets go of you and sits up. You wipe away her tears. They just keep falling.

"I just don't like the idea of losing you," she says as she starts playing with a piece of your hair. "You aren't losing me, babe," you reply but both of you knew that wasn't true.

"This was always the plan," you start. "And I will always be cheering you on," you say with the best smile you could muster. No matter how much it would hurt you would support her until your last breath.

"So that means you will be at the championship game when I take Iowa to the NCAA championship?" her question lightening the mood.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," you say as you give her one last kiss.

You are pulled back to reality when you hear some of the players head out. Caitlin was typically the last one out of the lockers and with the way you knew she was feeling it was going to be a minute.

It is about another 15 minutes of you pacing in the hallway for the door to open again. Your head whips around to see her coming out. She looks completely defeated. She would never show this side of her to the press.

As you turn to face her, she looks up. You say the only thing that felt right.

"Hey, you."

She immediately makes her way to you. Your arms wrap around her as her head buries its way into your neck. Despite her being taller, Caitlin loved to be held as if she was the shorter one. Your heels were definitely helping.

"I really wanted that," she mumbles into you after a few moments. You rub her back like you always used to. "I know...I know."

"Your legacy is so much more than that one game and I am so beyond proud of everything you have accomplished," you begin. "And with that, I know this was one of your dreams." Caitlin stays quiet and sinks into being held by you.

The two of you finally break apart, her hand doesn't leave your arm and you can't complain. You missed her touch so much. You missed her. She keeps rubbing your arm and you feel like you will melt.

"I have to head into a press meeting, but can we catch up later? Are you staying in town?" Caitlin asks.

"I came into town with some friends, we are staying at a hotel a few blocks away. Call me when you are done with press?" You reply hopeful.

"I'll call you the second I am out," she ways with a smile. Oh how you missed that smile.

You head back to the hotel you are staying at to change into something a little more casual. Your friends checked in and told you they were going out to a bar and wanted you to meet up with them. You let them know you were catching up with an old friend and that they shouldn't wait up for you. You get ready to meet up with Caitlin - changing your shirt and shoes into something more comfortable, keeping the jeans you wore to the game. Right after you finish changing your phone begins to ring.

"Hey you," you answer as you begin to gather a few things in your purse.

"Hey babe," Caitlin responds causing your cheeks to blush and your stomach to fly. A smile is plastered on your face. "I am out of press and am going to head to my hotel, would you be up for meeting me there?"

"Of course, just shoot over the address and I will head that way," you say as your phone pings. She was already sending it as you asked.

"I will see you in a few," she says before you both hang up.

You make your way to her hotel which is surprisingly only a 10-minute walk. You follow her directions on how to get up to her room and knock on the door. The nerves begin to build up and you feel like you are back in high school. Your hands make their way to rub against your jeans, a familiar place for them today.

Caitlin opens the door with a huge smile on her face as she moves away to let you in. "I thought it would be better to meet here, a little more privacy," she says as she closes the door.

The two of you spend the next 4 hours catching up on life and how college has been. She talks about all the records she has broken and how she can finally start looking at what comes after college ball. She talks about her family and how much they miss you. You follow her by also mentioning how your parents are so proud of her and miss her as well. You continue by talking about how you are going full-time with the company you are working for post-graduation. You talk about all the traveling you have been able to do and she gets to pitch in with the travels that she has done. It was like no time as passed, I mean above all you were best friends.

As the conversation begins to die down you realize how close the two of you became. You are sitting on a couch with your legs hanging over her lap and her hands on your knee.

A sigh escapes your lips as you close your eyes and take in the moment. You feel her hand begin to make its way to your thigh.

"Seeing you in the crowd today was something else," Caitlin begins. You cut her off, "Well I made a promise once to be there if a certain someone that if they made it to the championship, I would be there."

"If???" Caitlin yells with a fake offended tone and slaps your knee. You let out a little yelp, "Okay, okay, when." Your eyes roll as she starts to draw patterns on your leg.

After another long pause, Caitlin speaks again.

"I think we made a mistake," she says not daring to look you in the eye.

If you were going to be honest, you never wanted to end things when you went to college but you weren't going to make things harder than they had to be. Long distance wouldn't have worked for the two of you. You would have managed but with her schedule and yours, it would have done more damage than good. So you didn't fight her but there were numerous times that you wish would would have fought for her on ending things.

