#until next time uhh.. people.

[ask-pomni-blog]

updates :]

HEY GUYS!! sorry for being gone for like.. almost 2 weeks!! i had to lock in- buuut im BACK! and with a few notable updates:

new layout! :)

i will be answering a couple asks tomorrow!

(HOPEFULLY) redesigns! ...sometime soon!

i have midterms next week but after that SPRING BREAK! so i might do something special ;] - again thanks to all my supporters, a special thanks to my beta readers!! MWAH luv ya ! and all you askers I LUV YA TOO!!

[lilyaceofdiamonds]

I really hate how much my brain hates to do new things sometimes

[uravichii]

pov: you're drop-dead gorgeous (and they don't know how to deal with it)

character/s: bakugo katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, kaminari denki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff, crack (?), them hyping u up like there's no tomorrow, uhh reader wears makeup 🤕

notes: this is for all u pretty mfs aka all of u whether u believe it or not YOU ARE PRETTY AMD HOT AND AMAZING 😡‼️ also disclaimer: the boys love u not just for your face. they think you're so cool for being beautiful inside n out and this is just them appreciating the out 🧎‍♀️

bakugo katsuki thinks you're so pretty that his only response to it is to be angry. he'd watch intently the way you'd smooth your clothes down and cutely fiddle with your hair in the mirror as if there's even anything to fix. he'll cup your pretty face in his hands and squeeze your cheeks together (cuteness aggression probably), "tell me why you're so fucking pretty all the time? what are you so pretty for, huh?!"

bakugo katsuki would always watch you do your makeup and hair and then slip into the prettiest clothes only you can pull off and he's just mesmerized by the whole thing.

"katsuki, please stop drooling and get dressed. we're gonna be late."

his only response is: "fuck off."

because he can never deny nor hide the fact that he constantly admires you every chance he gets. he storms his way to you and snatches a shimmery eyeshadow from your makeup bag. "tch, you don't even need any of this shit."

"you don't like it, katsuki?" you stare up at him doe-eyed, easily making his heart skip a beat.

"h-hah?! i didn't say that!" he shoves it to your hand, "now do this glittery shit next!"

and you just ditch whatever plans you'd made and spend the rest of the night trying on different makeup looks. he'll insist that you sit on his lap while you doll yourself up just because, and you gladly do so but then you both end up wearing a full face of glam makeup 🧍‍♀️ he doesn't know how he just let it happen but he's like, "whatever makes you fucking happy, y/n."

he then proceeds to tell you that, "every one of those ugly extras should grovel at your feet, worship the ground you walk on, and then beg for your forgiveness."

"forgive them for what?"

he stares blankly at you. "for breathing the same air as you."

bakugo katsuki's not active on social media at all but on his instagram, his first and only post is a photo dump of just youー the selfies you took on his phone, your date outfits, candid photos (by courtesy of bakugo katsuki) of you smiling at a stray cat, the power nap you took on his shoulder, and his favorite one by far: a photo of you wearing his black tank top that completely swallows you up, holding up two little peace signs on your cheeks.

and of course, he captions it, "u and ur ugly ass wish u were y/n."

shinsou hitoshi is convinced he's dating a model. he doesn't know how it happened, but he is a little proud of whatever the hell was in him that managed to rizz you up.

he thinks you look amazing in absolutely anything. so when you go clothes shopping together, he casually picks up all types of clothes from the racks until there's a whole pile of them in his arms.

when you shoot him a questioning look about it, he only says, "think you'll look amazing in these, babe."

he also picks up some accessories and just wears them on youー hats, sunglasses, hair pins, and you just let him because each time you let him accessorize you, he gives those little comments like, "amazing." "cute" "this one's tacky; i put it on you as a joke but you pull it off for some reason." "yes. slayed." he made you wear cat ears one time and he just melts right there, immediately taking a photo of you for his new lockscreen.

it bothers shinsou hitoshi a lot when people stare at you even when they can clearly see his hand on the small of your back. he'll slide closer to you and kiss the top of your head all the while he gives them a death stare he wishes he could do more.

he squeezes your waist a little to call your attention.

"hm? what's up, hitoshi?"

he looks at you blankly, taking in your features in awe as if for the first time again. then he stuffs your face into his chest, your legs staggering as you grab a hold of his forearms.

"hey, what are you doing?" you giggle in his chest. he's relieved you can't see his flushed cheeks. "hitoshiii"

"you're too good for this world, y/n. i need to start gatekeeping you."

what blows shinsou hitoshi's mind the most is how you're probably unaware of your effect on him, no matter how many times he's called you all synonyms of the word, 'beautiful'

he's sat on the couch, a tiny smile of adoration tugging on his lips when he sees you running up to him. your eyes brim with excitement as you call his name, truly the prettiest ones he's ever seen.

"something happened?ー" he pauses when you lean your face so close to his. he sinks back into the couch as the tips of ears start to turn red.

it takes a moment until he realizes that you're showing off the purple eyeshadow you had done on yourself, batting your eyelashes at him as you wait for his response bc right now he's just staring at you like 😦💘‼️‼️‼️

"it's the one you picked out from the mall yesterday. is it pretty?"

"y/n." his hands slowly find their way to your waist, "i don't believe you're real sometimes. you are possibly the most beautiful person i've ever seen."

"really?"

"god," he pulls you by the waist until you're sat on his lap, your legs straddling him. "you have no idea."

remember how bakugo said all those extras should be groveling at your feet and worshipping you? yeah, it's kaminari denki. he worships you.

he thinks you're beautiful and he's LOUD about it.

he's constantly bragging about you to his friends and showing off your photos (if you're comfy w/ that), "oh this? oh yeah, this is is y/n, the coolest, funniest, drop dead gorgeous, most ethereal person on earth and they're dating ME."

and bakugo would just grab his phone and knock it against his head with a thud 🤕, "WE FUCKING GET IT. NOW, SHUT UP, DUMBASS."

he'll rub his head while cackling, "whatever, i'm dating Y/N. who cares about anything if you're dating y/n?"

kaminari denki doesn't love you just for your beauty though. you're not just some eye candy to him. if someone ever called you one though, you bet he's zapping their ass and with the whole bakusquad by his side because somehow they feel obligated to protect you now too. 🧍‍♀️ (denki's effect)

and just as much as he compliments your beauty everyday, he never forgets to let you know how beautiful your heart is too. in fact, he calls you 'angel' because how could someone be this beautiful and be so kind and caring to him at the same time?

