#they were both dumb and mentally ill | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hyewka · 1 year ago

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idk if this is allowed but,

threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu

⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐

⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au

⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.”

Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”

“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”

You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.

Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.

This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.

You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.

“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”

Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.

You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.

“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”

You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.

Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.

Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”

Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”

You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.

“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.

“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”

Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”

“Two people, still very little.” he counters.

Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.

“Jihyo, Miyeon—”

“I fucked Miyeon.”

“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”

He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.

“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.

“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.

“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.

You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.

“Just beer.” You reply.

He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.

You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”

He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.

“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.

“Aye aye captain.”

He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”

You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”

Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.

You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”

“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.

Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.

…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.

The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.

You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.

“I’m fucking her ass here.”

Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.

Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.

You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”

You shake your head, dismissing him.

Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.

“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.

“But not a liar.”

“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”

“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.

Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”

God, this again!

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.

“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”

“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”

“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”

Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”

“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.

“Had someone nut in your ass?”

You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”

You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.

“Have you done it without a condom?”

You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.

“Is this an interrogation?”

Yeonjun shrugs.

“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.

Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.

Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”

You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.

“Gotten fingered?”

“Well no shit.”

Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”

“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.

Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”

“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”

“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”

Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”

“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”

“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”

Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.

You shudder remembering the scene.

“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”

You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”

“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.

You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”

Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.

“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.

You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.

“But I want to.”

…What.

That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.

Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-

“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.

He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”

You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.

He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”

Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.

The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”

You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.

But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”

You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”

Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”

He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”

Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.

But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”

At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.

Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.

And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.

That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.

Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.

Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”

And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”

Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”

The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.

Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”

You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”

This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.

Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”

“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”

You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?

Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”

“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.

Fuck it.

You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.

Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”

You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.

The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”

Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.

“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.

You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”

You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.

"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.

"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.

Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"

You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.

Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.

You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.

“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.

Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”

“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.

His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.

Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.

You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”

You nod, humming.

“Words princess.”

“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”

He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.

You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.

And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.

“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”

You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.

“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.

You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.

Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.

“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”

Can you even take that in your mouth?

He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.

“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.

You think you might just faint.

“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.

But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.

You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.

“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”

Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”

You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.

It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.

He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.

Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.

“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”

You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.

To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt x reader #beomgyu hard thoughts #yeonjun hard thoughts #✶ ━━ rana ; answered

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awfulalignmentcharts · 2 months ago

Text

what the f%#$ does ____ mean on that stupid ass ship chart

saw a few questions, so ask (the air) and ye shall receive.

top section

"describe their vibe" — you can interpret this at will. it's just a space to put whatever you think encapsulates the vibes of their dynamic/them as a relationship. it can be like a list of tropes, a dumb tweet screenshot, some other type of image, anything really.

everything else should be straightforward lmao.

rest of the shit below the cut so i don't take up your dash space.

continuums section

"repressed vs (sexually) open" — as it sounds. repressed as in like they're a prude or open as in they're down to bang on the regular.

"no libido vs terminally horny" — not horny to very horny lmao

"aggressively romantic vs allergic to PDA" — kinda like how private the character is/how embarrassed are they by the notion of displays of romance. do they prefer lowkey displays of romance or are they dramatic about it?

"(severely) mentally ill vs mentally stable" — fairly self-explanatory. are they full of mental problems or are they actually mentally sound?

"kms'ing over being in love vs blushing giggling twirling hair" — pretty much their reaction to being in love, specifically with the other person. do they hate the fact they love the other person, or are they super giddy that they're in love?

"doomed by the narrative vs blessed by the narrative" — it's a little open to interpretation but my usage of it for individual use is like how fucked over by the canon events are they individually? (if the relationship's doomed, they're probably both on the doomed end; if the relationship ISN'T doomed but one was severely fucked over by the story's events, then they could be in the doomed section while the other one could be hovering elsewhere)

"big spoon vs little spoon" — self-explanatory. it's cuddle time. who's the big spoon, who's the little spoon.

"the weapon vs the wielder" — ngl, this continuum may not actually work too well for some healthier ships, but the general vibe of it is like the weapon is the one who tends to do things at the wielder's behest. the weapon is commonly more of a warrior type, more of the "protector" (and may also have self-worth issues), while the wielder is the one that typically gets protected, may have a great deal of importance for some reason, and is sort of the "user" of the weapon. you're more than welcome to make your own interpretations of it lmao

the pyjamas — based on this image: (who's the sleepy old man with the candle that goes snork mimimimi vs the beautiful wife who's likely also a damsel in distress)

"jealous vs chill" — should be fairly self-explanatory, but like is the person chill with their partner, or do they easily get jealous when the attention isn't on them?

"has zero game vs insane game" — are they bitchless or can they pull bitches? regardless of charisma (or lack thereof), can they actually get laid or not

"functional vs soggy loser" — are they a functional member of society with their shit together or are they born-in-a-wet-cardboard-box, perpetually soggy, capital P Pathetic?

the other shit

"what brings them together?" — what are some reasons that this ship actually has grounds? what do they have going for their relationship?

"what is keeping them/kept them apart?" — were/are there any reasons why they haven't just kissed yet? what are those reasons?

"poorly describe their meetcute" — describe how they met but be funny about it.

"list their reductive fandom tropes/fandom appeal" — reasons why people might ship them or like the ship. (e.g. enemies to lovers, angel and demon dichotomy, etc.)

"who's the armrest?" — two guys. one likes to turn the other into an armrest by sticking their arm on the other's shoulder (or something; done possibly with the intent to annoy). who's the one that's being used as the armrest more often?

"who's the headrest?" — two guys. one puts their head on the other more frequently. who's the one that's more often turned into a head rest?

"who fell first?" — who fell in love first?

"who fell harder?" — who fell in love harder?

"who cooks" — should be obvious lmao

"who cleans up more messes?" — can be literal messes, or who more often deals with the fallout of the bullshit one of them gets up to.

"who's the bigger yearner?" — who yearns more?

"who confessed first?" — should be literal.

touch

should be fairly self-explanatory, but it's kinda like what is or isn't off limits to contact of any form from the other person. say character A is entirely red while character B is entirely purple. A is allergic to any form of contact anywhere from B, while B fucking loves anything from A.

#not a chart

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katyawooga · 5 months ago

Text

bf!reno hcs bc i'm mentally ill :3

→ fem reader !!! mix of sfw and nsfw

– he's the kind of bf to keep polaroids of your nudes in his wallet and swear up and down they're only for him (every turk has seen your tits by now) ((he brags about you and shows you off constantly))

– speaking of the turks... sure, your bare chest is no secret to them, but none of them actually know your name. you're known as "reno's girl," because he only ever refers to you as 'his girl' at work

– he's dumb and sees stupid shit on the internet and wants to do said stupid shit with you all the time (you may or may not have let him play with your pussy with an ice cube when he literally hands-and-knees begged you to try it)

– acts like he just became your boyfriend that very day, every day. legit bouncing off the walls he's so excited and silly and happy that you're his and he's yours

– cheek kisses are his favourite (to receive and to give) argue w the wall idgaf. he's also a biter, he'll bite your cheeks (face or ass he doesn't care) and he'll nibble anywhere he can

– his fingertips are calloused partially from wearing those fingerless gloves at work, and partially from playing electric guitar on his days off. he used to play a lot more as a teen and he's actually really good (he plays stupid meme-y love songs for you)

– sheds like a fuckin dog, like, there is red hair all over your apartment. his hairbrush is also never clean; it's full of long red hair and he's never even thought of cleaning it

– ^^^ adding onto this, your shower is terminally stained red (even after cleaning it multiple times) from how often he has to re-dye his roots and maintain the colour. he refuses to wash his hair with cold water to keep the colour staying vibrant. he's a turk but he's also a pussy

– the backshots are actually deadly, like... one time you two were so desperate and horny and your back actually cracked while he was fucking you. it didn't hurt or anything, it was just a pop, but it freaked both of you out a little

but ummm yeah i like him a very normal amount!!!!! i promise!!!!!!!!

#reno of the turks #reno ff7 #reno ffvii #reno x reader #reno x fem reader #reno headcanons #reno of the turks headcanons #reno sinclair #dee's drabbles

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d1s1ntegrated · 5 months ago

Note

hiii im back again !!!

can i request shiggy hcs for a reader who chronically bed rots (i was trying to find a better word for it instead of chronically but alas) but they basically just stay in bed watching whatever and sleeping (forgetting to eat is also a habit of mine when i do it ;-;)? thank u <33

OFC U CAN!!! i am also a chronic rotter. i know how it feels bb i got u!

bed rotting x shigaraki hcs

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

the first time tomura saw you bed rot, he thought you were sick.

"are you okay?? are you getting up?"

when you explained you just...couldn't...he nodded and crawled into bed next to you.

he and you both understand it's not the healthiest, but he's no stranger to a bad habit or two.

so when he learns that some days are just gonna be harder than others, he prepares like a mf

we're talking doomsday prepping.

he and a few other league members will go out and steal a bunch of shit: snacks, water bottles, etc

charges all the electronics and makes sure there are chargers nearby

gets nice clean pjs to lay in for you

regardless of whether its related to a chronic illness, mental shit, or not, he makes sure he learns what you need, if anything during that time.

because thats what he would want for himself :( thats what he needed. he understands it

helps you brush your hair out (he kinda sucks at it but hes doing his best okay)

sleeps next to you when you're sleeping, because gods know he needs it too

especially likes to watch shitty animated movies with you when you guts are awake

will send you memes/posts instead of showing them to you even though you're right. there.

you guys dont have to say anything to each other for hours on end, and you're still content just being there together.

plays dumb games on his phone

shows you him bullying villagers off his animal crossing island to get you to laugh

"i fucking hate barold hes so fucking ugly GET OFF MY FUCKING ISLAND YOU PLEB" (sorry barold lovers shiggy is NAWT a fan)

if you forget to eat, he will also forget, until you hear his stomach rumble and you both go "oh fuck"

adhd mode as fuck

gotta keep the big lights off for this

if you're the only one in that headspace, he'll do his best to just be there for you and make sure you take care of yourself

even if that means dragging you by a foot to brush your teeth or at least have a quick rinse in the shower

cause he knows if you dont, you'll feel bad for not

but he's very gentle and understanding always, because hes been there

and he will continue to be there regardless

all he cares about is that you're at least safe and healthy with him

cuddles and kisses you incessantly

just loves being next to you always, this just gives him an excuse to be clingy

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

okay this was really cute, also helped me channel some of my own personal guilt ab bed rotting ;-;

thank u for the request <3

shit like this gives me the motivation to not only keep writing, but to be kinder to myself, because thats what shig would want. i hope this has the same effect for you guys.

love u all, take care of urself <3

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #mha #bnha #my hero academia #mha shigaraki #shigaraki headcanons #tenko shimura #myposts #myhcs #shigaraki fluff #myasks

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serejae · 5 months ago

Text

WE CANT BE FRIENDS | 23. SO FOR NOW ITS ONLY ME

(written + smau at the end)

prev | next

pairing : myungjae x fem!reader | genre : angst fluff | w.c 1309

a/n: cause if one day u wake up and find that ur missing me and ur heart starts to wonder where on this earth i could be thinking maybe you'd come back here to the place that we'd meet and you'll see me waiting for u on he corner of the street (if u understand kiss me).

10 things i hate about you + the notebook references

wrote this while i was sick so if u hate u hate sick ppl | @onedoornet

mstl

taglist @lilriswife4life @cherrytaesan @tubatu-lovie @woonsbot @guiltysungho @taylorluvation @kage-yaa @lionhanie @dearly-somber @nicholasluvbot @nujeskz @unhakki @lblossom21 @kirbyyluvs @seunghancore @nctrawberries @i03jae @icewons @miidorei @hanbinniesmango @dongminz @helpsplease @sol3chu @letwiiparkjay @woorcve @brachioswrld

riwoo and taesan laid on jaehyuns bed watching him spin on his chair

“i dont know what to do…do i just give up?? she already has jeong-“

“gosh please dont say his name.” taesan grumbled

“i cant stand hearing him one more time without seeinf his feet in my face.” taesan looked up at the ceiling. riwoo sat up looking at jaehyun

“sorry, but theres no point in chasing after yn anymore” jaehyun put his head in his hands

“what do you mean theres no point? you did all this work just to end up back at no where?” riwoo stood up and walked towards jaehyun

“maybe this was just some dumb lesson that this will be a mistake ill have to live with for the rest of my life”

riwoo saw the tears start to form in jaehyuns eyes and sighed

“jaehyun do like yn or not?”

jaehyun nodded

“and was she worth all this trouble?”

“she is but jaehyun-“

“STOP IT!” taesan yelled

“jeong jaehyun” riwoo started

“STOP” they both looked over at the black haired boy sprawled out on the bed

“he isnt half the man you are and he certainly isnt the man for yn. go.

go get your girl.”

jaehyun jumped to his feet and ran out the house

“is he gonna run to her house…?” taesan propped himself up

“love is love taesan”

the whole day moved in slow motion. between your thoughts on the date tonight, to the night with jaehyun. suddenly the clock fast forward and now it was 6:30. you were already ready, but not dressed as you were currently walking back and forth debating on going to the bathroom and washing your face and just going to bed and canceling the date.

just then the doorbell rings, mentally cursing yourself, the clock reads 6:37. why was jeong jaehyun so early? making your way to the door you peer it open slightly

"give me 5-"

"yn."

myung jaehyun stood out there and he seemed stressed, widening your door he walked in.

closing the door behind you, you stared at his back as he turned away.

"i knew you were debating on going on the date, yn...

go on the date.

go on the date with him"

you stayed silent and jaehyun turned around to you, walking up to you he grabbed your hand into his.

"do you miss me?" he asked staring into your eyes hoping for a clear answer

"i'm not sure how i feel...

i feel like that i like you but i dont know jaehyun"

he nodded and smiled slightly

"go with him"

"but you didnt-" you said eyebrows furrowed not wanting to betray jaehyun as he didn't go on his date

"i knew what i wanted yn, i wanted you, it's always been you. go on the date and if tomorrow, one day, one month, one year

fuck, just anytime if you even feel it in your bones that you miss me, come back to the place where we met and I'll be there. you don't have to know what you want. you don't have to feel like you want to forgive me or a relationship, but as long as you want me I'll be there for you to come back to. i'm not going anywhere

I'll wait as long as i need until you want me again."

the bell rang making you look over at the clock, 7:01. you turn back to jaehyun and see him nod. running back to your room you quickly get dressed and grab your things.

"i'll leave after you, i promise to lock your door"

smiling at him you open the door away from myung jaehyun.

it wasn't that the date was unenjoyable, it wasn't for you. jeong jaehyun didn't prioritize you. he didn't prioritize your opinions, feelings, or wants. he constantly talked about himself, his goodlooks, his trophies, his life, he just wasn't who you saw yourself waking up to every day. tapping the glass cup that was in front of you you ignored everything he said

while he was talking you heard something from the other table that made you dilute whatever jeong had to say.

"i think we should end things"

"what? are you serious?! after everything we've worked through and done together? youre just gonna throw it away?"

"its not that its just me. i just think this relationship will distract me from my job"

"hey...i'll be there for you, through the good and the bad. we never know until we try."

"i have no doubt youre going to be there for me, your that kind of person and that's why i love you, but I'm scared I'm going to hurt you."