"I think I made a mistake," she continues as she finally looks up at you. You take her hands in yours and reply, "It was the right decision at the time. We didn't know better, we were young."

You continue. "But that was then and here we are now," touching her arm and giving it a little squeeze. After seeing her and how she has filled out, you have been waiting to get your hands on her arms. "And we are both about to graduate and my plan was to come back to Iowa..."

"There is no one like you," she says as she leans closer to you. You let out a little laugh.

"No Caitlin, there is no one like you," you say as your hand comes up to cup her face. You both smile as your lips meet. It is like no time has passed, her lips are still so familiar.

After a few more kisses, you both moved to the bed. She curled up into your side and your arms made their around her. You are her home and she is yours.

"I love you," you whispered as you kissed her head.

"And I love you," she responds as you both drift to sleep, more at peace than either of you have felt over the past four years.

AN: TADA! Let me know your thoughts! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

Now go check out PART 2!

[pedge-page]

I really love and laugh over your Joel and Preggo. I was wondering about Joel and his mother-in-law. How does Preggo get along with her mother? Maybe mother-in-law who lives out of town comes for a quick visit ? I leave to you what the dynamics or what directions “the mother-in-law” could be!

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Mother-in-Law

^some inspo photos of Pedro with friend or his family. Momma is touchy but it's nonsexual. He's just eating it up.

Warnings: angry sex turns soft, brief oral F receiving, getting caught (not sexy), favoritism war

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You remember when your parents used to hate Joel. From the moment you announced your engagement, they frowned. Why not someone who has a more stable job? Went to college? Doesn't have white in his beard already in his 30s?

But when you refused to back down, they begrudgingly put up with him. And he went above and beyond to impress them. Gifts, kind gestures, helping around their house and treating them to nice dinners. 

But oh boy, the SECOND your Facebook friends let it slip that you were expecting, your parents flipped on a dime.

Joel was now their favorite child. 

And your mom was—

“I hope she makes that famous apple pie of-hers,” Joel says, a bounce in his voice as the two of you drive to your Mom’s house for the weekend. 

Your upper lip gets caught on your teeth as you scowl at his more-than-she-deserves giddy smile. “What about my apple pie?”

“You don’t make apple pie.”

True. "Well. If I did..."

“—Then it would be the best.”

“You’re just saying that because I expect you to. You probably would hate it.”

Joel opens his mouth but hesitates for a moment. “I don’t know how you want me to respond here. We’re talking about a fictional pie you’ve never made.”

Grrr fuck this man and his logic.

He tries to alleviate the subject—maybe you wanted to give baking HIM an apple pie a go? ”She did buy me that Kitchen-aide mixer..."

You shake your head. Not this again… “No, she bought it for me!"

"It was my Christmas gift she gave me.”

"Why would she get you a NICE kitchen aide thousand dollar mixer, when you don't even BAKE??? PLUS I'm her actual DAUGHTER??"

Joel just shrugs. It pains you but you will never admit it's most likely true. Your mom bought it for HIM and you got breast pumps and a barf blanket. She used to get you the over the top nice things, and Joel would get socks. But now…

Your mom always loved you, probably a bit more than most. Sometimes it was overbearing, but that’s how she is. She’s nurturing, caring, always cooking and taking care of everyone, running a million miles a minute yet still having time to tell you everything is going to be ok after you stubbed your toe and cried about a broken nail. 

Though, she also expected to be treated like royalty by Dad. Momma knew her worth, knew her value to the family and Dad would grovel if he didn’t give her exactly what she wanted the moment she wanted it.

You’re glad that Joel doesn’t have to deal with a nagging wife who needs to tend to her ridiculous wants and emotional turmoil whenever it falls over less he be beheaded for his insolence.

You narrow your eyes at your bopping himbo Joel now, completely unaware of your thoughts as he jams to the radio. 

What a lucky guy he is.

When you pull up outside the old ranch home, Joel hops out and smells the air like it’s the Bahamas.

He helps you down from the passenger side of the truck before you both jump at the sound of your Mom screeching from the porch.

“JOOOOOEEEELLLYYYYYYYY!!!!!!”

His eyes crinkle in a warm smile as the little yet fiery woman you call Mom comes rushing towards you two like a marathon speed walker, pumping her arms at a whopping 1 mile per hour.

He opens his arms and as your mother wraps herself in his embrace. “Hey you!”