"sometimes.." he looks up pensively from his lap where you lay your head, "i feel like i've been blessed by the heavens when i got to date you.

"denkiー"

"don't even think i'm exaggerating, y/n!" he pokes your cheek when you turn your head to look at him, "you're amazing. i don't know what i did for you to give me a chance."

there are times though when a part of kaminari denki feels a little insecure because he thinks he looks quite stupid next to you, and it doesn't help either that the bakusquad never lets him hear the end of it 😔

"denki, you don't look stupid because you're next to me. you do that on your own."

"aww, thank yー hol' up." 🤨

he's pouting but you immediately wipe that off by apologizing and peppering his face with kisses, ending it with a loud smooch on his lips with a "mmmwah!"

kaminari denki now can't remember what you're even apologizing for in the first place.

you and todoroki shouto are so beautiful, the visuals are blinding 😩 you'd walk to your classroom together, him opening the door for you and you smiling at him, lovingly squeezing his arm as a silent 'thank you,' and people just stare with their mouths agape, not knowing who exactly to be jealous of.

shouto definitely stares the most though until it concerns midoriya, "t-todoroki-kun, you haven't moved in three minutes. are you okay?" because he might as well have drawn hearts on his eyes and stab an arrow to his heart with the way he looks at you.

todoroki shouto always kisses your eyes, nose, cheeks, hair, and your lips, of course, just to let you know how beautiful he thinks they are.

he thinks whatever you do or wear is so pretty, hence, the many, many photos of you on his phone. his lockscreen changes every 2 days because everyday he just gets a prettier shot of you, and he always shows them to you and to his friends and siblings ☹️ because everyone, including you, should appreciate what a beauty you are!

"this looks great! you'd make a great photographer, shouto" you lean in to kiss his cheek, immediately sending a flush across his face.

"well..." he looks to the ground, the feeling of your lips still lingering on his right cheek. "that's all you... you're beautiful. i don't know how it has anything to do with me, but thank you."

and then he leans closer, tilting his head to the side to silently ask for another kiss. you laugh softly at this, and when you cup his cheeks in your hands and start planting kisses all over his face the way he does to you, shouto confirms it in his mindー y/n is an angel.

todoroki shouto would get a little overboard with the photos though because he'll spam that button and keep every single one. when you ask why keep the blurry ones, he explains, "that's still a photo of you. why would i delete it?"

he also has a photo of his point of view from when he had his head on your lap. he said he wanted to capture "the happiest moment of his life." you convince yourself it's sweet but it's literally just a photo of your chin in a weird angle.

"shouto, that's just my chin."

he looks at you dead in the eye. "y/n, you have a lovely chin."

you call him a weirdo, which surprises him a little, but then you drape your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all over his face again because who else in the world would say that to you?

[ismastfs]

Something About Him

There's always been something about Ryan. At least, Liam used to think so.

He never knew if it was his bright and fun personality, his gorgeous face or his top-notch body. I mean, really. Almost 6'2, with arms the side of his own head, pecs that hung out of his chest like tits, rock-hard abs, thighs that could crush a skull with ease and an ass that could put any of the Kardashians to shame. There wasn't anything else to expect, really. Ryan was one of the main jocks on campus.

And to be honest, almost everyone had a crush on Ryan. Even those who weren't really attracted to men, and the guy truly knew it. He was a total show off, parading himself around the halls in the shortest shorts possible, and when he wasn't wearing tight tank tops or compression shirts, he went shirtless, leaving his incredible physique on display all the time.

Still, it was weird for Liam to have a crush on him. He'd never been attracted to jocks or really built guys. His type was people like him; skinny, nerdy and shy guys. He found jocks and gymbros kind of annoying. They were always loud, smelly, dumb as bricks and with egos the size of a planet.

But even with all of that, he could never shake the feeling he would get every time Ryan would walk by him. He was so drawn to him. Always wanting to be near him, look at him. And very recently, he actually wanted to try hanging out with him, which was a crazy thing to think about. A little nerdy nobody hanging out with one of the most popular jocks? Complete and utter madness. However, he overheard a conversation between Ryan and one of his 'bros'. Ryan needed help with a literature essay. And now Liam was walking directly to his direction to offer him exactly what he needed.

"H-hi" Blurted out Liam awkardly, cursing to himself for sounding so embarassing. "Uhh, do I know you, bro?" Ryan looked away from his phone to look at the scrawny kid talking to him. "No you d-don't know me, but I was sitting by you in literature when I heard you say you needed help with your essay. I can help you if you'd like it" He said, starting to get that feeling again, like being close to him was making him lose his mind. "Really, bro? That would be so nice of you, what was your name, bro?" Ryan's eyes lit up. "It's Liam, nice to meet you" He extended his hand to Ryan without thinking, regretting it immediately after.

Ryan grabbed his hand and in a swift motion, he pulled him into a bro-hug. When he touched him, his mind went wild with desire. His skin seemed to burn with every second it touched Ryan's. He felt himself getting hard. Embarrassed, when Ryan let go of him, he covered himself with his bag, and sat down next to him to talk about the essay, trying to get his mind off of his unusual thoughts.

They agreed on meeting up in Ryan's dorm after classes so Liam could tutor him, or end up writing the essay for him, he wouldn't mind. As long as he could get to hang out with him, he could write essays for him for the rest of his life. He would give everything to be close to Ryan. And that wish, as he would soon find out, would be granted.

Liam was restless the whole day, counting every second of every minute of every hour until he could see Ryan again. When the day was finally over, he ran to his own dorm to clean himself up and grab some stuff that he needed for the essay. He ran to Ryan's dorm as fast as he could, wanting to spend the longest amount of time with him as possible.

When he arrived and knocked on the door, the door opened almost immediately after he knocked, almost like Ryan was also eager to see him. He was shirtless, wearing only some short shorts that left little to the imagination. Liam couldn't help but stare for just a second, just enough for Ryan to notice.

"You don't mind me being shirtless, do you bro?" Liam just stood there stunned, not knowing exactly how to answer, opting for an awkard "N-no, not at all. If you're comfortable like that, I don't mind" Ryan smiled with a faint malice, one that Liam didn't pick up on. "Come on in, bro. Mi casa es su casa or however it goes".