"and you think ending things won't hurt me? even if its on good terms it might as well end on bad terms...

can you live without me?"

you see the other person shake their head

"then if you break up with me you're going to miss me either way. and come back, so why make it harder for yourself and mess up now when you don't even know? maybe we can work through it, i want this to be something that makes our relationship stronger, not harder.

cause thats what love is

and i love you, so much."

"yn?" jeong jaehyun asked

"yeah?" you said being knocked out of lalaland

"did you even listen to me talk about the history of football?"

"i- uh....

i need to go."

good thing you hadnt ordered anything yet because you took off running ignoring your name being called from jeong, you knew you had one place to go and one place to be

home

"wow shes a fast runner" jeong jaehyun said as he watched you run

"can you get out of my house"

woonhak groaned for the 47th time as jaehyun paced back and forth in his living room as he edited the new clips.

"so you told yn to go on the date with the other jaehyun and then you ran here just to walk around ?” woonhak asked resting his head on the couch pillow and staring at jaehyun peeking from the window

"i'm waiting for some...one" he said as he fixed the blinds trying to find the perfect angle "why are your blinds so stiff?" jaehyun complained

"i never open my blinds" woonhak shruged "so why are you waiting for yn at MY house?"

jaehyun looked over at woonak and spoke "we met here, when you introduced her to me that day."

"okay so why do you have to meet her here NOW?"

"you dont get true love do you?"

"i dont get maniacs"

"if she changes her mind this is the first place she will go-"

thats when woonhaks door gets banged on

jaehyun runs to the door and opens it, you jump to wrap your arms around him to which he wraps his arms around you

"can you live without me?" you asked as you look up at jaehyun

he shook his head

"good, cause i want you. and we're going to have to work though this together if you want me too...

i want this whole breakup thing to make our relationship stronger, i want us to last and I'm willing to fight for us because i want you and me to be the ideal image for romance, even during times when it gets hard for us. i just need you to not leave when it does..."

he nodded and smiled a bit

"i wont leave you anymore...

have you been listening to my music?" jaehyun called you out recognizing the lyrics

you let out a laugh "way to ruin the moment but maybe..."

"perfect."

you both turn to see woonhak filming with his phone

"oh i'm so passing this class!

okay i'm serious get out, both of you. also lock the door on your way out."

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killykstudio · 1 year ago

Text

Melancholia

Miguel O'Hara x Cheated on!Reader

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6;

Warnings: 18+, no minors, heavy smut, fingering , spanking , dom! Miguel, dirty talking, mention of mental illness, self loathing.

Summary: after taking care of you, Miguel decides that you deserve a punishment due to your behaviour.

Author's note: since there are a lot of Spanish sentences in this part I've put the translation near to them, so enjoy!

;

"uno" Spank!

"dos" Spank!

"T-tres" Spank!

"cua-a-tro" Spank!

"c-cHinCO" Spank!

"chinco"(it's "chinco" (five))

Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank!

"m-miguel!" You moaned.

"Empecemos... De nuevo" (let's try it again). His voice was suave, sultry and deep. You whimper.

"u-uno" Spank!

...

You forgot for how long he has been torturing your delicate buns. You were still wearing his short , but their legs were pulled up enough to show your skin.He made you count all the slaps he gave you in Spanish. After all you were the one to ask him to teach you the language.Every time you inevitably got the numbers pronunciation wrong ,he would start all over again. at every hit ,you rewarded him with a moan from your plumb lips, that he has bitten to the point of draining blood. His name slips from your mouth like a prayer, but with difficulty , since he has put two fingers in your mouth. You were already a mess , drooling all over the sheets and feeling your slit becoming more and more wet at every slap.

"c-cin-quen-t-ta"(fifty) Spank!

"Bien..." His finger leaves your mouth with pop. A string of saliva still connects them to your mouth. He leans back, takes off his shirt, takes both of your wrists and ties them together. Then he props your ass higher and takes off his shorts from you.

"tan mojada... Solo por esto, muñeca? (So wet... Only from this, babydoll?)

You whine at the cold air on your slit. He takes with his huge hands your peach cheeks, opening them further , a string of cum leaving your cunt.

"esto coño es solo por para mí ¿Tengo razón? (this cunt is only for me , am I right?)

"what are y-" Spank!

You gasp by the sudden sting. Your cunt clenching at nothing.

"solo español" (only Spanish) his severe voice sending shivers to your spine

"s-í" you cry out

"bueña muñeca... Mereces una recompensa" ( good "girl"... You deserve a prize)

Immediately your cunt was filled by two thick fingers.

"ah! Miguel!"

He starts pounding into you with such a fierce speed, touching all your weak spots. Your mind starts going dumb. He doesn't seem to slow down. You present him with your cutest sounds.

"Miguel!....Fuck!" Spank!

Meanwhile destroying your body with waves of pleasure he takes his shorts stained by your juice and puts them in your mouth to ease your moans.

You are drooling all over the sheets. You nails digging so hard in your palm. You can feel it , your climax approaching. It feels divin-

"que maravilla"(wonderful).your eyes widen, your cunt clenching at nothing and your body squirming in search for him. He just pulled out his finger from you , leaving you desperate for your release.

He takes of his shorts from your mouth.

"Repite después de mí" ( repeat after me)

"Mi amor" (my love)

"M-Miguel pleas- Spank!

"Se honesta, ¿lo haces a propósito? Te gusta ser azotada por mí" ( be honest, you do it on purpose? You like being spanked by me)

"repite,mi amor" ( repeat, love)

"Mmi a-amor"

"Buena" (good girl)

He flips you over your back and leans down over your slit , just his breath almost making you cum.

"te amo" ( I love you) he rolls his tongue on your clit. The feeling makes your eye roll in your back

Slap!

You gasp in pleasure and arc your back . This time he gave you a less hard slap on your slit.

"te- te amo"

He does a long lick from your hole to your pulsing clit, then he sucks on it and release it with a pop ,only to continue doing cats licks on it.

"quiero que estemos juntos..."(I want us to stay together)As he saying it you feel his breath and his tongue playing on your nerves

"q-quieRo q-u-e estEmos jUntos" at this point you are a babbling mess.

"para siempre" (for ever)

"pa-pa-para siiemp-Ah!

Three fingers slip inside your folds, the sudden stretch making you see the stars.

"deja ese pendejo y quedate conmigo te tratare como te mereces..." (Leave that bastard and stay with me ,so I can treat you the way you deserve)

His speed increases more and more with you becoming more and more near your release

"Miguel! I'm cu- "Slap!

"FUCK!" slap!

Your vision is becoming more blurred, your nerves are on fire , your body it's starting to shake-

"Acaba para mi , muñeca" (cum for me , babydoll)

you raise your head and you meet his gaze...

"Fuck!" You cum just by his expression: full of lust , red eyes , his mouth and chin dirty by your juices, his curls in disorder. Fuck he looked so pussy drunk.

He carries you through your release, sucking your sensible bud and getting his finger out to plant his hand on your bladder. This makes your flames turn into an explosion of white pleasure. You scream his name again again

"Miguel! Miguel! Migue-

"¿Sí?"

Morning light hits your eyes , making you find cover under the sheets.

As your sleepiness was leaving your body and your brain started igniting your nerves back, you realised.

It was just a wet dream!?

"everything okay y/n?" You hear Miguel's voice from another room.

What the fuck? Why did I dream something like that... I mean...no,please... I can't be this stupid... Did I fall in love with him?! Just from an act of mercy?!Oh, God! I'm completely crazy! completely gone ! Also a maniac. He would think I'm repulsive if he knew. Poor Miguel being stuck with someone like me, he would be ashamed to have someone like me to like him. I feel so sorry for him, I mean...Wait...when did I fall asleep?... everything he said meanwhile he brought me to his bed...Him teach me how to say muNeCa...was... Me dreaming or...

Fuck! You feel... sticky down there... so you bring two fingers on your covered slit and touch it to check

You are soaking wet

"¿Muñeca?"

;

Author's notes: Yikes!! It was so difficult to write smut , but here we are! I think it was time for something spicy after all the drama even though it's just a dream. Anyway part 5 has been released, so go catch it! And thank you for reading!

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lillaydee · 3 days ago

Text

Delusions

Joel Miller (AU) / Reader (Narration by Unhinged, Delusional OFC)

When jealousy makes one see you through distorted, circus-mirrored glasses.

Word Count: 13,293

WARNINGS:Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Joel is in love, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Sexual Assault (On a Male Character), Drink Spiking, Delusions, Completely Unhinged (But Dumb as a Doornail) OFC, Descriptions of Bloody Attack, Mental Illness.

***

Nell had never understood the appeal of you. What did you have that she didn’t? She was so much prettier than you. Everyone said so. You didn’t even wear make up for God’s sake, and you bought clothes at discount shops. And yet people seemed drawn to you.

She loved you. She really did. You were her best friend. You had been since infancy. Your mom worked for her family. She was their housemaid. Your mom and her mom, Susan, got pregnant at around the same time. Your father was a long-haul truck driver, so he wasn’t home as often, and when she was born, her family hired a live-in nanny to help with her. Your mom had been looking for day care options for you when Susan suggested she just bring you over and the nanny could look after you both when she worked.

Her family loved you. They doted on you. When the time came for you to go to school, they offered to pay for you to get private education, same as her, so that way, the two of you wouldn’t be separated. You mom politely declined; your parents didn’t want you to be spoiled like that. They wanted you to grow up knowing where you came from, to understand the value of hard work and money. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that your family had no money. So, the two of you were separated during the school terms but spent a lot of time together during the holidays, when your mom would bring you to work with her.

You two remained close. Best friends. But Nell couldn’t help but notice that you had more friends than she did. Even her own friends from her private school ended up being more your friends than hers, and yet, your friends didn’t seem to like her so much. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that they were simple, mind-numbingly boring people. You kept getting invites to birthday parties and sleepovers, when she could only get parties and sleepovers at her place, and that too, normally ended up with her friends crowding around you, spending time and talking with you than her. They all invited you to their parties and sleepovers, but not her. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that their houses were not as well equipped as hers. She was just pointing out facts.

When the two of you turned sixteen, her parents got her a Mercedes. They wanted to get you one too, but you declined. Instead, you used your own money to buy a second-hand Mini Cooper that made so many creaks and groans when driven, you called it Creaky. Her parents reimbursed you for the money as a present instead.

Despite her having the nice car, you still had more friends cramped in your Creaky than she ever had in her Mercedes. Creaky was always full. She saw you and your friends (most of which were her friends before they were yours) laughing as it puttered along, filled tighter than a sardine can, driving down the street, off somewhere where she wasn’t invited, again. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that she had so many demands for her passengers. Did you know how much it cost to detail a car?

You made time for her, though. She would tell you her problems, and you would console her, gave her advice, and made her feel better. She really loved you. She didn’t know what she would do without you in her life.

She made it to an Ivy League university, her parents being large donors to a couple of them. You received a partial scholarship to the same university, and her parents offered to pay for the rest of your college fees, but you declined. You didn’t even want to go. You opted for the local community college, wanting to live at home and be close to your parents.

Nell, being the beautiful young woman that she was, had no problems getting the young men to fall for her. But for some reason, the young men never stuck. They would sleep with her, and more often than not, ghosted her. The few that stuck around seemed more interested in having her take them to fancy restaurants and buy them things than commit to her. And these guys didn’t like that she was sleeping with more than one guy, surprisingly. They often left her. Not her fault that she was so beautiful she needed to have more than one guy. She was just being fair.

You, on the other hand, were more reserved, and preferred to stay home and not party. You had one boyfriend throughout high school. But when his family moved across the country, the two of you broke up. And by the time you were in college, you were so content with focusing on your studies you didn’t get involved with anyone.

Every time Nell introduced you to one of her guys, they would end up asking about you often. Even when she was out clubbing, the guys she flirted with would recognize her from being your friend, and asked if they could get your number. Nell didn’t understand. You wouldn’t even sleep with anyone unless you were in love with them. And you didn’t have money. Your dates consisted of movies and tacos at the truck. And yet, all these guys were clamouring for you. You didn’t even wear sexy clothes. You stuck to your ponytail and jeans and shirts. You didn’t even get your boobs done. You didn’t even get lip injections. She couldn’t fathom it. What was your appeal?

But it’s okay. She was the one who was out there. She was the one who were getting dates every night. Not you. So, that’s something, right? But even with all the men she had slept with, there was one man she wanted so badly, but could never seem to get.

Joel Miller.

He was hot. So hot. Him and his brother Tommy did construction. They worked for their father. Nell had heard rumours about Joel. She could see it, in fact. The guys he used to share a locker room with were talking about it openly. They called him Hung Miller to distinguish between him and his brother. His ex-girlfriend was too shy and ladylike to talk about it. Nell set her eyes on him, going after him every chance she got. But he never gave her the time of day. She sampled Tommy once at the bar. He was big. But apparently Joel was bigger. And she wanted to sample Joel - badly. But he didn’t talk much. Never went to the bars as much as Tommy did. And when she tried to talk him up, he always made excuses and left.

Nell gave up in the end. She went to college and found herself a Law major who had money just like her, Tony. He got her. They have the same background. So, she decided, for now, she would stick with Tony. They went steady, and for once in her life, Nell found herself falling in love, and didn’t cheat on him at all.

When she told you about Tony, you were really excited for her. Finally, you had said, someone tamed Wild Nellie. She had giggled with you over FaceTime about it. She couldn’t wait for you to meet him, she said. How she wished you would find someone too. She wanted you to be happy. Like her. You replied with your standard you’re too busy with school to date. Nell rolled her eyes – you could graduate with your eyes closed. You were so smart.

When she finally introduced Tony to you, the two of you got along swimmingly. Nell was so happy. She was so in love with him. Tony would join the two of your when you FaceTime each other and made joking remarks at you. You only met him once, but you could tell he was a good guy. You were happy your friend found someone like him. Maybe her wild days are over.

Susan got sick that year. She was in a car accident and suffered a stroke during recovery. Nell was too busy in college to go home and help, so you did. You came by every day to help Susan out, even though her husband had hired help to help her with her recovery. You read to her, did crochets with her to help her hands get their dexterity back, swam with her, cooked with her, and called Nell every day so she could say hi to Susan. It wasn’t Nell’s fault you always called when she was busy doing college things.

When Tony found out about her mother, he wanted to visit, but she didn’t want to. She was having fun where she was. There were people around to take care of her mother. She wasn’t needed. And Tony made a remark where she should be more like you. Caring, kind, considerate, empathetic. That stung her. It was clear to her that even he thought you were better than her. Just like her parents, her friends, her exes. But she loved him, so she let it go.

When she went home for the summer, she discovered that her parents had hired someone to make their house more wheelchair friendly. Not just anyone, in fact, but the Miller brothers. She took this opportunity to try her luck with Joel again, just to feed her ego. But again, he rebuffed her. Seemingly uninterested in her at all. Which couldn’t be possible. Had he seen her? She was hot. How could he not want her? She divided her time spent during that summer trying to get his attention and watching you take care of her mother. She would wear the skimpiest bikini and lounged around the house in them, and Joel didn’t even look her way. She rubbed herself on him all the time, accidentally, of course, and he just moved out of the way. At one point, she even accidentally on purpose dropped her towel on him while he was working on the bathroom ramp, revealing her perfect, naked body. Still, he didn’t bat an eye at her.

And then one day she saw him looking at you longingly. You were crocheting with her mother, telling her a story, laughing merrily. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. She started noticing Joel would find reasons to work within your vicinity and tried to talk to you. Whenever you talked to him back, Joel would stand all awkwardly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly, looking flustered that you would give him the time of day.