“Oooooh! Ohhh you’re so thin!” 

You raise your eyebrow. Joel’s no heavy weight champion, but he’s got a dad bod ready to rival any of the neighbors—a body that you LOVE more than anything else as it is.

Finally seeing you behind him, she shoves Joel aside and wraps you up in his warm hug. “MY BABYGIRL!!!!”

That’s right, let’s remember the pregnant one here please!

Your mom is the same height as you, but that doesn’t stop her from getting on her tip toes to kiss your forehead like she always did since the day you were born. She marvels at the size of your belly, filled with excitement and wonder and familiarity. “Oh my gosh look how much you’ve grown already, are you sure it’s not twins??? I have twins on my uncle’s side so its entirely possible—oh my gosh you’re so—“

Please don’t say fat please don’t say fat…

“SKINNY! JOEL! Have you not been feeding her????”

You snicker and throw your arm around her shoulders. “That’s what I’VE been saying. Momma, he’s been limiting snack time.”

Joel rolls his eyes. The two of you ganging up on him wasn’t in the cards just 5 seconds ago when he was sweet Joely.

 “My poor starving baby starving my baby’s baby!” she muses, forces Joel to bend at the knee for her fat wet kiss on his scruffy cheek before rubbing her kisses into your head on the other side.

“Come, come in! I’ve made—“

“Pie?” Joel pipes up, his eyes tilted eagerly towards the overly touchy woman suffocating you both.

You roll your eyes, already smelling the apple and cinnamon in the air. Of COURSE she would make his favorite pie. She runs inside to set the table.

Joel starts unpacking the truck but you cross your arms and tap your foot.

“What?”

He towers over you with a duffel slumped over his shoulder. “—Not that shit."

“I'm just saying, she’s nice to you all the sudden. It’s weird—“

“Don’t start.” He interrupts, slamming the trunk with a startling bang. Those biceps look fucking delicious rippling under his tight tight shirt— "Just want her to think I'm good for ya. Not tryin' to replace you."

You scoff him, as if anyone else could pull a man like that except you. 

But Joel can still feel that tension radiating off you, knowing you won’t truly acknowledge what’s bothering you until it blows into something ridiculous.

“Jooeellyyyy?” your mother shouts from the kitchen window.

“JoElLeY” you mimic with annoyance. “I used to be the only one with cute nicknames, ya know. You used to just be ‘J guy-my-daughter-is-dating’. And that even AFTER we got married.”

He chuckles before giving you a peck on the lips and guiding your waddling self inside. Joel doesn’t want you thinking that he would ever choose your mom over you, of course not! 

Just, for the now, being on her favorable side was something he had been working towards for years. You would just have to put up with her lipstick stains on his cheek and endless praise from his mouth of her fabulous cooking for this the weekend.

- 

Your mom zips around the kitchen, going off about the new nail salon down the road, the garden beds that can’t keep the chipmunks away, and how your old ultrasounds to compare baby sizes.

Joel watches the way she waddles. It’s EXACTLY as you do, and he starts to think maybe it’s not the pregnancy that is giving you such a signature walk. You both sit down at the table together and sigh, biting into a cookie and making a nasty face before putting it back on the tray.

Oh.

Oh wow.

Joel has to hide his smirk. You claimed so often how you were NOTHING like your mom. Your mom was pushy, demanding, filled to the brim with extra energy that would come out of no where—ironically all the things that defined you but obviously was not obvious to his wife yet. 

Maybe it’s the slight difference between you two is exactly how Joel can relate to Momma—showing love through acts service. Your mom is constantly working around the kitchen, cleaning, cooking, and it has nothing to do with expectations. He can see the little smile on her face, the skip in her step—she loves taking care of her people. She likes that you whine because only she can make your favorite coffee cake the exact way you like it. That you credit your own excellent laundry folding skills thanks to her methods that prevent wrinkles without ironing. How she always had the BEST soups for when you’re sick as if they cured like medicine itself, even if its just poured from a can—its done so with love.

There’s a unique bond between mother and daughter that Joel gets to witness. It’s not self serving either. There’s a sense of personal gratitude in being able to care for someone that makes their world worth living in.

Other times you can be a total bitch but honestly? That’s just pregnancy talk.