When he walked in to the jock's dorm, he saw the absolute mess that the guy lived in. Clothes hanging around everywhere, none of them looked particularly clean. His kitchen sink was filled with dirty dishes, and the kitchen itself was a mess of various stains, presumably from meal prep and even more dishes. After a second of taking what would be his work environment in, he started getting that weird feeling again. His mind started racing and going places he really shouldn't right now.

"So, should we start with that essay of yours? The faster we finish the earlier you can send it in, right?" He hurriedly asked to try and get those thoughts away as fast as he could. "Uhh, sure bro. We could work on it on the couch, it's the most comfortable place to work, I think" Ryan answered, sitting down and signaling for Liam to sit down right by him.

The nerd's heart skip a beat, the idea of being so close to the Adonis of a man in front of him making him go wild with joy. He sat down right there next to him and pulled his laptop out of the bag he brought with him and started talking to Ryan about the assignment and what exactly he needed to write about.

They (actually, mostly Liam) got to work on the essay. With the jock just watching Liam write down idea after idea in the form of fancy and long words. Honestly, the work would have been much easier for the nerd if the beautiful man in front of him would stop being so attractive for a second. He would get distracted from time to time looking at the guy's incredible body. And his mind could not stop thinking about him in every inappropriate way possible, and Ryan noticed this, knowing soon would be the time to strike.

Almost two hours went by when Liam announced that the essay was done. "You're done already, bro? It would've taken me weeks to write that on my own, huhu" Ryan chuckled dumbly, turning around to face the guy who just gave him an A+ and lifting his arm up to reveal a jungle of wiry dark hairs in his pits. Liam immediately locked eyes on the jock's pits and felt his mind go absolutely crazy with want, desire and need. "It really was n-no problem at all" He stumbled on his words, trying to hide the thoughts he was having.

Ryan smiled maliciously, knowing exactly what was going in the nerd's mind. "You're tripping over your words, is everything okay, bro?" He lifted his arm further, scratching his back. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. I s-swear" Liam's eyes were glued to the dark and damp paradise that was just in front of him. That's when he noticed the smell: sweet and appealing, yet kind of musky and salty. The same smell that, unaware of it, he'd been inhaling since the first time he came close to Ryan.

"You finally figured it out, didn't you bro?" Liam was startled, but still unable of doing anything but stare at the jock's pits "W-what? What do you m-mean?" Ryan just chuckled dumbly again "That little feeling you've been having all day? That would be my smell, bro. It has a special effect on everyone around me, it makes me completely irresistible to those who inhale it" The nerd's mind was steadily fogging up, leaving him confused about everything he was saying to him.

"You can't even think anymore, dude!" Ryan cackled loudly "It normally just makes you attracted to me for a couple minutes, maybe hours. But you've been taking it in for more than two hours, that's where the other part of it comes by. Your intellect is melting totally, bro!" Liam could barely understand anything the jock was saying to him, his mind focused totally on his pits.

"I think it's time for you to take it straight from the source. Come here, bro!" Ryan grabbed the back of Liam's head and pushed it towards his pit, successfully drowning the latter in his scent. In his dazed state, Liam could do nothing to stop him, he just inhaled every bit of the man's smell. His mind melting totally into a sea of pure want and desire for him, leaving no room for any other thought other than pleasing the jock.

His body started heating up, continuing the process further. "Woah! Already at the physical changes then?" He felt hot all over, like in an oven. Suddenly, a pressure appeared on his entire body, pushing it outwards like a balloon getting inflated. Only he was being filled with pure meat and muscle all around. His arms grew, filling up nicely with hard muscle to impress anyone he wanted to. His pits became sweaty and hairy like Ryan's, producing his own musky scent. His hands became big and callused from his time at the gym, veins spreading from them out to his upper arms.

His chest grew heavy with soft muscle that would work like pillows for anyone who layed on them. His nipples growing sensitive and perky, perfect for playing with. Ryan took a handful of the muscle-tits he just gave him, getting a nice moan out of the former-nerd that got muffled by his pits still covering his face. His core grew strong and wide, abs popping into existence until he had a nice and hard six-pack to show off.

Above, his face reshaped to that of a hot jock, becoming sharp and beautiful. His hair grew messy and fluffy. Like the one you would see in a popular influencer, perfect for grabbing attention everywhere and from anyone.

Below, his legs grew into tree trunks ready to pull, carry or push any weight necessary. His thighs turning into the ones of a guy who never skipped leg day: wide, strong and incredibly sensual. His ass started inflating with soft muscle that lifted him up of his seat, making the task of getting as much of Ryan's scent easier. His calves looked like the ones you would see in a football player, and his feet grew into size 13 soles to match the size of his new body.

Finally, his junk grew to incredible sizes. His balls filling with powerful seed worthy of a jock, and his cock grew harder and harder until it started growing longer and wider. He reached a nice 9 inch monster the width coming close to that of a beer can. Ryan grabbed onto his cock and drew another moan muffled in the jungle of his pits. He started stroking it, coming close to the climax of Liam's transformation.

Memories of straight A's and studying were replaced by evenings in the gym, making his body as desirable as possible. Nerdy friends and interests became nights drinking with his bros, watching sports and talking about their recent conquests and affairs. And finally, any attraction he had towards any skinny guys disappeared, turning into desire for other big guys like himself. Specially for his lover, Ryan. Who he'd met in the beginning of college and with whom he had hit it off right away.

He spent every moment of every day possible with him. Going to the gym with him, sharing classes with him. Practicing football with him and enjoying themselves in the showers after evey game and every practice. Actually, enjoying themselves at every opportunity they could, in the car when they went out to eat. In the college's bathrooms, in their dorm every night after a long day of getting buff for his man. Leaving messes everywhere they were, none of them cared enough for cleanliness or being proper. He was absolutely devoted to him, caring only for what Ryan thought of him and needing to please him in every way possible.

The thoughts of pleasing him made him tip over the edge, finally coming in his new jockstrap and gym shorts. The remainder of his old clothes torn and destroyed around him. Finally lifting his head up from Ryan's pit, to look directly in his eyes and smiling dumbly. "Had fun, dummy?" Ryan spoke first, giving his jock a loving and mischievous look. "Well what do you think?" Liam signaled to the mess in his jockstrap, getting a laugh out of his boyfriend.