And finally, on the last day of construction, just before he left, she saw him kiss you.

Nell slept with Tommy that night, just to get her frustrations out of the way. She told him how she couldn’t understand why Joel would choose you, and not her. Tommy told her that Joel had always had a thing for you. Since high school. But you and him both were in relationships, so he didn’t do anything about it.

Again, Nell didn’t get it. Why you?

That night, the night before she went back to college, she and Tommy fell asleep in her bed. Tony FaceTimed her, and she absentmindedly picked up. He saw that she was naked in bed with someone. And broke up with her on the spot.

Nell was broken hearted. She flew back the next day and begged him to give her another chance. He ignored her. She blamed you kissing Joel for her indiscretion. She obviously wouldn’t have slept with Tommy if she hadn’t seen you do that.

She went through the rest of her college years sleeping around and drinking her troubles away, especially since you told her you and Joel were officially dating now. You were so happy with him. She drank and slept around some more to cope with that. She failed her final year, having partied too much. It’s your fault, of course. Why couldn’t you just keep your happiness with the one man she wanted to yourself? Just before she left, she said goodbye to Tony. He had moved on, another Law major, who looked just about as boring as you were. He traded down, she thought. He politely said goodbye to her and told her he’s glad her mother was doing better. She wondered how he knew – and he told her he had called you from time to time to ask about Susan.

Oh.

When Nell got back in town, she received such a scolding and lecture from her father she couldn’t think straight. She drove to your house to vent, only to be told that you had moved out. She went to the new address and Joel answered the door.

You had moved in with Joel Miller, just last week. And the night before, he had asked you to marry him, and you had said yes, you told her excitedly.

You were sharing good news with her. But all Nell saw was red.

Why you? Why not her? What was so special about you that everyone, her own parents included, preferred you? Why did you get to be happy? Why not her?

Nell hugged you upon hearing the news. She looked at Joel, faux happiness on her face. He looked good. Mouth wateringly good.

She decided right there and then.

You had taken everyone from her.

She was going to take Joel Miller from you if it was the last thing she did.

***

Nell could see the challenges that she was going to face. Joel didn’t want to be alone with her at all. He went into the kitchen with you when you went to get drinks. When you went to the next room to answer a phone call, he went with you. You went to the bathroom; he went outside for a smoke – he must have some hideaway because Nell tried to follow but he was nowhere to be seen. When you decided to cook lunch, he helped you, never leaving your side. And you didn’t do the classic ‘no you should stay with Nell, entertain her’ thing her mother did to her father either.

God, what a clingy couple.

It didn’t help that Joel couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you either. A hand on your back, on your thigh, around your shoulder, and you were equally bad – letting him do that with her right there. How shameless.

She needed a game plan.

So, she tried the simplest thing first. Could she perhaps stay the night? She didn’t want to go home and face her father just yet. You looked at Joel, and he shrugged, telling you it was up to you. She’s your friend.

Oh, so now he’s not even friends with her?

After dinner, you put on a movie. You gave her your sleep sweats and a t-shirt to sleep in. You cuddled up to Joel to watch the movie, Nell on his other side. She surreptitiously made her way closer to him as the movie progressed, but just as she was about to get near enough to feel the beginnings of his body heat, he got up and went to the kitchen for a drink. When he came back, he sat on your other side, putting her plan to accidentally fall asleep on him to bed.

When you started to fall asleep, Joel lifted you up and brought you into the bedroom. Nell’s heart jumped. Finally. A chance to be alone. But Joel placed you on the bed, came back and shut the door. Not even a good night her way.

She woke up early the next morning to sounds of soft moans and grunts from your bedroom. She could hear him shushing you, his low sexy voice talking to you, but she couldn’t hear what he said exactly. Who would have sex when a guest was in the next room? She knew you. You didn’t even like sex that much. You’d only slept with what, three men? You were a prude. Inexperienced. Unlike her. You would never have sex with her in the next room. It was all so out of character for you. And you could never satisfy him in bed the way she could. There was no way Joel would want you like this, though. Nell didn’t get it. Why would he find you desirable and not her? I mean, you never got your hair done. You used the 2-in-1 shampoo for God’s sake. And your nails? You clipped them down, never even got a manicure. You didn’t even bother to look good. And here she was, someone who had spent so much money to look the way she did, and he wanted you?

Seriously. It boggles the mind. The good news was, Joel Miller was just a man. So, with your lack of interest in beauty care, surely he will see what he was missing if it was shoved in his face enough, right?

So when you came out looking freshly fucked, wearing only a shirt she assumed was his, she made sure to pretend she was still asleep. When she joined you in the kitchen, she was only wearing the shirt you loaned her. Let him have a peek at what he would be enjoying soon. But it seemed like Joel didn’t even notice her. He acted as if you were the only other person in the room. She needed more time, and more tactics. Show him what she could offer that you couldn’t.

She announced that she wanted to celebrate the happy couple. Dinner tonight? At the most expensive restaurant in town. Please? You told her that you and Joel were not that kind of people. The two of you prefer to keep it simple. Nell waved her hands off at you, telling you that a special celebration was in order. Come on, please?

You finally said okay.

So, at dinner that night, Nell flexed her flirting skills with Joel. She ordered the most expensive everything. Champagne, caviar, courses and courses of the most decadent and pricey stuff she knew you could never afford to lavish him with. She bought the two of you presents, a diamond bracelet for you, and a Rolex for Joel. She needed him to understand how serious she was about wanting him, how she could give you more than you could ever imagine. He didn’t really react to the watch the way she expected him to. Just looked at it, closed the box and pushed it towards you. And you, as always, declined the gifts, saying that she didn’t have to do this. Nell insisted, saying that you would never buy stuff like this anyway, so she would do it for you. She wore the two of you down and received a quiet thank you with a polite smile from both of you.

She had planted her first seed. You could never afford to buy him gifts like this.

When the meals arrived, Joel, again, was not reacting the way she wanted him to. He only talked to you in low voices, as if Nell wasn’t even there, unenthusiastically eating the food without any comments. And you, as usual, just looked uncomfortable with all the food and the many cutleries on the table. The two of you didn’t even finish your caviar. She tried to get the two of you to talk about the wedding, but you said it was too early to plan. And a lightbulb turned on in her head.

She will pay for the wedding. She will plan it! It’s genius. She will have access to Joel, and you will be none the wiser!

She held your hand, eyes brimming with fake happy tears, telling you that you deserve everything good, that you had always made her happy, and to let her do this for you. But again, you said no. It’s alright Nellie, we will take care of everything ourselves. No need to go out of your way for us. You patted her hand with yours, and that was when Nell saw your engagement ring for the first time. She had assumed he didn’t get you one, but apparently he did.

It was nothing to shout about. The diamond was small. It didn’t even look new. You told her that it was his mother’s ring. Nell cringed internally at that – what a cheapskate. He didn’t even buy her a new ring?

Something swelled in her heart. A realisation.

He didn’t really love you. He would spend money on a new one if he did. And he didn’t bother. Instead, he slapped on his late mother’s ratty, cheap old ring on you.

So, she made a comment on what a great idea that was, saved so much money, huh Joel? You smiled politely and told her that it was the thought that counted, his mother’s ring held a high value in your eyes, that he thought you special enough to give you something that was hers – the woman who gave birth to him, someone he loved very much.

Sure, Nell thought, whatever.

But she was convinced she had planted the second seed. He wasn’t willing to spend money on you. Surely that would plant some doubt in your head.

When leaving the restaurant, Nell asked if the two of you would like to go to a bar, but the two of you declined. She asked where you were going, maybe she could join you? But Joel quickly answered that the two of you wanted to spend the rest of the night alone. Again, very politely. She was starting to lose her patience. What’s with all the politeness? And couldn’t he just let go of your hand? Shove the fact that he wanted you and not her in her face, Joel Miller. Stupid man. Blind man.

But such a sexy man. A sexy man she wanted to try. She needed to. He was the only man who had ever rejected her. And he was brought down to his knees by you. You. Of all people. The one who only had nice things out of her parents generosity, the one who wore her handouts. The one who wore a brandless pump and home-sewn summer dress to dinner at a fancy restaurant.

She needed him to see that he was settling with you. She could tell that deep down, he was not that into you. How could he be? When he wouldn’t even spend money on you when it came to what was supposed to be the symbol of his love. He could have so much more with her. Even looking at him now, in his generic brand dress shirt and jeans, she could tell that you never bothered to shower him with gifts. What respectable woman would let a man as fine as Joel Miller wear generic brands? God, you were so stupid.

As she was driving out, she saw you pressed up against the door of his truck, him kissing you passionately. She wanted him to do that with her. God! It’s so infuriating! She drove around aimlessly for a while, before deciding to head to a club. And she saw the two of you again. At your favourite Taco Truck, shoving tacos into your mouths and laughing with each other, Joel looking so happy and content she wanted to scream. She spent thousands for dinner, and didn’t get so much as a smile from him – both of you looking so uncomfortable and out of place in the restaurant, and now you’re eating tacos and elated about it? Ugh!

Maybe he’s too much of a low life for her. Who preferred cheap dollar tacos to caviar? Maybe she should give up this quest to fuck Hung Miller and let the low-class man marry the low-class you.

But no. You had always taken everything that was hers. She was going to take what was yours. For once. See if you liked it. You should know what it felt like to have people that was yours taken away from you, and how much it hurt to see them happier with her than with you.

The next day, Nell went shopping. She spared no expense, buying Joel all the branded clothes she could get her hands on. She stopped by your place and saw that Joel’s truck was there, but your Creaky was not. She almost jumped with joy when she went knocking. Joel opened the door, but the smile on his face turned off when he realized it was her. He straight up told her that you were not home. Nell tried very hard not to take his obvious lack of enthusiasm to see her to heart, but she was starting to feel like he didn’t want to see her, which was impossible, of course.

She told him that she had presents for him. Without opening the door further he asked her why? She tried to push the door open, but he wouldn’t let her. So, she pressed up to the door as close as she could and told him a fine man such as himself deserve better than generic brands. He was engaged to her best friend now, and this was her way to try and be his friend. He told her there was absolutely no reason she should be his friend too. They didn’t even know each other. She told him they could get to know each other, her eyes basically fucking him up and down. He was about to tell her to come back when you were home when Creaky’s classic sounds came around the corner.

Nell took a disappointed step back, and Joel rushed out to greet you. She saw him talk to you quietly for a bit, and you asked her what she was doing there. She showed you the bags she had with her, presents for Joel, she said. You smiled politely and told her she didn’t have to do all that. She waved it off and said anything for her best friend’s new fiancé. When she drove off, she noticed that the bags were still outside, you and Joel discussing something, you obviously not looking too happy. She smiled smugly to herself. She would’ve gone mental if she had found a beautiful, rich woman such as herself at her door with such a handsome fiancé, and had gone shopping for him, at that.

She had planted another seed. You must have been jealous to find her there with all those expensive clothes for him. All she had to do was keep planting them. And her efforts will grow and be fruitful.

That night, she went clubbing again. Her parents had been at her ears all day about getting a job. She wasn’t interested. It wasn’t like she needed the money. So, she danced the night away, looking for someone to be a distraction for the night, until she could get her hands on Joel Miller. But no one was biting. In fact, men avoided her like the plague. She couldn’t understand it. And then, from afar, she saw Tommy. Perfect.

As she got nearer, she noticed something. He was wearing the clothes she had bought for Joel. And his Rolex. The very same one she had bought for Joel. She commented on them, and he just told her that Joel gave them to him, Joel was never comfortable with expensive stuff.

What? Of all the nerve!

He pulled her outside. She tried to kiss him, but he kept her at arm’s length. Told her that she had to stop. Stop what? Tommy knew she was after Joel. Not only had she openly complained about Joel choosing you instead of her to him at the beginning, but she had also openly tried to get his attention from the start. Everyone knew she was after Joel. Everyone could see, even you, Tommy said. She made it so obvious when they were working at her house. And now, she was making it even more so damn obvious. She had done to Joel what she had always done to the men she was after, which was throw money at them. Joel will never fall for that. He had never been impressed by money. He told her that Joel was in love with you. He wanted you, and not her. Please leave him alone. He’s marrying you. He’s happy.

He hasn’t married you yet, she told him, and left.

Her frustrations were burdensome that night. She didn’t get to bring anyone home; no one wanted to entertain her. She got rejected by Tommy, of all people. Joel had rejected her gifts to him. Tommy had the audacity to suggest that Joel would never want her.

And she also found out you knew. You knew all along she had her sights on Joel back then, and still you went after him. Seduced him. Dated him. Moved in with him. Agreed to marry him. And now, she realized, it must have been you that morning she spent the night at your place - you had the gall to initiate sex with him, knowing she was right in the next room. Show off much? She knew there was no way he could initiate sex with someone like you. She just knew it.

She could not let you get away with this. She could not let you marry Joel and trap him like this. You didn’t love him, you just wanted him because she had her sights on him first. Just like you wanted her friends. And her parents. And Tony. Why else would they all prefer you to her. The only explanation was that you had manipulated them somehow, just like you were doing to Joel. She had to put a stop to this before it’s too late.

She needed to talk to you. She needed to pretend she was still on your side, she had to befriend Joel somehow and warn him. She knew if she could just get him to see her properly, he would fall for her and leave you. She spent the next week trying to reach you. You were not at home. Neither was Joel. Her calls went unanswered, and messages unsent, but you hadn’t blocked her.

Where were you?

Finally after 10 days you returned her calls. You were on your honeymoon and didn’t have cell service.

What?

You and Joel eloped.

Joel was married.

To you, of all people.

And you didn’t even have the courtesy to invite her.

Obviously her usual tactics were not working.

As she hugged you with a fake congratulations, she made a new vow.

She needed to up her game.

***

WARNING: Light descriptions of Sexual Assault (On a Male Character)

Implied Drink Spiking

Some possibly inaccurate description of being drugged

Some descriptions of smut via voyeurism

You had a small gathering at a restaurant in town for your wedding and invited everyone. Everyone was so happy for you and Joel. You two had asked that in lieu of presents; everyone should donate something to the local children’s hospital where you worked. Nell had scoffed at this news. Just your MO. Saint Aria. You just had to be the one to do good. But she had to remember her end goal. She had to save Joel from you. So she smiled and clapped, along with everyone else, who had collectively decided to not engage her for long.

Every time she caught Joel alone and tried to engage him, someone conveniently needed him elsewhere, and he willingly followed. God. This guy was like a cow on a leash. No wonder it was so easy for you to trap him.

She tried to blend in, tried to catch up with the girls, as they say. But none of them wanted to linger with her. And none introduced their significant others to her. She tried to not let the fact that she was never invited to any of their weddings bother her, but it did. You were invited. You were bridesmaid, or maid of honour to quite a few of them. And she was cast out. She should’ve gotten used to it, all her friends gravitate towards you after she introduced you to them, but it still hurt. And now you had pulled the ultimate betrayal. Stealing Joel Miller from right under her. But patience, Nell. Patience. She had to play it cool, so that ultimately, people will see you for who you really were.

Her parents gave you a cheque for the hospital, and then another, just for the bride and groom. Despite the usual push and pull, they were insistent that you two accepted it, to start your life with, please, they said. Her father hugged Joel, asking him to take care of you, telling him that you were family, and now, so was he. He even danced with you after you had your father-daughter dance with your dad, your dad proudly declaring him your second father. You and Joel shared a dance, Joel holding you close, kissing you sweetly throughout.