“It’s a girl, isn’t it? Grandmother’s just know these things—“

“Mom, I called you a few weeks ago and told you it was a girl. You didn’t just guess—“

“Just as you had predicted!” Joel jumps in. “Grandmother’s intuition is a real thing, and this sweet }Cookie’s got it.” He winks towards her and sips the lovely tea she had made him.

Your mom begins to favor his conversation over yours. “And names…?” She asks expectedly.

“We’re—“

“Yours is definitely in the mix!” Joel boasts.

She clasps her hands together, not seeing the deathstare you were giving him. Momma’s name was only in the mix for MIDDLE names, not firsts. You both had agreed you wanted your baby to have her own unique first that belonged to just her. 

He ignores you for now, hoping you can see the ‘please forgive me’, in his pupils as your mom goes to hug and kiss his messy hair like a bird feeding its young in the nest.

You clear your throat, eager to get her hands off your man and back on to the one actually giving her the grandbaby. “I think it’s time we settle down in our room. Right Momma?”

“Oh, you know your way up, I wanted to show Joel some of my new kitchenware—I just couldn’t decide what to buy so I got everything, knowing you’d be by this weekend! Come on, you can pick the ones you like.”

She grasps his hand and guides him, side to side with her piddled feet, into the next room and leaving you alone.

-

The blunt edges of your chewed up nails dig into Joel’s meaty chest. there are wrinkles in your forehead from how tightly concentrated you are at riding back and forth on his cock, your belly dragging along his and hips slamming down aggressively as you ride him with the pent up fury of the day.

Joel’s got a mix of emotions: your tight pussy sucking him in, kissing your cervix with each swallow, deep and delicious in that tight heat, plus the sheer feel and sight of you so pregnant yet fucking him so furiously while he lies back and takes it all in, trying not to cum too soon—but also knowing you’re more angry than you are thinking about the sex you’re having, and you’re going to injure yourself by all this energy not driving you anywhere closer to an orgasm, and he knows  he has to works out the knot in your brain before you can let the knot in your tummy snap.

“Why are you so upset?” He asks as his head rubs up along the pillow from each bounce of your body atop him.

“M—m not—upset,” you stammer, your fingers gripping his flesh even harder and slamming yourself down on his cock like you want to hurt it.

You’re sweating, visibly aggravated and probably in pain but refuse to quit.

Maybe you need this, but as he glances down at your bulging pregnant belly that is also being shaken up like a martini, he decides that his unborn baby doesn’t need brain damage too from your furious fucking.

Joel’s hands glide up along your flexed arms until he’s cupping your cheeks gently, wiping the tear that is building along your eyelashes. You slow your pace until you’re just sitting on top, impaled on his cock and letting out an exhausted huff.

“So why are you upset?” He asks calmly.

“You’re MY husband,” you say, and though your voice is full of confidence at the statement, it quivers just a bit at the end. 

Joel knew you would be pent up. That your mom was too touchy with him, and in his good faith to keep her good favor, he leaned in and let her butter him up, gave her the attention and kisses and hugs she asked for, and now its getting to you, and you’re jealous of your own mother—

“--and I’m HER daughter. But now she’s acting like you’re her favorite child too, even though I’m the one giving the grandbaby here, I used to be her favorite kid! Just me! I used to be the one BEGGGING her to give ya a chance but now suddenly she’s also loving you, out of the fucking BLUE,  like you’re all special when IT SHOULD JUST BE ME—.”

He blinks for a second, and you squeeze your walls around him as if signaling you’ll cut it off if he dare try to act confused. 

“Wait, are you jealous… of me?” 

Your eyes drift away, just in time for Joel to have the worst fucking reaction by chuckling so hard that the two of you are rolling over to your side.

He wipes his reddened face and calms his breathing so he can talk.

“That why you’re fuckin’ me like you wanna break me?” 

Maybe you did want to make a point to anyone who might be in the house about the hierarchy over who’s got right’s to loving Joel…specifically, to make that clear TO Joel himself. 

He scootches as close as he can, despite the big baby between your middles, and rubs his nose along yours, his palm brushing your cheek and centering your focus entirely on him.

“I’d shoot myself if I had to spend more than just this weekend with your mom. She’s nice, but I couldn’t EVER stand around bein’ pinched in the cheeks like that. Always doting on my ass all day, tryin’ to service me and make me feel like a spoiled porcelain doll that needed nurturin’ like a baby 24/7. I’d feel like a useless fuck. I think she n’ I are kinda alike in that. Wantin’ to take care of what’s ours.”