"I could still do one more round, though" The former-nerd said, getting up from the couch and walking towards their room, letting his laptop fall to the ground. He was shortly followed by his boyfriend in a fit of dumb giggles and chuckles. He's sure now that there's something about him, and it's everything about him.

----------------------------------------------------------

Hello hello! this is my very first story, i've been lurking in the shadows in the community but never dared to get into writing myself until now. I don't know if i'm going to upload regularly or if i'm even going to continue posting, but I wanted to at least give it a shot.

All constructive feedback is appreciated, if I do continue writing I want it to be as good as possible. Hope you enjoyed!

[uluvjay]

Winner, Winner-L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

In which Lando wins his first Grand Prix

Warnings?; smut, bathroom sex, quickie?, cursing, unprotected sex(a big no no), p in v, kissing, grinding, alcohol consumption, small mirror sex kink,uhh def some errors so i apologize, a week late bc writers block is a bitch!!, not the best ending.

You could feel your entire body shaking as you watched the screens, nails stuck between your teeth as the laps flew past. Jon stood next to you as you both felt your stomach’s twisting and turning.

When lap 57 hit the rest of the garage started to bounce, their bodies shaking with excitement and joy as your boyfriend turned that last corner.

You couldn’t help the tears and scream of joy that broke through when he crossed the line, cheers and applause filling the air as people jumped into each others arms.

You threw yourself into Jon’s open arms, hugging the older man as you both allowed the tears to freely fall.

“He fucking did it.” The man laughed as you two pulled away.

“He did, I’m so proud.” You smiled, lifting a shaky hand to wipe your tears.

“Go show him! Go, everyone’s heading out.” The man rushed as he pushed you away and you quickly followed behind the mechanics and engineers until you felt someone tug on your wrist.

“Y/n! This way, come on” Zak called pulling you behind him as he and Andrea rushed towards the barricades.

You made it just in time to watch your boyfriend launch himself into his crew, a laugh escaping you as they cheered for him as they held him high in the sky.

You watched on silently as he hugged Zak and Andrea, Lando hugging them tightly as they congratulated him and he thanked them for standing by him for so long.

When Lando’s eyes met yours he couldn’t help himself, quickly pulling away from his team principal he had you in his arms in seconds.

Your arms wrapping around his neck, hands diving into his wet curls while his hands gripped the material of your dress.

“Oh baby I’m so proud of you.” You spoke softly as you dug your head into his neck, one of large hands coming up to pull your head back.

“Are you crying!?” He laughed, his signature giggle filling the small space between you two.

“Yes! Leave me alone, you just won your first race I’m allowed to cry.” You laughed reaching up to wipe the tears.

“Aww baby.” He cooed pressing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss.

“I really am proud of you Lan, you worked so hard for this.” You smiled when he pulled away from your lips.

“Thank you baby.” He beamed dipping down to give you a few more kisses before he was being called to the cool down room.

“Go ahead, go do your champagne pop I’ll be right below waiting.” You pushed him.

“I love you!” He called behind him as he jogged off towards the people waiting for him.

You stood happily next to Zak as the boys came out, more tears brimming your eyes as god save the king played through the speakers.

Lando sending a wink your way as his eyes finally found yours, a bright smile on his face as he looked around the crowd below him.

You watched as max and Charles drenched him in champagne, the winner not even getting a chance to do his signature champagne pop before they attacked him.

But the second he was free his bottle smashed against the ground and was soon spraying the crowd, a wide smirk covering his face as he made sure to aim it at you.

Your head shook at his antics, a laugh breaking free as Zak stuck his tongue out for a taste.

Once the celebrations ended you made your way back to his driver’s room to wait, knowing he’d have a small debrief before the team celebration photo.

A little while later he finally stumbled into the room, his body drenched in champagne as he plopped down beside you on the leather couch, his head dipping back to rest against it.

“How you feeling champ?” You giggled running a hand through his sticky hair.

Lando opened an eye to look at you, a wide smile filling his face before he pulled you to rest on his lap.

“A whole lot of things, but right now sticky and hot and like I need three showers.” He laughed, his large hands coming to rest on your thighs.

“You wanna shower here or the hotel?”

“I’ll take a quick one here and a much, much, longer one at the hotel before we go out.” He replied, fully sitting up to look at you now, his fingers reached to fix your tangled necklaces, his thumb running over the golden four charm that hung on one of the three chains.

You smiled lovingly at him, unable to stop yourself as you leaned forward and captured his lips with yours, you hand reaching around the back of his head to pull him impossibly closer.

He groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding under the material of your sundress to grope your skin, his hips slowly beginning to buck up into your heat.

You whimpered as his bulge rubbed against your pulsing clit, moving your body to rest better over his cock as you allowed yourself to start grinding against him.

However your little moment was quickly ruined by the loud sound of his phone ringing, jumping back at the sudden noise you reached for the device on the table beside you.

“Just ignore it, already talked to my mum and dad.” He whined grabbing your hand to pull you back to him, his lips slanting over yours once again.

“Mmm, what if it’s important.” You spoke softly as you pulled alway from him once again.

“Then they’ll leave a message.”

You shook your head at him as he pulled you back in, his large hand tangled in your hair making sure you weren’t getting away again.

That was until the phone began to ring again, the sound once again disrupting Lando’s plans.

“Just answer it.” You laughed pulling back slightly, watching as he groaned dramatically but reached for the phone.

“Oliver what do yo-Oh! Hi Mila.” He quickly changed his tone seeing the face of his sweet niece on the other end.

“What do you say Mila?” You could hear his brother speak from the other end

“Yay lala won!” The young girl babbled.

“Yeah I won darling, thank you so much for calling.” He smiled softly at the girl.

You smiled at the heartwarming interaction, knowing how much he adores his nieces just never having much time to see them.

You slid off his lap, sending him a wink as he looked at you with a questioning look, moving around the room you began to pack up his and your things, leaving out a change of clothes for him after his shower.

“Okay bye bye, talk later love you all.” He spoke softly as he ended the call dropping the phone down he stood up and made his way towards you.

“Don’t even think about it.” You laughed as you saw him reaching for your waist.

“Go shower so we can get out of here, these shoes are killing me and I’d enjoy to change out of this dress as well.”