Mr Miller got all choked up during his speech, talking about how much he and his wife loved you, and how his late first wife would have loved you, and that no one deserved that engagement ring of hers more than you. And if you already had two father figures, he would gladly accept being the third, and that he already loved you as the daughter he never had.

Susan talked about what a sweet one you were. Ever since you were a baby. Always giving in to Nell, never wanting a fight, never in a strop – the gentlest person, the best person they all knew, a fact which was greeted with a lot of cheers and murmured agreements from everyone. Your friends gushed about you. Joel’s friends and Tommy talked about how dreamy he got when he was crushing hard on you. How happy they all were that both of you had found each other. How perfect you were for each other.

After hearing the speeches, Nell couldn’t stand it anymore. She went outside under the guise of a smoke. Tommy was there, already halfway through his own cigarette. She complained out loud about you. Why did everyone love you so much? She had the advantage on you in every way that counted. She was better than you. Much better looking, so much richer, so much more experienced in bed, as he could testify, she’s sure. She could offer everyone more than you could. And yet people were gagging for your attention and left her out like the leper. People were so stupid. So fucking stupid.

Tommy exhaled his last puff after listening to her rants, telling her that maybe she should grow up, join the real world, look at herself and think about what really mattered to people when it came to choosing friends, found family and loved ones. And then he walked back inside, leaving her there, still stewing.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? What else mattered? Stupid man. He was just bitter she was lusting after his brother instead of him. Never mind. What could she expect from a low-class man-whore like Tommy Miller?

About a week after the reception, she decided to get back into action. She had contacted a man she knew who could get her things for the right price. She went over to your place, under the guise of bringing you a wedding present, waving your concerns away with her hand as usual. Joel had gone out running, and you were mixing something in a blender, making him a protein shake for when he came back. When Joel got home, Nell excused herself.

She watched your household for several weekends, learning your routines, your ins and outs, your movements. She was discrete, making sure you couldn’t see her. She needed to be careful. She had kept up the façade of staying away from the two of you, but staying friendly and calling you as she normally did. She couldn’t afford to have you suspicious.

One Saturday, your house was a little too quiet – Joel didn’t go running that morning. She got curious and went closer to see what was going on, prepared to pretend like she had just dropped by to give you something if need be. She went snooping at the windows, and finally, when she got to the kitchen windows, she saw what was delaying his run.

You were bent over behind the kitchen island, your shirt lifted up, Joel bent over you, his sweatpants lowered to his knees, his hands on your breasts, fucking you with such fervour you were reduced to a moaning mess. He was holding you close to him, his head next to yours, telling you that you made him feel so good, that he couldn’t get enough of you, that you were the sexiest woman in the world to him, that he needed you so much, loved you so much, that he wanted to put his baby in you, his hand snaking in between your legs and you shuddered and shook so wildly, screaming his name, as he made you cum. She watched as he finished inside you, collapsing on you, before pulling you to the floor where she could no longer see you both, but she could hear you two laughing and giggling and kissing, legs entangled on the kitchen floor.

Nell couldn’t believe her eyes. How could you do that to her? How could he? She was the one who had always made the effort to get him, and there he was, fucking your brains out. Just you wait, Joel Miller, she thought, as she made her way back to her car, her heart thumping with resolve.

The next day, she waited until Joel had gone out running. She had to be precise, she had timed everything. About five minutes before he was due back, she ran to your door, screaming your name, telling you that your mom had been in an accident, but no one could reach you. You immediately panicked, grabbed your purse and left, leaving the key under the pot for Joel. He never took his keys with him when he went running. She told you she would meet you at the hospital, and pretended to get into her car, as you peeled off the drive.

She went inside with the key you left, set things up, and waited on the couch.

Joel came back shortly, walking in through the slightly opened door, calling your name, placing his phone on the mantel. He froze when he saw her, before asking her where you were. She told him you had to run out to the store really quickly, you should be back any minute. He nodded, and seeing she was just sitting there scrolling through her phone, went into the kitchen. He took the shake you had prepared and drank it thirstily in several gulps. She heard his phone vibrate; saw that it was you calling him and hid it under the cushions. He came back into the living room and told her she should go. The two of you had plans. He should probably get ready.

Nell stalled, asking him where the two of you were going, could she come along? Joel quickly said no. He made a start to walk to the front door to open it for her when he stumbled. Joel couldn’t understand what was going on. He felt weird. His eyesight got all loopy, he felt drunk, his body felt heavy, his head disorientated. Nell got up and helped him stand, he tried to push her off, but she shushed him gently, and helped him to the couch. It took a few minutes for him to still – he kept trying to stand and get away from her, but after a few minutes his breathing relaxed and he laid still on the couch, both feet splayed on the floor, his head on the backrest, his hands limp by his sides, his eyes fighting to stay open.

Nell got to work. You would be back soon, and she needed to set the scene. She took his pants off and was immediately rewarded by what she had always wanted to confirm. Hung Miller was indeed, hung. Her mouth salivated at the sight of him, even flaccid. She sat between his splayed legs and put her mouth on him. He weakly tried to push her off, but she pinned his hands to the side, cooing at him to stop fighting it. You know you want this, Joel. I know you want me. I’m going to save you from her, Joel. It’s not right. This monster cock right here shouldn’t belong to a prude like her. He kept trying to push her off, fighting the drunken feeling in his head. She continued sucking him, it took a while before he even responded, thickening slightly under her assault. There you go, she crooned at him. Just as she was about to take him in her mouth again, the door fully opened.

You were standing right there, taking in what you came home to, after successfully reaching your mom through a phone call.

You calmly told her to get off your husband and get out of your house. She stammered excuses after excuses, telling you that they hadn’t meant for you to find out like this, that she was sorry, but they were in love, and she just wanted you to be happy, so she let you have him. Please Aria, forgive me, she said through tears. Please don’t leave him. He loves you, please Aria. You asked her how long? She told you it had been going on since she came back to town, at his office while you were at work. No one else knew, she swore. Again, you calmly told her to get out, you never wanted to see her again. She nodded weakly, and left, a satisfied smile on her face.

You looked at your husband, and immediately sensed something was wrong. He wasn’t responding to you the way a husband caught with his pants down would. You slapped his face to get him to focus on you, but it didn’t work. You tried to pull him up, but he was much heavier than you, and he fell back limply onto the couch. Your wrath turned into worry in an instant.

You called 911 immediately.

***

Nell waited for the fallout. Hours, days, weeks, and then a couple months went by, but none came. She hadn’t heard anything about you and Joel divorcing. She called a few people under the pretence of catching up, but no one entertained her. Everyone claimed to be busy and had no time to catch up. Some straight up declined her calls. But she saw a bunch of them hanging out at the usual spot, and then she noticed you. You and Joel were there - his arm happily around your shoulder, the two of you merrily laughing and chatting with your friends as if nothing happened.

You two were still together? How was that possible? Why didn’t it work? What else would it take? You literally came back to her giving your husband a blowjob, and you didn’t leave him? Didn’t you have any dignity at all?

She asked her parents if they had heard anything about you and Joel, and they said no. She tried calling Tommy, but he never picked up. Your mom didn’t pick up either. She was starting to feel left out. She had to find out.

She went to the usual club to find Tommy. He was there, this time with a woman, looking all cosy and intimate. He didn’t introduce her to Nell, and when Nell introduced herself, the woman looked away and busied herself with her phone. Tommy told her he didn’t have time for her tonight, he’s with someone. Nell asked anyway, if everything was fine with you and Joel as she had ‘heard some rumours’. Tommy took the lady by the hand and left. Nell went after him, asking him questions incessantly, but he ignored her.

She chased him and the woman all the way to his car before he aggressively walked towards her and warned her to leave him and his family the fuck alone. That he was done talking to her.

She got desperate. She went over to your house the next day. She waited until Joel came back from his run. When he saw her, he warned her to stay the fuck away from him and his wife. Nell tried to tell him that she was only doing that for their benefit, that they were meant to be together, it’s not too late. When you came out, she told you that she was in love with Joel, and he with her. You should take the high road and leave, let them be happy. Joel stood in front of you and raised his voice at her.

“Leave us alone. I am not kidding Nell. I don’t have any feelings for you. You and I are not together. We have never been together. And we will never be together. You are not fooling anyone. Be thankful I don’t have enough proof to report you for what you did. Leave us the fuck alone. Or I will get the law involved.”

“Joel, I understand you need to say this in front of Aria. But Joel, you don’t understand. She’s trapping you. She manipulated you. She made you believe we were a lie. Joel, please, open your eyes. Come back to me Joel. Please.”

Joel looked at her incredulously.

“You need help, Nell. Stay away from me. Stay away from my wife. Stay away from us.”

He turned around and took you in his arms, escorting you in. She called out to him again.

“Joel, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

***

“Joel, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

Joel huffed a long, frustrated breath. You just looked resigned and tired.

“How is that possible? I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, let alone fuck you. Get help Nell, seriously.”

He took you inside and shut the door.

Fuck.

Why the fuck would she say that? She had taken it too far, right? This was going to blow in her face, wasn’t it?

Shit.

Think Nell, think. Bigger game plan.

What an ass. She told him she was pregnant, and he dismissed her? What a twat. Any normal man would panic, and this dude was just looking at her like she was crazy. And you. You would think that any normal woman would freak the fuck out if some woman was blowing your husband and claimed to have an affair with him. Suspicious, at the very least. Doubtful, perhaps. Angry, even. But you just stood there and took it. Such a pushover. You were living proof that a fancy degree didn’t mean squat. Dumb bitch.

Welp. She should give up. She really should. There was no way she could get away with this.

But then she wouldn’t get him.

And she really wanted him.

Sure, at first it was just about sampling his famously monster cock, but in her quest to seduce him since the beginning, she had seen him around you. Seen your relationship as husband and wife. Even when he was just looking at you from afar as he was working back in her house all that time ago, Nell envied the way he looked at you. It was never lust. Even back then, he never looked at you like you were a piece of meat he wanted to fuck. He looked at you like there were no other women on this planet. And then there were the ways he acted around you. How he was with you. How loving. How gentle. How romantic. How passionate. How doting. Like his life revolved around you. Even drugged, he was resisting her, loyal to you.

No one had ever looked at her the way Joel looked at you. Not even Tony.

She wanted that. She wanted someone to treat her the way he treated you. But not just any man, she wanted him.

When she got home, she laid on her bed and thought hard about her life, or the lack of one. Her parents had been nagging her to get a job or go back to school. Figure out a life for herself, they said. She didn’t understand what the big deal was. Not like they were destitute. Her spending were change found at the bottom of the couch to her dad. Now they had given her a deadline. Get a job or go back to school within three months, or they will cut her off.

Great. Now she had to go back to school and learn something. Again. Realistically, what job could she get that would fit her lifestyle? She spent hundreds on manicure alone. What minimum wage job would keep that up?

Fuck.

Maybe Tommy was right. She should grow up. Think clearly. Objectively.

Why did it bother her so much that Joel was in love with you? She wondered if she would feel like this if he had married someone else. She kept fixating on you. The fact that you got him bothered her.

What was this animosity she had with you?

For years she kept blaming it on her parents. They preferred you. You were their dream daughter. They neglected her. Prioritized you. So, naturally, she held a grudge against you.

But did they?

The truth was, she couldn’t even say that they were ever neglectful of her. Sure, they had offered you a lot of things your parents couldn’t possibly afford, but it was always after her needs were taken care of first, and you never took their offer, at least not when you started having an after-school job. You had always found your own ways to get what you needed, worked hard for everything. When you were little, you wore her hand-me-downs, played with toys she no longer wanted, read books her parents bought for her that she never bothered to read, gave in to her when she didn’t get her way. She had always been their priority. You were always second.

And yet, you were the one who helped every day when Susan suffered from her stroke. She came home for one summer where she didn’t lift a finger to help her own mother and took off without looking back, spending their money on a whim until she got kicked out of the university and had nowhere else to go. Honestly, right now? Even she could see why they saw you as a daughter. And still, they prioritized her, supported her, loved her, spent money on her, and tried to help her better herself.

She realized then what her actual problem with you was. What she really couldn’t stand about you. It was the fact that you were born lesser than her - in status, looks, background, opportunities – yet you always came out on top. In everything.

She had grown up always getting what she wanted. You had to work hard for everything you wanted. And now, what she wanted was Joel, she tried so hard to capture his attention, and couldn’t even get him to glance at her. And you got him to cater to your every need without trying.

It pissed her off.

But now, she had gone too far. You had never been unkind to her. Her friends may have left her for you, but you had always stayed.

Maybe it’s time to come clean. Accept defeat.

Sigh. So far, taking Tommy’s advice, being a grown up, a good person, sucked.

There was a knock on her door. Her parents came in when she answered. They looked dead serious. Worried, too, she sensed. As soon as her mother sat on her bed, Nell felt a prickling at the back of her neck. They told her your mom had called them. Told them about the baby. Was it true? Was she pregnant? With Joel’s baby?

This was it. Just confess Nell. No going back.

Get it over with. Just confess. And it’ll all blow over soon.

Go on, just say it.

NO!

Instead, she nodded, tears falling thickly on her cheeks.

She told them ‘everything’. How she and Joel had always wanted each other, how they carried out an affair from the moment she got back, how you had caught them at your house together, how you had poisoned him against her, and now he wouldn’t admit to the affair at all. And now she was pregnant with his baby, and he wouldn’t take responsibility and it was your fault! She knew you weren’t as perfect as everyone thought you were. You were conspiring against her all along!

Her parents listened; Susan held her until she fell asleep.

When they left the room, they had a discussion on how to handle this matter delicately.

They left her to ‘mourn and be sad’ for a few days. They came in to talk to her every day. Made sure she was alright, that she ate, drank, showered, and slept. And then they told her that they had a plan. There was no way Joel was going to be able to back out of his responsibility this way. Come on, get ready. We’re going out.

They drove her to the hospital and told her she needed to get a paternity test. Joel will join them there.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

How was she going to get out of this one?

She refused, saying that she didn’t want to see you. No, dear, Aria won’t be there. He promised. So, she went, having no other option but to obey. Joel was, indeed, there. There was no sign of you anywhere. She put on a happy face, a façade for the ‘affair’ for her parents, and went to kiss him, but he took a step back. She could see her parents’ frustrations with him. But he just looked fed up with this whole arrangement.

The doctor asked her a few questions first, reminding her that the conversation may be recorded since this was contestable in court.

(Oh, shit. This had gone too far now, just stop with the whole play, Nell. Just fucking confess while you still could!)

The doctor asked her a list of questions. When was her last period. When was the last time they had sex. And more mundane, very private questions.

She answered all of them. Joel scoffing and rolling his eyes at every single one that involved his… supposed participation.

When she laid on the bed for the ultrasound, she reached out to Joel so that he could hold her hand. She had imagined Joel holding your hand if you were doing this. She wanted that. But he stayed stock still where he was, not even looking at her. Her parents were looking at her with unreadable expressions. Joel ignored her. Her parents didn’t say anything, didn’t intervene either. Her father looked like he wanted to say something, but he decided not to.

When the doctor conducted the ultrasound, of course, she found nothing.

She was not pregnant.

Was never pregnant.

Joel left the room immediately, after releasing a very long breath of annoyance.