You snort in the boogers pooling in your nostrils. 

“Look, It’s nice gettin’ praise, THAT you could give me more of.”

“I don’t wanna talk about my mom when you’re inside me.”

“Then lets talk about you being a momma while I’m inside you.”

“Yeah… but I liked being the only one she adored. Now I gotta share?? With you????”

You nod shyly but agree. “I do appreciate you. I’ll try better to show it.”

“Nah, don’t want you to change. N’ I need you to listen to this because I know you’re gonna leave some details out intentionally when you go tattlin’ to Maria—but being pregnant with you has been the best adventure we’ve been on so far. You keep me on my toes and keep life interesting. I like the smile on your face when I give ya something only I can give. The dance you do when you get your little cookie dough milkshake thing, and the pout you make when I tell ya no, and you get all cute on me and do some ridiculous shit that I can’t deny you anymore cuz fuck, I want you happy sooo bad, and I wanna be the one that does it. YOU make me feel special.”

He smiles, stroking the hair away from your eyes. “Think of it this way: when did she suddenly start showin’ me some special treatment? When I put a baby in your belly. That’s it. She’s happy to be getting a grand kid, and she knows I’m officially stuck with you so might as well get used to it. I’m here to stay. “Ya spent so long tryin’ to get her to like me. She does now. Job well done! You don’t have to stress anymore. No need to get all greedy, baby though I know that’s just your thing,” he teases, rubbing his knee along your thighs to part them again.

You furl your lower lip out in a childish pout. “I think the baby is making me possessive over my belongings.”

“Oh? I’m a belonging now?” He wiggles his eyes brows. Slightly more relaxed, he takes advantage and smoothes his palm down your arm, behind your waist to squeeze your ass.

He’s about to pull you in for a victory kiss when your eyes shoot open.

“Wait… am I… the useless spoiled porcelain doll that needs nurturing 24/7 that you have to dote on all day??????”

“No! No you’re not useless!”

He’s offering a sweet smile, rubbing your shoulder with encouragement as a pregnant pause fills the air.

“…you got anything else you wanna deny in that or just that one part.”

He licks his lips before flipping you on your back and sliding down between your legs.

“You know what the BEST pie is?”

T h e o n e  b e t w e e n  m y l  e g s, you mouth out into the air, your belly conveniently keeping your lips out of frame as Joel spread your pussy and blows cool air on your nub.

“S’the one between your legs,” he whispers sensually against your thigh, nipping it and growling before dragging the tip of his nose through your slit, inhaling your scent.

You smile and cover your face with both hands. He’s cheesy, but he’s a keeper. 

and maybe, just maybe, worth sharing the love with.

The love that is quickly about to be snuffed out for the both of you as your mom opens the door and begins asking "Joel did you want the red one or the blue--AH!"

Joel and you both frantically cover your lower half, his head accidetanlly bumping into your belly at the same you to strain your back trying to sit up.

"MOM, SERIOUSLY!?"

she slams the door closed but calls out through the wood: "Oh that is NOT appropriate for the baby!" before stammering away.

Joel just chuckles into your breasts. "How does she think I got the baby in you?"

You shake your head and smack him, trying to feel more ashamed then amused right now.

- - - -

More Momma in Law and Sarah

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-dinero @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

[caitified]

sunshine

kate martin x reader ( family series )

warnings:none

it was a chilly saturday morning, the kind where the air felt crisp, and the promise of autumn was in the air. soft light filtered through the curtains, and you stirred awake, nestled under the warm blankets beside kate. her arm was draped protectively over you, and the world outside seemed peaceful and still.

just as you were about to sink back into sleep, the familiar sound of little feet padded across the floor, followed by an enthusiastic voice. “mommy! mama!”

you smiled, knowing that your three-year-old daughter, eva, was up and ready to start the day. the door creaked open, and there she was, her wild bedhead standing on end and her favorite stuffed giraffe clutched tightly in her arms. “good morning!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up as she spotted you both.

“good morning, little one,” kate mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “come here, you sleepyhead.”

eva raced over, climbing into bed and settling between you both, a little bundle of warmth. “can we make pancakes?” she asked eagerly, her eyes shining with excitement.

“pancakes it is!” you said, propping yourself up on one elbow and looking over at kate, who was already smiling at the idea.