“Fine.” He groaned, stomping off into the small bathroom for a fast shower.

-

Two hours later you were stood at the sink in the hotel bathroom touching up your hair and makeup as you waited for Lando to finish getting ready for the club.

“Almost ready baby?” He questioned as he stepped up behind you, strong arms wrapping around your waist.

“Mhm just let me put some lip gloss on.” You nodded, leaning over slightly to reach for the small tube.

Lando whined as your movements caused your ass to rub against his still hard member, his hands reaching for the hem of your little dress.

“What time did max say to be there?”

“Nine, why?”

“just asking.” He shrugged, his lip tucked between his teeth as he took a peak at his watch.

It was 8:30, that gave him plenty of time to fuck yoy over this sink.

You gasped as you felt the hem of your dress get pushed up over your ass, the cold air of the ac hitting your exposed skin.

“Lando!” You scolded attempting to pull away from him however that only pushed you closer to the counter.

“What?” He chuckled, large hands palming your plump ass as he teasingly traced the band of your Lacy thong.

“We can’t, we have to go.” You whined feeling the material slide halfway down your thighs and the sound of his belt coming undone.

“It’s my win and my celebration, if I wanna fuck my girlfriend before going out, then I will.” He scoffed as he pushed your legs apart and slid his thick cock inside your awaiting cunt, filling you to the hilt.

“Feel so good baby.” He breathed into your ear, hands gripping your waist tightly.

His slow and measured thrust had your back arching as your cries echoed in the large bathroom, hands gripping onto the marble counter for some sort of leverage.

You gasp as one of his hands slides around your front, the pad of his finger sliding between your spread thighs as he found your clit with ease.

He growls at how wet you are for him, his fingers move in tedious circles as he coaxes even more moans from you, your body leaning on his as the pleasure began to become to much.

“So close.” You whimpered, feeling the heat in your stomach getting stronger and stronger as his thrusts kept up.

He hummed into the skin of you neck as his lips left a trail of wet kisses, sucking softly on the spot behind your ear earning him a purr of pure pleasure.

“Gonna come for me baby? Make a mess on my cock?” He teases, blue eyes finding yours in the large mirror in front of you.

You can see the hunger in his eyes, see the way he’s enjoying watching you fall apart for him, how your face distorts at any touch he places on your body.

“Fuck! Yes, so close Lan.” You cry as his hips speed up, his fingers matching the pace as he fucks you into your release.

A choked cry spills free as you reach your high, lando wrapping an arm tight around your waist in order to keep you up as your knees buckle from the pleasure.

Your moans get higher as he keeps fucking your, hips moving at an unholy pace as he feels his own release rapidly approaching.

“Cum for me.” You slur, a soft whine leaving you as his hands move back to your hips, nails digging into your skin as he comes inside you with a deep grunt.

His head tucked into the crook of your neck as his hips stutter a few more times before completely coming to a stop.

You reach back to play with his curls, his hands slowly moving around your body as he begins to leave chaste kisses to your neck.

Finally pulling away from you he smirks at you in the mirror, both of your cheeks flushed and hot, a post orgasm glimmer in your eyes.

“Just couldn’t wait till later could you champ?” You teased him slightly.

“No, you looked to good baby.” He smirked before placing kisses to your shoulder blade as he pulled out and tucked himself away.

He pulled your panties back up and your dress back down over your ass, giving it a small smack for good measure before turning your body to face him.

“I love you.” He hummed softly.

“I love you too my race winner.” You smiled right back before locking his lips with yours for a short kiss before the ringing of his phone once again ruined another moment.

“Shit it’s max.” He winced before answering the Dutchman’s call.

-

[bsturnzmtts]

That’s what friends are for - Matt Sturniolo

Re uploaded because my account bsturnzmtt got deactivated :( Please follow and let me know if you want to be in my tag list !

Paring: softdom!Matt x innocent! Reader

Contains/warnings: manipulation, inexperienced reader, fingering, oral (fem receiving), loss of innocence kinda, pet names, aftercare, no p in v

Summary: You go crying to Matt after a group of friends' laughed at your innocence and inexperience. So Matt decides to help you...

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

You were hanging out with your friends, everything was going normal until someone made a weird question.

“Where is the weirdest place you’ve touched yourself at?” Someone asks.

Everyone laughs and starts answering “at a restaurant”, “library”, “school” etc. You stay silent confused by the question not understanding. When everyone else answers except you, someone turns to face and asks. “What about you?”

You freeze feeling nervous and confused. “Uhh I- I don’t understand…” You say.

Everyone laughs thinking you were joking, when they see you don't laugh they realize you weren’t joking. Everyone stared at you weirdly and started saying all kinds of stuff. “She can’t serious”

“You can't be that dumb.”

“You're such a prude.”

“Oh god, she's actually that innocent.”

Your eyes blurring with tears at the comments people are throwing at you. You don't understand anything, you don't understand why they are being this mean to you. You quickly grab your things and storm out of there. You don't wanna go home, but you can't stay on the streets crying. So you decide to go to your best friend's house, Matt. His house is just a couple blocks away so you walk there.

By the time you get to his house tears stop falling out of your eyes. But it’s clear that you've cried, your red eyes selling you out. You knock on his door.

He answers the door, his warm smile immediately putting you at ease, even in your emotional state. His eyes flicker to your reddened eyes he tilts his head slightly, concerned by your state. “Hey there, sweetheart. What's wrong?” He softly asks with concern.

“I- I’m so sorry to show up to your house like this, it’s just that… tha-.” You can feel yourself start to cry again.

Matt quickly pulls you into a heartfelt hug, letting you cry on his shoulder. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” He murmurs softly, his hand gently rubbing your back. “No need to apologize, you can always come to me, you know that, right?”

You nod but continue to cry on his shoulder.

He continues to hold you, waiting for you to calm down enough so that you can talk about what happened. Once your sobbing subsides a little, he gently guides you to his couch and sits down next to you. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You can tell me anything, you know that. So go ahead, what happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it…” your voice breaks a little bit as you say that

“Okay. That's fine too. You don't have to talk about it if you don't feel ready yet.” He squeezes your shoulder gently, offering silent support and comfort. “How about we just sit here for a little while?”

You nod. Some minutes go by, you're completely done crying and your breathing is back to normal now. “They all laughed at me…” you suddenly say in a quiet voice.