When the doctor explained all this to her, Nell cried. She was hysterical. She cried so much her parents came over to console her.

Might as well commit to the bit now, she thought.

“Did I imagine it all? Oh God, what have I done? I have to find Aria and Joel. I have to apologize to them!”

She dramatically ran down the hall, calling for Joel. When she saw him, she told him she was sorry, she didn’t know what was happening to her. Please forgive me Joel. Please.

When Joel turned, Nell saw that you were there in his arms. You looked at her with tears in your eyes. You didn’t seem angry, but you had a look of… pity? She couldn’t stand it.

She saw red again.

You were the reason she had to stoop this low. She lunged forward to scratch your face, but security caught her by the waist and pulled her back. Joel immediately got you out of there, making sure she couldn’t get to you.

The next thing she knew, she was restrained, and then everything went black.

***

Susan and your mom went to visit Nell at the place where she was ‘resting’, at least, that was what her family told everyone. Your mom gave her flowers from you, telling her that you couldn’t make it, you were busy at work. But you did say hi and hoped that she was doing better.

Nell smiled and took the flowers from you. She was feeling much better, she told the two mothers. These past few months had helped a lot. She felt rested, clear, happy. She had worked hard at recovery. She was never diagnosed with anything, or at least she was never told that she suffered from anything, the doctors thought she just needed rest. A few months away from stress, just until her delusions went away.

The delusions, she had admitted to her therapist, that caused her to spiral and conjured an entire affair that never happened. That could not have possibly happened since Joel didn’t have an office where this affair had supposedly taken place at, since Joel was out of town the whole time the ‘pregnancy’ was supposedly conceived, working on a project in the next state over. The delusions that could have destroyed her best friend’s marriage. That could have torn families apart. She cried in therapy when she talked about it. She felt so guilty. How could she had spiralled that badly? Was she so hung up on a man who never paid her any attention? To the point of sexually assaulting him? What was wrong with her? She was so thankful that you and Joel decided not to press charges. So thankful that her parents saw through the whole thing and got her help.

She made so much progress. She slept better, ate better, took time to meditate, and really, really found herself, she told the therapist. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to rejoin society, but she felt as if she would do so much better than before. She finally saw the errors of her ways, and understood, for once in her life, why people were so drawn to you. She should be more like you. You were selfless, that’s why people loved you. You had always dedicated your life to serve others. Even chose a line of work that would make sick children feel better. What could be more noble? She was even thinking of going back to school, locally, of course, so she could be close to her parents.

She told Susan and your mom that she would be released soon, but if it’s alright with her parents, she would take it easy for a while, before looking into courses she could take at the local university. One step at a time.

Both ladies heaved a sigh of relief, thankful that she was doing better.

***

When Nell finally went home a couple of months later, she had not seen you or Joel in eight months. When she got home, she told you, via text, that she wasn’t quite ready to face you, the embarrassment was too great. You understood. The two of you spent a couple of weeks just texting, like old times, before moving on to calls, and eventually, FaceTime.

The first time you FaceTime with her, she was nervous. She didn’t know how forgiving you were, just the thought of seeing your face mortified her. But you were beyond understanding, seemingly just happy to see your friend well again. Joel never joined your sessions, though. He wasn’t ready to face her, and to be frank, he wasn’t quite as trusting as you, believing that you should be careful with her, that he had an unease at the pit of his stomach about her. That you were too nice, too gullible. He just didn’t trust her at all. You understood, you would feel like that too, if you were him, after what she had done to him. So you and Nell chatted on FaceTime alone. She said you looked different – you were glowing. You brushed it off, saying she was seeing her own reflection on the phone, the two of you giggling like schoolgirls again. It was nice to get your old friend back, newly improved, in fact. She seemed lighter, merrier. You were proud of her for getting help.

After two months of being home, Nell said she was finally ready to meet with you. In public, of course. The two of you had agreed to meet at a café you frequented. When she arrived, you were already there. You looked radiant.

And very pregnant.

Nell hugged you, disbelief in her eyes. You were just entering your eighth month and made fun of your waddling as you sat back down. You wanted to surprise her, you said. She seemed genuinely happy for you. Was it a boy or girl? Have you picked a name? When were you due? She was excited when you referred to her as Auntie Nell, touched that you were even considering having her in your baby’s life after everything she had done to you.

After the initial glow of baby talk had passed, Nell took your hand in hers, and looked you in the eyes. She was teary, looking so apologetic, and begged you for forgiveness. She didn’t know what came over her. I am so sorry, Aria. Please, sister, forgive me. You hugged her tight, telling her it’s okay. It’s all in the past. Let’s move forward, yeah? When Nell finally let go of you, her face was wet with tears, but she felt a thousand times lighter.

The two of you chatted a bit more, catching up on gossip, and the ongoings in the town. Finally, Joel’s truck pulled up. Nell froze. Joel got out to help you up and get into the truck. Nell kept her distance after giving you one last hug and told Joel how sorry she was about everything. She would take it all back if she could. She knew he might never forgive her, ever, but hoped that one day he would find it in his heart to forgive her. Joel nodded curtly, before he helped you into the truck, gave you a quick kiss, and ran around to the driver’s side.

***

About two weeks before your due date, you were advised to stay home. You had gotten so big everything was swollen, and moving became a challenge. You told Nell this over the phone as you sat on your couch trying to decide what movie to watch, and how bored you were just sitting at home doing nothing. You couldn’t even clean – bending over became almost impossible without the possibility of toppling over. After you hung up, you started a movie, and received a text from Nell, asking if she and her mother could come over and keep you company – maybe watch the movie with you? Bring you Chinese food? They could bring their maid over; help you clean a bit?

You immediately said yes, your hunger and exasperation at your messy house taking over.

When she knocked on the door, you answered after what felt like five minutes, getting up from the couch unassisted had become some CrossFit challenge with how big you had gotten. Nell came in, bags of Chinese take-out in her hands, marveling at how much baby stuff was in your living room. So many plushies and teddy bears and half made furniture, waiting for Joel to get home to finish assembling. You asked her where Susan was. You thought she was coming? Ah, she’s parking the car, she said.

You leaned out the door to greet her, but Nell’s car was right there in your driveway, no Susan anywhere.

Something sharp pricked you in the neck.

And a pair of hands caught you as you lost consciousness.

***

WARNING: DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOODY ATTACK

Nell sat in the defendant’s chair in the large courtroom, waiting for the jury to return. It had been a long few months for her. She couldn’t believe she was here. The nerve of some people. What was so wrong with wanting something, or in her case, someone? Her dumbass of a lawyer didn’t even try. She wanted to take the deal, for crying out loud. Screw the evidence. She was going to fight this. The juries will see she was in the right.

She had waited until you were awake again. She tied you up so you wouldn’t struggle. She needed to tell you she won, after all. Nice guys finish last, all that. She needed the satisfaction. She couldn’t believe how gullible you were. To trust her again after everything. Such a stupid bitch. Who would do that? Well, you would, evidently.

You kept asking her if she had taken her medication that day. That she was not thinking straight. She laughed at the idea that you were so straightlaced that you didn’t even know about tonguing your meds. How did you ever satisfy Joel, she had asked, if you didn’t even know what a tongue could do? He doesn’t deserve you, you prude. And what made you think she needed medications in the first place? She faked the whole delusions thing, you idiot. She didn’t spend years at acting school for nothing. She may have flunked out, but she did learn some useful skills. Her parents had started threatening to cut her off if she didn’t get a job soon, and she wanted Joel. Having delusional thoughts seemed the perfect opportunity to get out of adult responsibilities, and simultaneously, break your joke of a marriage up. That place her parents had sent her to was basically a luxurious five-star spa, and she got to lounge about for eight months at the price of spouting bullshit her therapists wanted to hear every couple of days.

You asked her why. What had you ever done to her to merit this? Because you always needed to be better than her. Even in infancy, you started walking before she did, even though she was born two whole weeks before you. You started talking first. You got better grades than her. Did better at piano than her. Got the best parts in school plays than her. You were liked better than her. Even her parents thought of you as the better daughter, even though they were not your real parents. All her friends liked you better than her. Her boyfriends liked you more than her. Men in general wanted you more than her. You got into a better programme than her in college, a programme that her parents were so proud of, they kept telling everyone about it, and yet her own accomplishments went unnoticed. And your biggest mistake of all? You let Joel Miller fall in love with you. You married him. Got pregnant with his baby. It should’ve been her. She deserved it, not you. She could offer him so much more than you could.

But it had become quite clear that he was besotted with you, and as long as you were around, he was never going to get over you.

So, you needed to go.

You begged her not to harm your baby. Please, don’t do anything to my baby. Please, Nell.

Oh you silly bitch, she would never do anything to Joel Miller’s baby. She was going to be there for him and raise the baby with him. It’s you that’s in her way, not your baby.

And with that, she jabbed you with another dose of sedative. She put gloves on and began to cut your baby out of your stomach.

She didn’t anticipate the problems she would face. She had watched so many videos on YouTube, but still, it took forever to cut you open. She had to be careful. She didn’t want to hurt the baby. She needed the baby alive, sure that Joel would mourn too long if he lost you both. The baby was the excuse she needed to spend time with him, to help him. After what felt like hours, she managed to cut you open.

She didn’t anticipate how much blood would be involved. But she persevered. She cut the layers that follow, and finally, after some struggles with an obscene amount of fluid, managed to get your baby out. It’s a girl. She was so happy. She pictured herself and Joel raising this little girl together, happiness finally within reach.

But the baby wasn’t crying. Wasn’t breathing. She panicked. If this baby died, Joel would never recover from your death. She needed this baby alive. Fuck. She had to call 911. But she couldn’t risk you being rescued. It was vital that you must die. She checked where she thought your pulse would be. She couldn’t really feel anything, couldn’t hear your heartbeat either. She washed her hands and got rid of the gloves and plastic apron she was wearing. She took a deep breath and dialled 911.

She gave the performance of a lifetime. She had just walked in to find you bleeding on the floor, your baby cut out of you. Please send help. She couldn’t find a pulse. Oh my God please don’t let my sister die. Please God. Her baby is not breathing, please hurry. She sobbed her way through the call, all the way until the paramedics and the police arrived minutes later. They cut the umbilical cord and cleared your baby’s airway, and after a while, she cried. You were still breathing, albeit very slowly. You had lost a lot of blood.

Nell panicked. You couldn’t still be alive. But she couldn’t do anything. She was surrounded by the police and paramedics. As they were loading you into the ambulance, a panicked Joel and Tommy arrived. Joel said something to Tommy, and Tommy went right inside. Joel climbed into the ambulance and off it went at full speed. She was stuck there, having to give her statement to the police. She was still keeping up with her acting skills, the grieving best friend who was so traumatized she could hardly speak. Someone must have attacked you, and her arrival must have spooked them away. She pleaded with them to let her go to the hospital to be with you. They ignored her pleas. She needed to answer more questions.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Tommy speak to an officer. He brought the officer inside, and they came back out, a plastic evidence bag with a teddy bear in it in the officer’s hand.

She was brought to the station and placed in an interrogation room. She was there for hours. They kept asking her to repeat her version of events again and again. She was exhausted. She later learnt that she was there for eight hours. When she was finally let out, she saw Tommy giving his statement to an officer, along with some of your friends. But they weren’t held in an interrogation room. No one would tell her anything about you or your baby.

She rushed to the hospital, keeping up the appearance of being the worried best friend. There were police officers outside your room. They wouldn’t let her in. She saw a grief-stricken Joel sitting by your bed, his eyes red, his hair dishevelled, you unconscious still, your hand in his. He kept kissing your hand and stroking your head, worry and love written all over his very tired face. She imagined him looking at her with such love one day once you passed.

She went to the nursery and found your parents and Joel’s father and stepmother inside, holding your baby. When they left the room, they saw her, but walked away. Police officers guarded the nursery as well, and wouldn’t let her in. She followed the path your parents and Joel’s took and saw them hugging her parents. They looked at her with disappointment on their faces, and before she knew it, cuffs were slapped on her wrists, and she was arrested for attempted murder in the first degree.

The three sets of parents didn’t do anything to stop the officers, even her own. She was brought back to the interrogation room. She was protesting the whole way, saying that she needed to be with you. She didn’t understand why they arrested her. What evidence did they have to treat you this way?

An officer placed an iPad on the table, and pressed play.

It was a snippet of a video, with audio. All caught on the nanny cam that Joel had installed in a Teddy Bear and placed on the mantel. There she was, clear as day, cutting your stomach open.

The officer stopped the video, told her that she’d better pray the charges doesn’t escalate to murder in the first degree, and walked out.

The trial only took two days. Joel sat on the prosecution side, your parents, his parents, Tommy and your friends surrounding him. Even her own parents were sitting with him. They had paid for the best lawyer they could find to help the DA prosecute their own daughter. They didn’t even bother getting her one. She had to make do with the stupid lawyer that was provided by the county.

The DA offered a plea deal. Ten years in prison if she pleaded guilty. She declined. Her dumbass lawyer tried to get her to take the deal. No! Why would she? When had fighting for what’s rightfully yours a crime? And then, just her luck, the dumbass botched every single argument and defence she had.

You were a conniving bitch who stole the love of her life right from under her. You manipulated him into hating her. You turned everyone against her. She was emotionally driven to get back at you. She was a victim of your bullying. She snapped.

Everyone who was called to the stand disputed this – even Joel, even her own parents. Everyone testified that you were the sweetest person they knew. That Joel was in love with you since high school. Even his ex-girlfriend who he was dating at the time sent a statement to that fact. She only had high praise for you. They all recalled how she had shamelessly flirted with Joel since forever, only to be rebuffed by him. Even the fact that she had drugged him and assaulted him came to light. You had taken him to the hospital right after, and he tested positive for Rohypnol. The only reason they didn’t press charges was because they didn’t have proof that she was the one who laced his protein shake. And that was why Joel had installed the Nanny Cam when you started being friendly with her again.

She’s mentally unstable – she did suffer from delusions. She was delusional. She didn’t know what she was doing. She was even treated for it. It wasn’t her fault. Seeing you being pregnant with the child of the man she loved triggered her.

Except, the Nanny Cam footage caught her admitting to knowing what she was doing all along. That she was never delusional. That she knowingly did what she did to steal him from you, and to get out of having to work for a living.

And then there was all the forensic evidence – Nell realized there and then that just because one watched a lot of CSI, didn’t mean one could get away with attempted murder.

Of course, the most damning of all, was your testimony. You stared her straight in the eyes as you told the court what had happened. No love left in your eyes for her.

Guilty.

She was sentenced to 21 years in a prison at the other end of the country. Enough time for you, Joel and Sarah to disappear that she couldn’t find you when she did taste freedom again.

As they took her away, Nell got weak in the knees, begging you to forgive her. You turned around and walked out hand in hand with Joel and the rest of your family, never wanting to see her again.

***

You sat between Joel’s legs, his arms wrapped tight around you, his chin on your shoulder as the two of you watched Sarah hold Ellie’s hand while they searched for shells along the beach behind your new home. You had decided to move as far away as you can from your hometown. All three sets of parents came along with you, buying houses a couple streets over to be close to the kids, having retired and sold their businesses. Tommy met your new colleague Maria, and very quickly moved in with her. He proposed after only a few months. Joel and Tommy started their own woodworking company, not using the Miller name in case Nell got out and looked for you. You got a job at a local pharmaceutical company, doing what you did back in your hometown for better money. You couldn’t risk working at a hospital again for obvious reasons. No one wanted to stay in that town after what happened. A fresh start. For everyone.