“how about we make them extra special today?” kate suggested, a playful glint in her eyes. “we can add chocolate chips and sprinkles!”

“yes! sprinkles!” eva cheered, her tiny fists pumping in the air.

after a few minutes of cuddling, you all finally rolled out of bed and headed to the kitchen. you put on your favorite cozy socks and helped eva wash her hands before getting started.

kate grabbed the mixing bowl while you gathered the ingredients. “let’s see, we need flour, eggs, milk… and don’t forget the chocolate chips!” you called over your shoulder as you rummaged through the pantry.

as you began mixing the batter, eva was eager to help. she stood on a chair next to you, her eyes wide with concentration as she carefully added the flour and sugar. “like this, mama?” she asked, her voice serious as she poured.

“exactly like that, sweetheart!” you encouraged, smiling at her determination.

“i want to mix!” she exclaimed, bouncing on her toes.

you handed her the whisk, and she began stirring with all her might. “look, i’m making magic pancakes!” eva announced, giggling at her own excitement.

“magic pancakes sound delicious!” kate chimed in, pouring the batter onto the griddle. the sizzle filled the kitchen, and the sweet aroma began to waft through the air.

after a little while, you all sat down together at the table, the stack of pancakes in front of you, topped with chocolate chips and colorful sprinkles. as eva took her first bite, her eyes widened in delight. “they’re so good!” she exclaimed, her mouth full.

“i think we should do this every weekend,” you said, looking at kate, who nodded in agreement.

“a pancake party?” she suggested, and you both shared a smile. “it’s a plan!”

after breakfast, you all cleaned up the kitchen and decided it was the perfect day to have a movie marathon. you set up the living room, pulling out blankets and pillows to create a cozy nest on the couch. eva grabbed her favorite princess movies and plopped down, eager to start.

as the opening credits rolled on the first film, you snuggled between kate and eva, who was already enraptured by the colorful characters dancing across the screen. you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them—kate, with her arm wrapped around eva, and the way they shared little giggles at the funny scenes.

“you know, when i was little, i wanted to be a princess,” eva said, her eyes wide with wonder.

“really? what kind of princess?” kate asked, brushing a lock of hair from eva’s forehead.

“a brave one!” she declared, puffing out her chest. “the kind that saves everyone!”

“a brave princess sounds perfect,” you said, squeezing her shoulder gently. “and you’re already brave just like her.”

as the day progressed, you watched movie after movie, each story more enchanting than the last. it felt like the world outside didn’t exist; it was just the three of you, wrapped up in your little bubble of warmth and laughter.

by the time the sun began to set, casting a golden glow through the window, eva’s eyelids started to droop. you looked over at kate, who was nodding off beside you. the combination of the cozy couch and the soft sounds of the movie seemed to lull both of them into a peaceful sleep.

gently, you shifted so you could wrap your arms around them, holding your little family close. you felt a swell of love in your heart, watching as they both nestled against you, their breathing synchronized in a gentle rhythm.

with a soft smile, you continued watching the movie, feeling a deep contentment wash over you. this was your life—filled with laughter, love, and quiet moments that made everything worth it.

as the credits began to roll, you turned off the television, letting the silence settle around you. you gazed at the two most important people in your life, their faces relaxed and peaceful in sleep. you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to each of their foreheads, whispering, “i love you both.”

in that moment, everything felt right, and you knew that days like this—filled with pancakes, movies, and cuddles—were the ones you’d cherish forever. you leaned back against the couch, allowing yourself to drift off into a peaceful nap, wrapped in the warmth of your little family.

thanks for reading! requests open

[cod-dump]

HEAR ME OUT PLS

Teen!Ghost waking up early to watch a Pokémon marathon right-

But kid!Roach also waking up early because he's a child and that's how they roll, but becoming fixated on the TV when the episode starts because of all the colours and the cool animal things and ends up watching with Simon.

Then they end up doing this every Saturday morning (when Pokémon airs for me, each week there's a marathon which starts at like 5:30 and ends at 10:30) and it just becomes this little thing for them.

Pokémon (teen!Ghost au)

___

He set his alarm early for this. A Pokémon marathon. He's seen it all by this point but he doesn't care.

Simon ran downstairs, Riley chasing after him. He propped the kitchen door open so Riley could go outside as he prepared the pup's breakfast before he focused on making his own breakfast and snacks for the marathon. He would've hijacked the TV in the basement but the chance of his father having to work, forcing him to move upstairs, was too high.