He frowns, listening. "Who laughed at you, sweetheart? And why?" He asks.

“We… we were all hanging out, it was all good. We were having a good time until someone asked…” you start explaining.

"Ask what, love?" He gently prods you to continue, keeping a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Someone asked, ‘Where is the weirdest place you’ve touched yourself at?’” You say.

His expression and posture changes completely from comforting to protective. He pulls you in even closer, scowling. "And what did you say?"

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything. Everyone was answering until someone asked me… I- I told him I didn’t understand the question.”

His grip on you tightens, eyes flashing with a mix of anger and concern. "Fuck. Those bastards." He mutters under his breath. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

“They all laughed at me and called me a prude? I think. I don’t remember the word.”

"I don't care what they said, you are not a prude." He gently tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.

“What's a prude?” You ask confused.

He brushes his thumb across your cheekbone, a soft smile on his lips. "A prude is someone who is overly conservative or modest, especially when it comes to sex or relationships. They think you're naive or inexperienced because you didn't answer their crude question." He cups your face, looking into your eyes.

“… what did their question mean?” You ask.

Matt could see your innocence through your eyes. His eyes widen and he sighs heavily, his thumb still rubbing soothing circles on your cheekbone. He looks down, realizing that he may have to explain something uncomfortable to you. "It's a question about masturbation, okay? Touching yourself in a sexual way."

“Oh, like … sex?” You ask innocently.

"Not exactly, love. It's more about pleasuring yourself, especially when you're alone." He pauses, considering how much to reveal. "Sometimes people touch themselves in private, for pleasure, to relieve tension.”

“Ohhh… I’ve never done that.” You say quietly.

His eyes flicker with surprise, but he quickly masks it with a neutral expression. "Oh. Really?" He looks at you with new eyes, as if he's seeing a different side to you. "That's okay, it's your choice. Everyone has different levels of comfort when it comes to sex and sexual activity" He reassures you, sliding his hand down to rest on your shoulder. "But, there's nothing wrong with it if you ever feel like giving it a try."

“Does it… feel good?” You ask with curiosity.

He chuckles, a soft, warm sound. "Yes, it can feel very good.” he admits with a smile. "You feel a rush of pleasure, a release of tension and stress. Some even say it helps with sleep." he explains, his eyes never leaving yours.

You pay attention to his words, your curiosity growing every second. “Have you done it?” You ask innocently with curiosity.

His smile turns into a soft chuckle again as he looks away, clearing his throat. He seems a bit hesitant to answer, but eventually meets your gaze again. "Yes, I have. It's a normal part of life, love."

“Ohhhh” you respond.

He leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers. "What is it, sweetheart?“ His hand slides down to rest on your hip, fingers tracing gentle circles on your skin. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?" His voice is low, a husky whisper. "Wondering what it would feel like…” His eyes narrow slightly, studying your reaction, noticing the subtle hitch in your breath and the way your cheeks flush. He leans in closer, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. "You're...interested, aren't you?”

You nod slowly, feeling a little shy. “But.. I- I don’t know how to…”

His soft smile turned into a smirk. “Shhh, don't worry.” He reassures you. "I'll teach you." His hand moves from your hip to your waist, pulling you closer to him. His other hand reaches up to gently cup your face .“I'll be here to guide you through it all."

“Mhh… I don’t know” you say feeling nervous and unsure.

His smirk grew wider. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “Trust me.” he whispers, his hand sliding from your waist to gently rest on the small of your back. He pulls you even closer to him, leaving very little space between your bodies. "It's just you and me, okay?" He can be very persuasive... "I promise to make you feel good," he whispers.

You think about it still feeling unsure.

He watched you hesitate, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Don't you trust me?" He asks, feigning a sad expression. “I just want to help you.” He says with a disappointed voice. “That’s what friends are for.” His eyes sparkle with mischief. “And we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“… of course I trust you Matt, you’re my best friend. I just.. I-”

He watched you stutter, his grin growing wider with every passing second. He knows he had you exactly where he wanted you. "Then let me help you. We are best friends. And best friends do...well, all sorts of things together." He says with a little chuckle. He can't help but find your innocence and nervousness adorable. He loves how you don't know what his intentions actually are. "I've been planning this moment for a long time now." His hand moves up to your face again, lightly brushing away loose hair from your cheek. "I know what's best for you, I promise. You can trust me.”

“You promise it won't hurt?” You softly ask. You still feel very unsure but you want to show him that you trust him and that he is your best friend.

He gives your face a reassuring squeeze, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "Absolutely not, sweetheart. I promise, it won't hurt at all." He speaks in a soothing, calming tone, his eyes filled with a gentle sincerity. “In fact, it will feel amazing.”

You nod as he says that, you really love Matt as your best friend. So you accept not wanting to ruin your friendship.

He knew he had you right where he wanted you - vulnerable and willing, trusting his every word. "That's a good girl," he cooed, his voice dripping with approval and affection. His eyes are filled with lust and desire. He gently caresses your arm, his fingers trailing down slowly, sending chills running up and down your body.

He watches your reactions closely, gauging your level of comfort and arousal. Seeing you shiver at his touch, he knows he's making progress. His hand slides from your arm to the hem of your shirt, fingers dancing teasingly along the fabric. "First, we need to get you out of this." His hands slowly lifted it up your torso. He fully takes off your shirt revealing the lacy bra underneath. He admires your body for a few seconds. “Fuck” he murmurs. He takes your hand and guides it to his crotch, his fingers intertwining with yours as he presses your palm against the hard bulge in his pants. "See how much you affect me, sweetheart?" he murmurs again, his breathing growing more every second. You let out a small gasp as you feel a hard bulge.

He watches your face as you feel his hardness through his pants, your small gasp and the way your eyes widen slightly. “Ah, you feel that?" He whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Don't be shy," he whispers, urging you to stroke him gently. He moans lightly at your touch, his eyes closing in pleasure. "God, you drive me crazy." he says, his voice filled with a husky warmth that makes your stomach flutter. "You like that, sweetheart?" He continues to press your hand against his crotch, loving the way your innocent touch makes him feel. He says as he leans down to kiss you deeply while caressing your breasts over the bra. He reaches around your back and undoes the clasp on your bra. He gently tugs the straps down, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He leans in, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it gently.