It took a lot of therapy for you and Joel to get here. A lot of nightmares. But you got through it all. You couldn’t bring yourself to get pregnant again after what happened, so you and Joel adopted Ellie a few months ago. Sarah was flourishing and was so in love with her little sister. Joel had been your rock through all of this, despite what Nell did to him. He told you that he thanked God every day that he didn’t remember what happened, although it took a while for him to get back to his old self after. These days, he was still as protective as ever, working hard to provide for you and family, coming home to you and his girls every day with a huge smile on his face. He had become a bit grumpy around your new friends, wary of everyone now, but you loved him for it. He held you tight at night and had a hand on you at all times whenever you two would go out, even if he had one of the kids in his hands. Your nightmares were of being attacked, while his was of losing you. Those few days you were unconscious were the worst days of his life, and he was sure that he wouldn’t survive if he ever lost you.

Nell’s parents cut her off for good. They willed all their money to charity and your children, their grandchildren, as far as they were concerned. You had always been more of a daughter to them than Nell ever was, you cared for them when they needed you, while she was off galivanting in college.

She wrote to you every day for a whole year before you instructed the post office to return any letters from her address. You never read any of her letters. To your knowledge, no one had ever gone to visit her, using distance as an excuse, not that anyone would, even if she was nearby.

As far as you and Joel were concerned, you lives began after the incident. Anything before that was not worth mulling over. This, right here, the four you, and the family you have around you, were all that mattered. If the two of you could get through what Nell put you through, you could go through anything. Together.

#joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you

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lesbianrobin · 5 months ago

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non-exhaustive list of films that would cause eddie diaz to have a mental breakdown and/or cry so hard he throws up:

moonlight (2016). self explanatory.

the only son (1936). eddie might actually kill himself if he watched this. he would just be silent for like hours after watching and that night he would just stand in christopher's doorway watching him sleep for like minimum forty-five minutes. he would exist in a state of profound pessimism and melancholy until he saw buck again at which point he would forget about all of that and be normal. sometimes in his life he will randomly remember the only son (1936) and be like chris. you know that i'll be proud of you no matter what you do with your life right. all i want is for you to be happy. and chris will be like yeah.... why are you talking like we're in a movie and you have a terminal illness. and eddie's like i'm not talking like that i'm being normal. i'm a father. and chris is like ok weirdo. and eddie feels better.

the babadook (2014). self explanatory.

4th man out (2015). he would be like this movie is so dumb it's So dumb and then 1. cry when adam comes out to his mom and 2. get deeply invested in the relationship between adam and nick and when they kiss toward the end he'd be like YESSSSS but then when they laugh it off and say they're just friends he'd be like oh..... and feel really upset about it for reasons he cannot explain. he would rant to buck/chim/hen/bobby for like fifteen minutes about how the whole movie was CLEARLY leading up to a romantic conclusion between them and the writers were just being cowards for going with the best bros ending and buck would be like EXACTLY and everyone else would be like 👀😳 and hen would be like well i think they were trying to make the point that gay men can still have close intimate friendships with other men without it being sexual and eddie would be like okay well then those guys shouldn't have had so much chemistry!! and chim would be like yknow some might say that you and buck have good chemistry. and buck would be like we do <3 and eddie would be like hell yeah we do and they'd fuckin fist bump or something and the entire firehouse is like oh my GODDDDDD.

but i'm a cheerleader (1999). self explanatory.

brokeback mountain (2005). self explanatory.

captain america: the winter soldier (2014). eddie reacts So strongly to this movie and nobody understands it (including eddie) except for buck who immediately and instinctively understands that eddie is projecting onto both steve rogers and bucky barnes but only the sad lonely soldier losing himself and hurting the people he loves against his will parts + completely bypassing the hero parts. also steve's like "even when i had nothing i had bucky" and eddie is like hhhhhhhhh...

the pit, the pendulum and hope/kyvadlo, jáma a naděje (1983). okay look. i'm aware that nobody knows what this is. it is a short film inspired by edgar allan poe's "the pit and the pendulum" and auguste villiers de l'isle-adam's "a torture by hope." you should all go watch it but if you don't let me just tell you that eddie would have another panic attack and/or throw up.

the lord of the rings: return of the king (2003). self explanatory.

#em talks #eddie diaz #911

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rainytomorrows · 13 days ago

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Deadpool / Wolverine x reader | Domestic headcanons (2!!)

WOW I just got off work a bit ago (nearly midnight- employment is a curse) and I see the first was well regarded and a part two was heavily requested. I will indulge! I will also try to make this part longer as to not disappoint. One can only hope. Enjoy! I LOVE yearning and I hold romance near and dear to my heart. If I was not made to hold, then what are my hands for? CW/TW: mental illness mentions. In the name of comfort. Words: 1,320

♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡

Wade > DUMB contact names. Unapologetically abhorrent. I'm so 100% sure Logan's contact was 'wolvie-bear' with like 17 emojis at one point > Don't help him tie any ties if you need to be somewhere. Let Logan do it. He's such a perv you can't do anything without him all over you > Not romanticizing perverts I just truly think he loves you so much and he goes actually crazy over ANYTHING > As in legitimate wattpad smut fic writer level crazy. Once you came home from work covered in actual mud because of some jackass driver who'd sped past you (like in the cartoons where there's also a puddle and it splashes you). Wade had you on the nearest table so quickly he broke it. Logan would have lectured him if he could get a word in. > I think people forget Wade is both gay and mentally ill. Like everyone knows sure but I'm not sure it's something everyone really processes at all. I really like the idea that he's great as a partner if you have some intense mental issues > Maybe not great- he's not well tuned into emotions all the time. But, he knows pretty well how it all feels. Even if it was played as some funny bit- he did kind of try to commit like multiple times. I think if you have a habit of embarrassing breakdowns that make you insecure about the idea of having a partner see it, he'd be the perfect guy. This is the mental illness master. > Like, he cannot be serious ever. But, you're on the floor from the worst depressive/dissociative episode ever? He knows, no it's not embarrassing. Yes you can lay in his lap. He knows where to draw the line- on occasion. It won't get mentioned again later. > (Assuming you are like me- hehehehe giggles I want some personal attention) You had a REALLY bad episode once. Like- babbling on the floor level. You really tried to hide it buttttt they're two superpowered dudes that won't ever work. Wade stayed by your side for two days straight (god bless, it was your days off you didn't miss anything). Logan helped out with food and such. You claimed to be ready to go to work the next day, but Wade was NOT having it. He called your work while you were in the bathroom and faked extreme illness. "Y/N can't come to the phone, they've lost their voice. Yes I know. Yes it's terrible." > "I need the money!" He's speaking with Weasel already. Nothing an extra gig can't fix,,, > Will commit to ANY bit with AND for you. Don't even mention something to him that you aren't 100% willing to do. > You once told him you thought it'd be funny if one of you said "your mommy pick that out for you?" in that annoying nerd voice to someone in uniform. Obviously- you meant like a subway or a McDonalds uniform. He said it to an army officer. > Wade makes me think of Radiohead a lot. Cannot lie. He's kissed you and Logan to "all I need" by them once. It was playing on your Spotify he couldn't help himself. Who can ever truly blame him for breaking the fourth wall with such poetic coincidence? Logan didn't want any part but Wade didn't want him to be excluded, so a portion of the song was to kiss you and a good half was spent chasing Logan down to kiss him too > I am so connected to music I apologize. I think the three of you would be like the song 'world/insured' by Alex G. Can't decide yet if the actual song meaning applies here too but the vibe......... suspiciously throuple action in a suspiciously this in specific way > Wears whatever the hell you want him to. Will buy it himself if you mention it. I'm so dead serious > You made a joke about a sexy nurse outfit. He did not take it as a joke. Guess what he was wearing when you had to stay home sick. (Picture it) > He's still insecure sometimes please tell him he's handsome

Logan > I'm torn between Logan's contacts being short and sweet or legit just your names. Or the happy medium- normally it's just something like 'hun' or 'love', but when he's mad at one of you it's your name. Wade broke Logan's mug once and his contact name was just 'Wilson.' for a month. One would see this as plain petty but it truly works on Wade > Ohhhhh he writes poetry and will shoot himself whether or not it works if one of you finds it > Both because he has edgy pieces that would paint him in such a similar light to emos on Tumblr in 2015, and also because he's written some nice ass poetry about how much he loves you guys. Don't let him know if you find it he'll lock himself in a room without food or water for a week > Way worse with emotions. Almost inclined to say don't ask him. But he cares, he's a girl dad y'know. He'll probably be bad at it, holding you awkwardly (like a mannequin who's just gotten a fleshy body and isn't entirely sure how to move it's arms) > He isn't talking. He has no idea what to say. If Wade isn't there to help out, he wishes he was. > Speaking of, I can't lie this head canon hurts me a little as someone who never wants kids ever. He definitely wants a daughter. He for SURE wants a little girl whether or not he knows that. > I personally think he's trans. So in the case he is and you are too, he helps a lot with that. Wade is a cis man, he can research but he has no real clue. Logan can't get top surgery because of his healing factor, but because of his healing factor he can bind however long he wants to > Likes to stare and observe a lot. He knows your face in a dark room, and he knows the sound of your breath in a crowded room. He KNOWS you. > Almost creepy sometimes. You woke up once and he was dead staring into your soul. It was two in the morning. You maybe by accident punched him in the nose in fear. > Even if he really doesn't, he trusts you two. That's not something he finds in a lot of people. Every time he 'begrudgingly' agrees to try something you want him to check out- remember that he agreed one way or another. If he doesn't want to do something, he won't. > Won't go to pride. Not sure why. I just can't see it. Why go to pride if we got RuPaul at home? "I know I'm gay. And Wade makes sure everyone else does too." > Always returns shopping carts > I think he doesn't half ass shit, sometimes he can choose when he thinks something doesn't require or call for full effort, but he doesn't half ass > Ohhhh angst he is like a caged animal and he is secretly so scared > Affection does not come easy to him. Loving someone is scary. Who was around to tell him how to? > Sometimes you wanna kiss him but he's like a wounded animal. Someone help him I beg. He has his big bad wolf act but you both see it. He has no idea how to react to love and affection. It takes time, you'll get there. > He needs to be sick, honestly. He doesn't but that's how he acts. He's not a 'fix-it-project', that's a cruel way to see someone. But GOD he needs help. Show him how to have a healthy relationship with others and himself. > Chooses the two of you over everything. He won't make that mistake twice. EVEN IF HE WON'T SHOW ITTTT > Wears one of those eye masks to bed btw hehehe ♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡

Sorry if this was short! I have to be up early again for work tomorrow and I need to sleep ASAP. Loved making this again! I could honestly maybe even make a third. It's possible chat. Love you guys! Your support keeps me going for sure. Still crawling out of that hole- fanfic may be the solution. MUCHHH love! Have a good day/night, and a great life!

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angelzofdecay · 2 years ago

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If you die

FT- Blade, Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, Welt CW- death, murder, mourning, angst, hurt no comfort A/N- I'm sorry the voices told me to

Being the man that he is Blade wouldn’t react to your tragic passing at first. He would remain stoic concealing all of his feelings of despair and rage. For the longest time he didn’t believe that he could love, let alone be loved by another. The loss of you meant the loss of hope.

If you were murdered by the hands of another, he would eradicate them from the solar system. Anyone who worked with them may as well die too... He’ll need a place to vent out his frustrations. After the massacre and probable bounty put on his head afterwards, he would break down. If you died by illness or age, something he couldn’t take revenge on would be far worse. Blade would have nothing to take his inner feelings out on besides himself and maybe a few rouge robots. Eventually, his facade would be, and he would mourn you. Somewhere quiet, dark and alone and he would succumb to his inner turmoil. He would shed a tear or few but mostly likely scream his anguish and curse what had caused your unfortunate passing. He would never waste his time with another. Once you were gone, so was the last of his heart and no one could fill the void you left.

Jing Yuan has a bit more composure than Blade. Of course, he would mourn but wouldn’t make an outright spectacle of his. Your funeral would be as grand as your life, and he would spend every penny to be sure your memory was engraved into the world forever. If your precious life was stolen by a living thing, he would use all his power to have it wiped out. Now, if you were taken by an illness, he would make use of his funds by trying to find a cure. A way to prevent it from ever taking another dear life from someone else. Without you the days became dull and fruitless. It felt as though time itself had stopped when he heard the news. Jing nearly fell to the floor when he heard but simply excused himself to run to his private chambers. He wailed once he was alone like a lost child. He’ll feel exactly like a lost child who had lost the person most dear to them. It would take a long time for him to ever recover and find someone new.

The mourning process for Dan Heng is a combination of both prior characters. Unlike either of them when he heard of your passing he fell to his knees. His breath hitched in his throat, and he swore his heart constricted and tried to kill him as well. Instead of slaughtering everyone related to the murderer or using his popularity and coin to have them destroyed he enlists the help of the Astral Express Crew. They all adored you for how much joy you brought their dear friend so they would stop at nothing to bring the criminal to justice by any means necessary. An illness taking you suddenly would be soul crushing for Dan. There wasn’t anything he could do besides be by your side until you took your last breath. The healing process for him would come slow… He visited your grave on your birthday and the anniversary of your death and left offerings to celebrate your life and afterlife. He cleaned your tombstone so it would shine just like you did.

Welt is the most mentally stable of the group. How would he react if you died? Probably by becoming an even more stoic recluse. At night he would reach out for you forgetting that you were gone. He swore to protect you and failed, and he’ll never let himself forget that. Why should he live on peacefully when you can’t live at all? He goes by the book when it comes to seeking justice for you, but it doesn’t change the fact, he wished he could make them suffer like you did. He prayed he could make the sickness disappear from the universe all together. When he’s alone he still twiddles with the dumb stuffed bear he gave you that still smells exactly like you. Himeko has done her best to distract him, but your ghost continues to haunt him… Although he finds a sort of comfort in that.

#honkai star rail #dan heng #blade #welt yang #jing yuan #honkai star rail x reader #welt x reader #welt x you #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #blade x reader #blade x you #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader

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murfpersonalblog · 1 month ago

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTFqc5yJ3/

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTFqcGyPq/

I hope this isn’t weird but, I stumbled upon these TikTok’s and they reminded me of some your iwtv metas.

@louis-of-nola omg it's not weird at all; thank you for liking my IWTV metas, and for sending me links to these REALLY good analyses of Black & LGBTQ+ people in white media! ❤️ TBH I'm never on apps like TikTok, Twitter or Instagram, so NGL I was bracing myself for rage bait when I clicked the links, only to be pleasantly surprised by these two videos by Mouseabolition on film theory--I sincerely appreciate it!

The first link especially got to me:

Cuz in Mouseabolition's critique of the White Gaze--particularly the White (Female) Gaze--she mentioned one of my favorite horror movies, Get Out.