He's already warned his family of his plans and everyone seemed to be on the same page: Simon had the living room TV for the day and he was willing to fight anyone over it.

Simon had everything set up on the coffee table and end table. He will only be moving during commercial breaks unless there was an emergency. He was just setting the pillows up when Riley bounded into the living room... with Gary.

"Oh... Hi, Gary."

The kid stared at him silently before he looked to the TV. The marathon hadn't started yet but there was colorful commercials advertising toys, other shows, and some events. Gary was hypnotized.

"You wanna watch with me? You like Pokémon?"

Gary nodded and Simon decided this was the perfect opportunity to bond with the kid. He was skittish but he was warming up to everyone. He loved the pets, loved bothering John and Nik, and liked hanging out with Farah. She took up some babysitting with the agreement she would get paid even though she offered to do it for free in the beginning.

Gary wasn't close with Simon or Kyle.

"Want a waffle?"

That sealed the deal and Gary wandered over to the couch and got on. Simon knew he had less than twenty minutes to toast another waffle and add extra provisions for the addition of Gary. So he gave Gary his own waffle and ran into the kitchen to make another waffle before the marathon started.

_

John was heading downstairs quietly, knowing that Simon was glued to the TV and would snap if he was disturbed. So when he peeked into the living room he was shocked to see Gary on the couch with him, both absorbed by the TV. He took this opportunity to take a picture and send it to Phillip.

'Your kid likes Pokémon.'

John went on to the kitchen to silently make some coffee and get some food ready for the rest of the household. Riley had decided to join him, demanding attention by sitting at his feet while whining and tapping his paws.

"Si too focused to play with you, huh?"

John gave Riley a pat who licked his hand. He can't believe he was against getting this dog.

John finished making his cup of coffee when Kyle sneaked into the kitchen. John snorted when he saw he was dressed as a ninja. It was a cheap Halloween costume he bought with pocket money and it has made random appearances. Such as this morning.

"Son, what are you doing?"

"Blending in. If Simon sees me he might bite."

John snorts, "Sit down and I'll get you a plate."

Kyle chose to instead walk over and get in his father's space, pressing against him as he eyed his cup of coffee.

"Can I have some?"

"No, you're hyper enough as is."

"But-"

"No, it'll stunt your growth. Do you want to stay shorter than Simon forever?"

Kyle glared at him before he removed himself from his side to sit at the table. John refrains from laughing, he doesn't know how long that'll keep working and he doesn't want to push it. Kyle was pouting at the table when John gave him his plate.

"Simon is gonna be taller than me..."

"He's Nik's kid, he's going to be huge."

Farah walked in the kitchen, "I saw Gary with Simon."

"Great, he's replacing me with a new baby brother."

John grinned as he walked around and wrapped his arms around Kyle, "You're still my baby boy."

"DAD-"

John pressed several kisses to Kyle's head as he struggled to escaped, Farah laughing. Kyle was grinning even though he had a hand trying to shove his father away. Nikolai walked in at that moment, half asleep.

"Get any louder and Si is going to kill you."

John decided to show mercy, giving Kyle one last kiss before he released him. Farah was giggling and Kyle was forcing a frown by this point. Nik was on auto pilot, pressing a kiss to John's cheek as he passed before heading straight to the coffee pot.

John had a feeling Nik didn't see the scene in the living room and walked over. He had his phone out and silently showed Nik the picture he took, the man staring at the screen in confusion until he finally woke up enough to see what was on the screen.

"They're bonding," he muttered and John nodded.

"Over colorful, cartoon animals that do not exist in real life."

"It's adorable. I need that printed and hung on the wall."

Farah leaned over and whispered to Kyle, just low enough John couldn't hear. Kyle lit up with a grin before he stood up and ninja'd his way out of the kitchen. John sighed, turning to Farah who immediately gave him an innocent smile.

"What did you say to him?"

"Nothing," oh she had a charming smile, he would've believed her if he didn't know her.

Nikolai was the one to figure it out, way faster than what John would have.

"Those Pokémon ball things. The stuffed ones."

"Oh no-"

John raced out of the kitchen to stop Kyle before he signed his own death certificate. Farah laughed wickedly and Nik sipped his coffee, utterly content in the life he had.

___