“Mmmh” you let out a whiny moan feeling his tongue against your hard nipple.

He savors the sweet, innocent sound of your moan, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud as he sucks gently. "Mmm, you like that don't you?" He murmurs, the vibrations of his voice against your sensitive skin sending another wave of pleasure through you. He continues to tease and taste your nipple, his other hand massaging your other breast, making sure to give it equal attention. After a few seconds he moves one hand down to your thighs, gently caressing them as he makes his way upwards. "You're so beautiful, sweetheart."With a gentle but firm grip, he pushes up your skirt, making space for himself to touch you more intimately. As his hand inches closer to your core, you can feel the heat building between your legs, aching for more of his touch. His hand finally reaches your panties, his fingers grazing the fabric over your slick folds. "Fuck, you're so wet already," He gently rubs your clit through the fabric of your panties, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm in pleasure.

You bite your lips and let out muffled moans.

He smirks at the sight of you trying to stifle your moans and he loves knowing he's the one causing such delicious chaos. With a smirk he knows you can't see, he slowly lowers his hand, pulling down your panties as he does.

When he fully took your panties off you automatically close your legs feeling embarrassed.

His eyes light up as he sees your instinctive reaction to expose yourself, a mix of shyness and vulnerability. "Don't be shy, baby. I want to see you, all of you." He gently spreads your legs apart. He leans down, his breath fanning against your slick folds, making you gasp, his eyes devouring the sight of your bare, glistening sex.

You close your eyes, your breathing gets heavy, you bite your lip harder. All because of the feeling of his hot breath hitting your core.

He slowly exhales against you, the heat making you tremble despite the lack of direct contact. "You're so responsive, it's a fucking turn-on." He reaches up and gently runs a finger along your slit before pulling back and bringing that finger to your lips, gently pressing it against them. "Open your mouth, my love.”

You stay paralyzed for a few seconds, but then decide to do what he says. So you open your mouth looking at him with my innocent doe eyes showing confusion.

He chuckles at your look of confusion. Seeing your innocent, confused expression makes him smile. "Don't question it, just do as you're told," he whispers, his voice low and commanding, and slowly slides his finger into your mouth. He groans at the sight of watching you as you taste yourself for the first time. He guides your tongue to his finger, coating it with your saliva. "Good girl. That's it, sweetheart. Suck on it” he says before taking it back into his own mouth and sucking off the slickness.

You watch as he takes his finger out of your mouth soaked with a mix of your wetness and saliva. He pushes it into his mouth savoring you. You feel your pussy clench around nothing as he does that.

His eyes darken with lust as he sees your reaction to his actions. He groans, savoring the taste of you on his finger. "Fuck, you're delicious," he says hungrily. He can't help but press his palm against your pussy, feeling the heat radiating from between your legs. "You're so fucking wet, it's dripping down your thighs." His eyes flicker up to meet yours for a moment before he leans forward and uses that wet finger to circle your clit.

“Mmhp Matt.” you squirm and moan.

"What was that, princess?" he murmurs. He continues to circle your clit slowly and gently at first, but he increases the pace as he sees you squirm and moan, the wetness from your own arousal making it easy to glide. His other hand moves to gently grip your thigh, applying gentle pressure to spread your legs wider for him.

You cover your mouth with your hands trying to hide your moans and whimpers.

He chuckles at the futile attempt to muffle your sounds, clearly enjoying the way you struggle to contain quiet. He continues to pleasure you until he hears you stifle a moan behind your hands. "Don't hide that beautiful sound, sweetheart.” he murmurs, pulling your hands away slowly and bringing your fingers into your mouth instead. You suck on his fingers for a few seconds before he pushes them out. “I want to hear you scream my name," he says urgently, his own voice husky with desire. He moves down between your legs and replaces his fingers with his tongue, licking and sucking your clit.

“Mmh oh god Matt.” you desperately moan.

"That's it, princess. Say my name." He presses his tongue firmly against your clit and hums, sending a wave of pleasure through you. The vibrations make you arch your back as he holds onto your thighs, keeping you spread open for him. He smirks against you, feeling you growing wetter against his tongue, which is clearly loving the taste of you, as he is using his fingers to part your folds even more so that he can have easier access. "You taste so fucking good, princess. I could spend hours tasting every inch of you," he murmurs against your pussy, continuing to lick and suck your clit while he slides one finger into your wet pussy.

“Ahh Matt.” you moan in pain and pleasure, feeling his finger stretching you out for the first time.

"You're so fucking tight, princess. Does it hurt?" he coos, his tongue never leaving your clit. “Mhm” you nod. "Relax, princess. Just breathe," he coos, feeling your tightness around his finger. He slowly pumps it in and out, letting you get accustomed to the feeling. You keep letting out moans of pleasure and pain. He smirks against your pussy, pushing his finger deeper, crooking it to hit your g-spot. He could see the mix of pain and pleasure on your face, which made him push his finger in even deeper. "You're so tight.” He says slowly adding a second finger to the first one.

“Matt…Matt mhh.” you whimper in pain.

“Shhh. You're doing so well," His fingers curl inside you, stroking that sensitive spot, applying gentle pressure making you gasp and buck your hips. He lets out a low groan, feeling your walls clench around him. "Fuck, you're gripping me so tightly.” He groans. "You're being such a good girl, just try to breathe." He presses his tongue firmly against your clit, giving it attention as well.

Your moans of pain turn into moans of pleasure after a few minutes. “Mmh mhhp.”

He smirks against your pussy, pleased with the shift in your moans. His fingers continue to pump in and out, curling and stroking that spot inside you that makes you quiver. He adds a third finger, gently stretching you further, feeling your tight walls accommodate him. "You're doing so well, taking my fingers like a good little slut." He continues to finger fuck you, making sure he's hitting your g-spot repeatedly that makes your breathing becoming erratic and your legs tremble. His tongue doesn't leave your clit, applying different kinds of pressures as he continues to suck. "You taste like heaven." He says, his fingers pumping in and out of your tight pussy, curling and stroking that sensitive spot inside you. His tongue continues to flick and suckle your clit, making you feel like you're going to explode any moment.