"A lot of black people I know are able to very deeply care about and empathize with pieces of media that are attempting to speak to our experiences, even when it's done poorly. And we're not necessarily trying to say: 'That's a good thing and that was done well.' But it's the same reason why Chris from Get Out--THE template for black horror--why Chris from Get Out felt like such a new, refreshing horror protagonist. A huge part of what makes Get Out work, and what differentiates Chris from the average horror movie protagonist--outside of just like the surface level analysis of he's a black man--is that Jordan Peele (who is also a black man) was able to write a black character with the realistic higher level of consciousness and alertness towards danger, that all black people have to move with. And that higher level of consciousness is a huge part of why most black people I know can't take white people's horror movies seriously anyway. It's because white people walk around throwing themselves into situations that are destined to create horrific scenarios; and when you are somebody who has to walk around going: 'I can't do that, I'm gonna die!' it's really hard to feel shocked and horrified and surprised when somebody does something that you know damn well is gonna end up with them dead! Black people--particularly like black women and queer folks--don't really have the privilege of walking around with the illusion that we are more or better represented than we are. And so you learn to look at things more critically, and that gets stereotyped as nagging or a bad thing! But it's not, because thinking about things critically, genuinely all the way through, is frequently what leads the black people I know to finding those kernels of good in stories, where most people are just like: 'No, I just think that's silly, it's just dumb.'" (4:10 - 6:02)

I've made four IWTV metas comparing the horrific experiences of Chris in Get Out and Louis in IWTV, cuz I noticed that the core themes of Black men in white spaces wrt vulnerability, exploitation, gaslighting & manipulation resonated between both horror shows in a way that directly reflects IRL experiences.

This is particularly the case when Black people are involved in toxic interracial relationships that end in horrific tragedy for the Black partner. The horror comes into even sharper focus when it's the Black victim who ends up blamed/lied on by their white abuser/murderer that tried to play the innocent victim, weaponizing White Tears to justify/get away with literal crimes--which I've also provided links to before, cuz this BS really happens to us (x).

It's especially effed up when you're dealing with victims of abuse who suffer from mental illness, and are blamed/attacked by the authorities/masses. IRL we see Bipoc mentally ill folk who call the white cops for help and are the ones who get killed (x x); yet the IWTV fandom is overrun with racists who REFUSE to put 2 + 2 together to save their biased AF souls. I felt so vindicated in 2x5 - 2x8 when AMC explicitly showed that Louis & Claudia were telling the truth about the Drop Scene in 1x5, and that Armand had lied the whole time, effing with Louis AND Daniel's memories; after so many racist AF white Lestans & Armstans said the Lou & Claudia were spiteful liars who just wanted poor uwu blorbo Lestat & Armand to look bad cuz they're not Black, like WHAT!? We saw a literal Black LYNCHING happen on screen, where Black!Louis was buried alive & Black!Claudia was burned alive by a bottle-blonde white man in front of a predominately white audience in a "play"/snuff film co-written & directed by 3 non-Black people (Armand, Sam & Lestat); meanwhile the fans INSIST that this show's NOT about race. 🤡 BUFFOONERY!

By race-swapping Louis & Claudia & heightening the abuse they suffered in the books to make their treatment WORSE, AMC was literally talking to the predominately white gaze of the audience that SALIVATES over fetishizing Black people on one hand but still perpetrates injustices against Black people on the other hand; and the racist IWTV fandom proves them right every effing day!

And I also LOVE what MouseAbolition's Tik Tok said about the careful & highly conscious ways that Black people (esp. Black queer people) have to move in society, BECAUSE they're more vulnerable to persecution & penalties & punishment than white people.

Black gay men are marginalized by white AND black people alike; there are Black fans who are also against seeing Louis as a female-coded character. Because this is a white world, the white gaze affects ALL of us, and the panopticon of censure & censorship forces us to police each other and mistreat our own sometimes even worse than white people will--look at emotionally abusive/negligent mothers like Florence who has a particular image to uphold amongst the conservative Catholic Black elite during Jim Crow (vs. white Gabrielle who CAN support her white son's eccentricities); and homophobic women like Grace (who herself is married to a man who's NOT "the man of the house," Levi coddled by Florence & financially supported by Grace's inheritance & Louis' money). But at the end of the day the problem still lies with white (wo)men who weaponize Othering by means of race/gender/sexuality/etc in order to isolate marginalized peoples from systems of support, so that they might be more easily exploited & abused--which I've constantly argued wrt to Loustat.

It grates on my effing nerves when white fans (esp. Lestans) hypocritically talk about gender, culturally appropriating Black queer terminology like "Mother"--which originated in Black gay drag, pageantry & ballroom culture, a la Drag Mothers as exemplified in Paris is Burning, and shows like Ru Paul's Drag Race & Pose--in order to prop up Lestat's femininity and dismiss Louis', all because Louis (as a Black man they've hypermasculinized) doesn't conform to their cis white paradigmatic bias of what femininity & motherhood looks like--which is informed by the white patriarchy to control the social hierarchies of both women AND men, straight & gay alike!

I've adamantly critiqued white female fans' surface-level discrimination against Louis as a female-coded character just because Louis doesn't crossdress--as if Lestat's Mardi Gras dress is the only indexical determiner of gender; esp. for closeted & conservative Black gay men who historically CANNOT safely & freely move in public spaces the way out white liberal LGBTQ+ men can.

Cis white women lusting after Lestat & screaming Yaaas Mother~!, or circling the wagons around Armand cuz they want AMC to move on to Devil's Minion (which not even AR GAF about, lol), just loooove to jump on Louis for being a pimp, for not being feminine enough, for fighting back in 1x5. Black men are hypsersexualized to the point that straight AND gay Black men are perceived as universal dangers to white/non-Black purity, and were lynched by the mob in DROVES whenever if it was even suggested that they stepped out of line; "Louis can sometimes act out."

So yeah, people act like I'm crazy cuz I call this ish out, when the facts are staring them right in the effing face. But I've already been explicitly told by white Lestans that they're deliberately ignoring the red flags cuz it's not fun to turn their brains on & look at their precious blorbos critically and that they'll casually dismiss negative portrayals of Lestat on the show as "poor writing"--

--then the same stans spin their effing tops when they actually pick up a effing book and read for themselves that we're telling the truth when we say AR's darling Lestat's a LEGIT abusive rapist p.o.s.--

--and that Hannah Moscovich was legit for pointing out that it's not character assassination when Lestat's abusive oppressive toxic behavior is effing CANONICAL.

#interview with the vampire #get out #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #loustat #loumand #iwtv tvc metas #white privilege #racial inequality #racism #gender inequality #democracy of hypocrisy #read a dang history book #like wtf #louis de pointe du black

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nataliesfirefly · 4 months ago

Text

chapter 6 - the wolf in sheep’s clothing

a/n: hey loves! i got a bit carried away with this chapter so it’s a pretty long one, but i hope you love it! warning, lots of angst but no cliffhangers this time 🫶 enjoyyy!

chapter warnings: slight language

wc: 5.4k

series masterlist

You don’t think you’ve ever hated your life more than you do right now. You’re drowning in make-up work after you missed two days of school, and you’re also drowning in your feelings for Farleigh. You’re experiencing a plethora of emotions; You love him, you hate him, you want to kiss him, you want to choke him. And not in a good way.

Is he really that much of an idiot that he would fall for Clara? Not only is she dumb, she just tries way too hard. She tries too hard with her appearance, with school work, with making friends. At the end of the day, she doesn’t even have many friends. Now you can see why.

You can’t believe you agreed to help her with school. You always seem to fall for people’s sob stories, unfortunately. You hope she fails all her classes and doesn’t get to study abroad in the states. She doesn’t deserve that opportunity.

But really, are you being too harsh? Maybe she didn’t know that you liked Farleigh. Of course she didn’t know. But she could’ve at least taken the hint, knowing you two were seeming to grow closer lately. Or were you? Was it all in your head?

You run a hand through your hair and sigh with exasperation, leaning down and resting your head upon your desk. You begin to plot your revenge for Clara in your head. Maybe you’d push her down the stairs, or shove her into a street full of moving cars. Actually, that might be a little too harsh, you think.

You look back up and decide to finally start on your calculus assignment. Only Mr. Bailey would give you a six page packet of hellish calculus problems to complete. You’re tempted to just search up an answer key, but you push the thought aside and pick up your pencil.

That Monday, you trudge through the hall, heading to English class. You probably look like hell, based off the glances you earn from some of your fellow students in the corridor. When you looked in the mirror this morning, you saw your almost ghostly reflection, with prominent bags under your eyes and a loss of color in your face. You tried your best to put yourself together, but with how you were feeling, both physically and mentally, your best wasn’t that great. You’re still not completely recovered from your illness, however this weekend gave you the opportunity to rest some more.

You walk into Mrs. Chasteen’s classroom, slightly late, rushing to your regular place, not realizing that Farleigh isn’t sitting there until you’re in your seat. You glance around to see him sitting next to some random guy whose name you forgot. Henry, maybe?

Your eyes meet for a split second before he quickly looks away, avoiding your gaze. You turn back to face the front, shifting in your chair. You clench your fists underneath the table in frustration. Now you’re going to look like an idiot, sitting alone, when everyone knows you and Farleigh always sit together.

“Hey, everything okay?” You glance upwards to see Magdalena carrying her things over to sit with you. “Oh. Erm, yeah.” You nod unconvincingly as she sits down next to you. She raises her eyebrows, clearly not convinced, as you expected.

“Why’s Farleigh sitting with Mason?” Oh. Not Henry.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. Lena nudges you. “I can tell when you’re lying. Come on.” She scoots her chair closer to you and puts her elbows on the table.

“Well, um…” You swallow nervously. You don’t really want to tell Lena what happened, but you feel like she deserves to know. She’s always been there for you. “On Friday we…” You trail off, hoping that she takes the hint.

Her eyes widen and you pray she keeps her voice down. “You what?!” She whisper-screams. “We almost kissed. Almost.” You specify the ‘almost’ part. Because it’s true, you didn’t ever actually kiss him (although you wished you did).

“Wait, how did that even bloody happen?!” She claps a hand over her mouth loudly which earns you two a few side eyes.

“He offered to bring me stuff while I was sick. I don’t know why. But he was sort of… taking care of me? I guess?” You shrug helplessly. You would very much like to jump out of a window right now.

“Oh my… He was taking care of you while you were sick?!” Lena’s jaw drops. You didn’t think it was that big of a deal. “In a friendly way.” You add.

“Friendly way? Pfft. You’ve got to be joking right now.” She facepalms. “What about that is friendly or casual?!” Her voice gets a little too loud and you cringe a bit.

“It’s friendly. He even said it himself, it’s what friends do!” You throw your hands up. “No, no no. You’ve got it all wrong, my friend.” She pats your shoulder.

She leans in closer. “Boys only do that when they like someone. When they care about someone a lot. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” She mutters.

“I predicted this, didn’t I?” Lena smiles with satisfaction, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “I always know these things.” She taps her index finger to her head. “Wait, so why was it an almost kiss?” She lowers her voice once again.

“Right when we were about to kiss, he got a call.” Lena sits up abruptly at your words. “From who?” She asks, her green eyes wide with curiosity. “Clara.” You whisper so quietly, it’s almost inaudible.

“Oh… that bitch.” Her eyes narrow, while yours widen at her language. “I never liked her. I’m going to beat her-”

“Me neither, but there’s nothing we can do. He’s already made his choice.” You slump in your seat. “So he took the call?” Lena asks. You nod. She practically seethes. “What a loser.”

You turn once again to glare at Farleigh. Lena’s right. Clara’s not the only one in the wrong here. What kind of idiot would take that phone call instead of just declining it?

After biology class, you’re walking down the hall when you suddenly see Clara standing by the window, right next to the stairs. How convenient, you think. You cringe before you have to walk past her, hoping she doesn’t say anything to you. However, it is very tempting to reach out and push her down the stairs. You’ve barely made it to the second step when you hear her annoying voice calling your name.

“Long time no see,” She grins with her perfect teeth and you have to refrain from rolling your eyes. “Hi, Clara.” You mutter reluctantly.

“I heard you were sick. I hope you’re doing better now,” She frowns.

“Oh. I am. Thanks.” You reply nonchalantly, looking up at her from the stairs.

“Say, have you gotten the essay for history done yet?” She asks, leaning gingerly up against the wall and twirling her stupid hair. Why is she asking you about an essay? That essay is worth a lot of points though, so it’s pretty important. And it’s due in a week.

“Oh. Yeah, I just have one more paragraph to get done.” You reply. You don’t even bother with a fake smile. Her presence is simply too exhausting.

“You’re so hard working. I wish I could be like you.” Clara sighs longingly, although you know she’s just trying to butter you up.

You clear your throat after a moment of silence. “Do you need something?” You ask with raised eyebrows. She looks extremely offended as she presses a hand to her chest.

“No, of course I don’t. Can’t a friend just ask about an essay?” She asks. You narrow your eyes at her innocent expression.

“It’s just… I think Mr. Larson is a bit too harsh sometimes. He’s so picky with his grading, and I never do well enough for him.” She sighs once again before turning to look out the window in an attempt to look mysterious.

You almost scoff, but you stop yourself. Mr. Larson is one of the easiest graders you know. She must be really stupid.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Clara.” You start to turn to make your way down the stairs, but she continues talking.

“What do you think about him?” She asks suddenly. “I think he’s a great teacher. And really, his grading isn’t even that bad.” You shrug.

“Of course you think that.” She snaps before quickly covering her mouth, her brain registering what just came out of her mouth. “What was that?” You question. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Nothing. I don’t know why I thought you would understand.” She lets out a long sigh for the third time and crosses her arms.

“Clara, what’s the goal here? Are you trying to gain sympathy from me? Are you trying to make me feel bad for being smart?” You’ve had enough of her shit. You walk back up the stairs so that you don’t have to keep looking up at her.

“No.” Some sick part of you feels satisfaction at her widened eyes and fearful expression, although you know you would never resort to physical violence, no matter how tempting.

“Or do you just want help? If you do, just say that.” You offer a fake smile.

She shakes her head. “I don’t want your help. In fact, you’re no help whatsoever anyways. You’re just a bitch,” Her voice raises slightly.

You breathe out of your nose and clench your fists in an attempt to calm yourself.

“Clara, I’m sorry, but I really don’t have the time to help you. We all have our own lives and problems to worry about. I wish you the best of luck with your grades, but I can’t help you anymore.” You turn around to head down the stairs as your voice echoes throughout the stairwell.

“Just be thankful that you’re smart enough for all of this. Not all of us can be like you,” She calls out, and it almost sounds like there’s tears in her eyes. Part of you almost feels bad for her, but it’s not your fault that she’s not smart enough. That’s her parent’s fault for putting her in a school that is known for being competitive and rigorous.

You head out of the building and walk faster than usual, your anger spurring you on. She’s such a manipulator.

Three days later, you finally arrive back in your room after a long day. “Ugh.” You sigh as you close the door behind you, running a hand through your hair. You sit on the edge of your bed and pull your phone out from the pocket of your coat.

You look down at the screen as you scroll through you and Farleigh’s messages. It’s been a long six days without talking to him, and it’s starting to get to you. You hate that you’ve gotten so attached to a man. It’s stupid, really. You never thought this of all things would happen to you. You’ve always been independent, never relying on others for happiness.

But everything has changed within the past four months, and it’s like torture. You hate these feelings. Everything would have stayed normal if you had just kept Farleigh at arm’s length, and maybe your stupid crush would have gone away. You could just be friends, no matter how excruciating that unrequited love would be.

You set your phone face down on your bed and stand up. You have a French assignment to finish, so you head over to your desk to grab your laptop.

However, your laptop isn’t there. You always keep it there to charge, and when it’s not there, it’s in your backpack. But you dropped off your backpack earlier and took your laptop out to charge before you went to grab dinner.

You walk over to your backpack and unzip it, peering inside for your laptop. Still not there. You huff in frustration and glance around your room.

Maybe it’s on your bed. You shuffle over to your bed and search under your blankets and pillows, but it’s not there either.

You panic a bit, but you continue searching. You check under your bed, under your desk, in your closet, under your bedside table, in your drawers, but it’s nowhere to be seen.

“Ugh!” You groan loudly, flopping onto your bed and covering your face with your hands. “The one time I need to work…” You mutter defeatedly. You remember placing it on your desk and plugging in the charger not even two hours ago. You think you might be going insane.

You figure that it’s probably somewhere around campus and someone would find it and return it to you. Thanks to your dad, you have a small label with your phone number on it on your laptop. That way, if it ever gets lost and needs to be returned, someone can just call the number. You’re hoping to receive a call soon.

Due to your exhaustion, you decide to just get ready for bed. You’ll worry about it tomorrow.

The next day, you search around the campus for your laptop, and there’s still no sign of it. You ask some of your classmates if they’ve seen it, to which they all said no. You figure you must have just been going crazy last night and it was in your room the whole time.

So, that evening, you return to your room to look for it once again. And there it is, sitting on your desk. You rub your eyes quickly to make sure you’re not hallucinating. You blink and then widen your eyes, stepping forward to inspect further. It’s charging, like it always is, in its usual spot.

“What the fuck…” You whisper, completely astonished. There’s no way this is real, you think to yourself. Maybe life is a simulation after all.

You sit down at your desk and open your laptop curiously. You type in your password and it opens to the regular screen. Everything seems to be looking normal. You open your emails. Normal. The only new email is from a university offering tours.

“Hm.” You hum, opening your French assignment and getting to work. Everything is as you left it, so you’re confused why it just disappeared yesterday.

A few minutes later, your phone begins to ring. You pick it up from your bed and smile after seeing Lena’s name on the screen. You happily answer. “Hello?”

“Hey girl. Code red. I see Clara and Farleigh walking together outside of the library.” She whispers conspicuously. You quirk an eyebrow and sit down on the edge of your bed.

“Um… Okay?” You reply, the confusion evident in your voice.

“I just thought I’d let you know. I don’t know what they’re talking about, but he looks slightly annoyed.” She reports.

“I would be annoyed too if I had to talk to her,” You giggle and you can hear Lena snickering a bit on the other line.

“No kidding. I just really don’t get what he sees in her,” She replies.

“Me neither.” Suddenly, an unwarranted and frightening image pops into your head. “Wait, they’re not like… holding hands or something, are they?” You ask nervously while biting your nails.

“No. Thankfully. I’m trying to follow them without looking obvious. She’s talking really… passionately.” Lena explains.

It goes silent for a minute and you can only hear the sounds of the wind.

“Oh my God.” She says seriously.

“What?!”

“I swear I just heard her say your name,” Lena hisses abruptly. You roll your eyes.

“She probably did. I’m sure she loves talking about me.” You sigh, playing with the corner of a blanket.

“Okay. She walked off and now he’s just sitting on a bench. Oh, wait. I think he sees me.” You can’t help but giggle at the level of intensity in her voice. “He definitely saw me.” She squeaks, and you can hear the sound of hurried footsteps in the background.

“Well, thanks for the update.” You laugh. “Of course,” She responds, breathing heavily after her escape.

“See you later!” You smile as you hang up, tossing your phone back onto your bed.

You try to ignore the feelings of jealousy building back up again, but it’s almost impossible. You groan and run your hands down your face.

You walk through one of the long hallways after French class, admiring the stonework and stained glass you’ve walked past so many times. You breathe in the air, admiring the quiet atmosphere. You’re always grateful for these rare moments when no one else is in the corridor and you can just enjoy yourself.

But sometimes, the silence creeps you out. It’s almost eerie, in a way. And then you start to think about all the rumors about how some of the buildings on campus are haunted. Is this one of them?

You glance around, almost feeling panicked, until realizing that you’re being silly. Ghosts don’t exist. Or do they? You shake your head. “Pfft.”

And then, at that moment, you hear footsteps echoing off the high ceilings. You whip around to check behind you. No one’s there. The footsteps continue. You turn back to face ahead, walking a bit faster now. Your heart rate picks up as the footsteps grow faster as well.

Suddenly, you feel someone grab you by the arm and pull you forcefully into an empty classroom. You manage to get out a quick squeak, but you’re so frightened that you can’t even scream. Is today the day you die? Are you really going to be the next ghost story of the school?

You squeeze your eyes shut, until you breathe in a familiar scent. A fancy and probably expensive cologne. You open your eyes to see that Farleigh is the one gripping your arm and standing a little too close.

“Farleigh? What the hell are you doing?!” You shout, pummeling him in the chest with your fists. You’re just angry at this point.

“Okay, okay. Calm down!” He lets go of your arm and stumbles backwards. You can see a proud smirk on his face. His goal all along was to scare you. Figures.

“You little– Don’t you ever sneak up on me like that again!” You tell him angrily, pointing a finger at him.

“Were you really that scared?” He’s doubled over with laughter, barely managing to get a sentence out. He glances up at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?” He pauses his laughter.

“No, of course I don’t. Well, maybe a little bit.” He bursts into laughter again. “Shut up!” You walk forward and gather a handful of his hair, yanking on the curls harshly. “Ow!” He exclaims, reaching up and shielding the top of his head from you.

You almost forgot everything that’s happened with Farleigh for the past few weeks. You sigh and sit down on a desk, raising your eyebrows and tilting your head. “What do you want?” You ask.

Suddenly, his expression turns serious. “Alright, you need to listen to me. Okay?” He steps closer to you, and for once you’re finally at eye level with him since you’re up on the desk.

“Okay…” You narrow your eyes suspiciously. He looks panicked and it seems that whatever he needs to tell you is urgent.

“And promise not to freak out.” He adds on. “I can’t promise that.” You shake your head. He sighs with exasperation.

“Okay. Basically…” He trails off and then huffs, turning around and pinching the space between his eyes. “Just get on with it!” You exclaim, slowly losing your patience.

“Okay, okay! Jeez. A few nights ago, Clara stole your laptop while you were away from your room, emailed your entire history essay to herself, and then put it back in your room.” Farleigh explains quickly.

Your jaw drops. You can’t even process the information, let alone think of the right words to say in response.

“The essay is due today, and she’s going to turn in your whole essay and claim it as her own.” He continues.

“I know it’s due today, you idiot!” You shout, completely losing your shit. “She probably already turned it in! It’s fucking three o’clock!” You tell him, hopping off of the desk and pacing around the room.

“Did you know about this the whole time?” You whip around to face him. “You knew about her stupid little plan and you only just now told me?!” You exclaim angrily, feeling tears brimming in your eyes.

“I knew but I didn’t think she was actually going to do it. Please, don’t take it out on me. I know you’re mad. She’s a complete idiot. She’s a fraud.” He walks up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders. You stare into his eyes and search for his sincerity.

You shrug out of his grasp and walk away from him. “No. I am going to take it out on you. You’re a backstabber, Farleigh.” You turn back around to stare him down. “You knew that she was planning this. You could have stopped it before it happened. You could have told me.” You feel the tears threatening to fall at any second.

“I know, I know. We were just in awkward place, and–”

“And whose fault is that?” You snap. He flinches a bit at your harsh words.

“I’m sorry. I really am. But we can make this right, I swear.” He tries to reassure you.

“How did I not see the email?” You mutter under your breath, but apparently Farleigh hears you. “She deleted it after she sent it.” He explains.

“Maybe she’s not so dumb after all. Can you text her and see if she already submitted it? I forgot to turn mine in earlier today, damnit.” You groan.

“Yeah. I’ll ask real quick.” He pulls out his phone and sends her a text quickly. Only a few seconds later, his phone vibrates with a notification. “Shit. She already turned it in,” He looks back up at you. All the color drains from your face.

“Farleigh, that essay was half our grade for this term! I’m going to get expelled if they think I plagiarized it!” You turn away, not wanting to let him see you cry.

“Hold on, let’s be rational here. Every teacher here knows how dumb Clara is, okay? They won’t believe for a second that she wrote all that herself. You’re an amazing writer, and Clara could never get on your level.” You feel a hand on your lower back. You look up and over your shoulder at Farleigh, appreciating his warm and comforting gaze. You could get used to him calling Clara dumb.

You sniffle and wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “Just turn it in, and see what happens. Larson probably won’t even look at the time of the submissions.” He pats your back reassuringly.

“Okay.” You’re a bit too prideful to apologize for being so angry at him, so you decide to wait. You’ll say sorry when the time is right.

“Okay. Are you good?” He smooths out the hair on the top of your head and you try to ignore the tingly and warm sensation you get from his touch. You nod. “Mhm.”

“Call me if you need me.” Farleigh gives you one last pat on the head before walking out of the door. You watch him leave and suddenly feel guilty for how you treated him. Sure, he was wrong for not telling you Clara’s plan, but he didn’t really think she was going to go through with it. Who actually goes through with a plan like that? Apparently Clara.

Two days later, you get the email you’ve been dreading since Farleigh told you the news. In said email, Mr. Larson requested that you come to his office to discuss certain ‘accusations.’

You believe that Mr. Larson likes you as a student, he usually gives you great grades and good feedback on your work. You and him even joke around during class sometimes. So, you’re hoping that he understands the whole situation and believes you over that dumb blonde bitch.

You decide to call Farleigh and tell him about this. You bite your lip as you wait for him to answer. It’s nine AM on a Saturday, so there’s a good chance that he might still be asleep.

“Hello?” You smile at the sound of his deep and slightly raspy voice. It always brings you so much peace and comfort, though you’re not sure why. You remind yourself to stay serious, considering the topic at hand.

“Hey, Mr. Larson just emailed me. He’s asking for me to come to his office. I don’t know what to do.” You bite one of your fingernails as you await his response. You hear him take a deep breath before exhaling quickly.

“Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’ll go with you, and I can testify for you. I’ll tell him the whole truth about what Clara did.” He explains matter-of-factly. Your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t think he would actually help you solve the problem.

“And how do you know that he’ll believe you?” You ask.

“Because I have proof,” Farleigh replies. “I have texts I can show him. He can’t argue with that.” You hear a smirk in his voice.

“Alright, alright. Meet me outside the east wing in ten minutes.” You tell him. “Roger that.” He responds. You waste no time, hurriedly shuffling over to your closet to get dressed and ready.

You stand outside the old building, leaning against the wall and patiently waiting for Farleigh to show up. You see his familiar tall and lanky figure in the distance, and he seems to spot you too. He waves and begins to jog in order to get to you faster.

“Hey. Made it,” He winks playfully and you roll your eyes affectionately. “So you did. Let’s go.” You almost have the urge to reach out and grab his hand as you walk in, but you don’t.

Sooner or later, you arrive outside of Mr. Larson’s door. You knock on it timidly, glancing up at Farleigh. He nods encouragingly.

The door swings open, and you are met with a sort of chaotic looking Mr. Larson. His hair is messy, unlike how it’s usually styled with gel, and he looks tired. He’s holding a mug that says, ‘Best Grandpa.’ Last time you checked, he doesn’t even have kids. At this point, you’re a whole lot less intimidated by him.

“Hello.” He greets with a nod of his head, before turning to look up at Farleigh. “Ah. Mr. Start.” He nods again before opening the door further, stepping back to let you both inside. “Come in, come in.” He gestures with his free hand.

You both go to sit in the two chairs situated in front of his desk. He follows close behind after shutting the door. He sits down with a heavy sigh that clearly says, ‘I don’t get paid enough for this.’

“Well then. Let’s get this started, shall we?” He chuckles before clearing his throat and getting serious. “I was grading your essays yesterday, and I noticed that two of them were exactly the same. Down to the punctuation. And I thought, this can’t be normal. There’s something… fishy going on here.” You hear Farleigh make an odd sound next to you, and you look over to see him covering his mouth in an attempt not to laugh.

“I called up Clara Greene, who was in that class period when I was grading, and asked her about it. She was shocked and appalled by this, and made a whole scene in front of the class, claiming that you plagiarized her essay.” Mr. Larson looks up at you and raises his eyebrows. “Is that true?”

“No. It’s absolutely not true. I wrote that essay, and she plagiarized it. I mean, come on, Mr. Larson, do you really think Clara Greene could write that? Be honest.” You quickly defend yourself with a strong voice. His brown eyes twinkle with amusement.

“Well… To be fair… No. I don’t think she could write that. However, I did check the times on the submissions. Her’s was at 3:14 PM and your’s was at 5:54 PM. So, it does raise some suspicions.” He takes a sip of his hot tea. “As an employee of the school, I legally have to inspect these matters very closely. We do not take things like this lightly, and although I would much rather be outside walking my dog, I have to get to the bottom of this.”

“I understand that, but sir, I promise you that I wrote that essay. I would never, ever even think about plagiarizing. Especially for a class I really enjoy.” Mr. Larson smiles at the last sentence.

“I appreciate that. Just remember, we have a no tolerance policy for plagiarism, so if this is true, you could risk getting expelled. I’m sure you don’t want that.” He glances back and forth between you and Farleigh. “Between you and I, though, I don’t think you did it. I just need proof to know for sure.”

“I have proof, sir. Right here.” Farleigh holds up his phone, the text messages open. Mr. Larson’s eyes widen and he rubs his hands together. “Let’s see it, then.” Farleigh hands over his phone and guides him through the messages, explaining each thing she sent.

“Alright then. It’s settled. Can’t argue with cold hard proof.” He sighs and stands up from his desk. “Thank you, young man. What a very noble act to defend your… friend here.” He gestures to you with a strange look on his face. “And Clara will be facing punishments soon enough.” He confirms.

“Will she get expelled?” You can’t help but ask. It would make your entire year if she did.

“Perhaps. The consequences will certainly be worse because she lied even further about it. But don’t worry about her. Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.” He gestures to the door and you both nod, heading out.

“Thank you so much. Without those texts, I would’ve been toast.” You tell Farleigh as you both walk down the hall towards the exit. “Yeah. Anytime. It’s the least I could do to make it up to you,” He replies.

You stop in your tracks and he stops beside you. “About that. I’m sorry that I got so upset with you. It wasn’t your fault. I was just… really mad at her.” You explain sheepishly, looking down at the ground with your hands behind your back.

“It’s okay. I promise.” Farleigh smiles softly as you look up at him. A question pops into your head and now you just have to ask.

“Do you still like her?” You ask. He looks taken aback. “What?” He responds.

“I thought you liked her. Romantically.” You clarify, blushing at your stupid use of the word.

“Oh. Absolutely not. I never liked her. I think that,” He pauses and glances up at the ceiling as he finds the right words. “I liked the attention she gave me. No one’s ever shown a real interest in me before like she did. She wanted me. I felt wanted, so I felt like I had to reciprocate. But I didn’t even see her that way.” He explains in a softer voice.

Oh. It makes so much more sense now. You almost feel frustrated. You want to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, and tell him how much you want him. He is wanted. He is loved. By you. How can he not see that? He’s so smart with practical things, but when it comes to romance, he’s the biggest idiot. You wonder if you should tell him that, but then you decide it’s not the right time. If he would just open his eyes, he would see what’s right in front of him.

“I think there’s a lot of people who think you’re amazing.” You reply quietly. He shrugs. “Maybe. I’d like to think so.” You smile at each other before continuing down the hall.

#saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x you #farleigh saltburn

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