“Mmh Matt … ahh I-”

"You're almost there, aren't you?" He can feel your pussy starting to clench and flutter around his fingers. His fingers curl and stroke hard across your g-spot, making sure you're right on the edge. He sucks harder on your clit, flicking his tongue in response to the way you clench around him. "Cum for me, darling." he growls against your sensitive clit, feeling you quiver and shake around his fingers. He pumps them faster, curling them deeper inside you, hitting that spot that makes your legs tremble, making you see stars. "Come on, princess, scream for me.” Before you could finish, he suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his tongue. He flicks his tongue against your g-spot, feeling it quiver beneath his touch. His fingers now focus on your clit, pinching and rolling it between his thumb and index finger. You finally cum. You come undone is his mouth and fingers. You let out a scream of pleasure as you do. He pulls back his fingers and removes his mouth from your pussy, leaving you quivering. He smirks at you, his fingers coated in your juices, licking them slowly, his eyes locked onto yours.

You look at him, your body still quivering a bit, and you're trying to catch your breath.

He watches you breathe heavily, your chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. He reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, his hand lingering for a moment on your cheek. "You're absolutely gorgeous when you cum." he says with a satisfied smile. He admires your glistening pussy with a satisfied smirk. He leans in close and whispers in your ear, "You taste amazing, princess." His free hand moves up to your chin, gently guiding your face to meet his. He leans down and kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself. His tongue slips in and out of your mouth with ease, mimicking the movement of what he was just doing to you. He gently strokes your quivering inner thighs, his fingers leaving trails of heat. He pulls you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him. His erection is prominent against his pants, straining against the fabric.

You rest your head on his chest feeling tired.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. He runs his fingers through your hair and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. He can feel your heart still racing from your intense orgasm. "You okay, princess?" He murmurs softly, his hand gently stroking your back.

“Mhm” you nod softly.

He lifts your chin up to meet his gaze, his fingers tracing your jawline. “Good." He says with a small smile. He moves you off of his lap and lays you down gently on the bed, his body following yours before he wraps you up into a spooning position. His hand comes to rest on your waist as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “Did it feel good?” He asks.

“Yes” you reply as your cheeks turn pink.

He lets out a soft chuckle, nuzzling his face into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your sensitive skin. “I love hearing that.” He murmurs before placing another kiss against your skin. He rests his hand against your stomach, pulling you closer. He starts to gently move his hips, pressing his erection against your ass as he grinds gently.

“Matt…”

He stops moving his hips, his hand stilling against your stomach. He kisses your neck gently, then whispers against your skin. “Yes, princess.”

“…. thank you” you say shyly.

“No need to thank me, doll. It’s my pleasure.” He says with a small smile that you can feel against your skin. He turns you around to face him, his hands cradling your face. He presses a soft kiss against your lips before pulling back and looking into your eyes. He sees the exhaustion and pleasure in them and can't help but smile softly. “You don't have to thank me, princess. I’m your best friend, right? I would do anything for you, that’s what best friends do.

He tilts your chin up, his thumb gently stroking your lower lip. He watches as you cuddle closer in his arms. His breath ruffling your hair and his hips gently moving, grinding against yours. But he stops himself before losing control. "We should probably get you cleaned up and in some comfortable clothes, huh?" He suggests, his voice still soft and soothing. His hand drifts down to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Why don’t I run you a warm bath?”

“Can we stay here for a bit?” You softly ask, feeling tired.

He smiles softly, his thumb continuing to stroke your lower lip. "Of course, princess. We can stay right here." His other hand still on your thigh, he gives a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing small circles on your skin. He pulls a blanket over you both, tucking you in close to his side.

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[mellotunekitty]

hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with them messaging s/o or coming into their apartment late at night to come to bed and the boys are like “I can’t sleep. Can we talk?” and s/o messages back or says after sort of wake up “I can sleep” and they fall back asleep 😂. When s/o does properly wake up hours later, s/o pulls their man in for morning cuddle, but then their mind starts working and they ask seriously, “�� did you want to talk about something last night or was I dreaming it?” Or for messaging, s/o remembers and gives their boyfriend a call and is happy to be talking to them and they ask the same question over the phone “I thought I dreamt it, but I just noticed you message me and I sent that back… I was exhausted and in a deep sleep. Did you still want to talk?”? Basically s/o isn’t very good to interact with or function when they’re tired 😂? (It’s all good people staying up all night for their love of their life, but what about a s/o who’s never able too?. They fall asleep in bed and then are woken up by their boyfriend sneaking in. They frequently pass out after their boyfriend sneaks into their bed. S/o Hair a mess. “What?… oh… zzzz” would be how the boys identity probably stayed a secret for the longest time. Wouldn’t even notice the blurry mask and spandex suits in their tired state).

omg yes, as a sleepy person, i LOVE this idea!!!

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Batboys x Sleepy gn!reader

Bruce Wayne

Being home late meant low chances of having an actual conversation with you. He needed help setting up the gala for tomorrow and you guys were supposed to plan it tonight

“My love, wake up for a minute. We have to set the plans, remember.” 

You sat up for a moment, sitting next to him in bed to help him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long seeing as you almost immediately fell asleep on his shoulder. 

He just sighed and put his laptop away, figuring you guys could plan it later or just use what you had. 

It was a bit funny though, seeing you so out of it trying to stay awake and focus on the plans. 

“And I think we should serve lemonade with the… darling? Are you listening?” “Hm? Yeah…” 

Dick Grayson 

He usually came home to you sleeping after patrol, so he figured he’d have to wake you up if he wanted to discuss tomorrow's date plans.

“Babe? Hey, wake up, I gotta talk to you…” 

It works…for a few seconds. You woke up, but mumbled something incoherent before falling back asleep. 

Dick just chuckled and shrugged it off, figuring he could just talk to you in the morning. The date wasn’t until later anyway, and sleeping beside you seemed more appealing at the moment.

“It’s okay… I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, sweetheart.” 

Jason Todd

Poor Jason couldn’t sleep at all. He tried everything from warm drinks to meditation, but nothing seemed to work. So, he called you. 

“Hey, y/n? Yeah, uhm… can I come over?” 

He got a half mumbled ‘yeah’ before heading over. Of course when he did, you were tucked in, all cute and sleepy. 

Jay slipped in next to you, snuggling against you and had the easiest time falling asleep. However, in the morning, you looked shocked, not remembering him coming in. 

“...when did you even get here?!” 

Tim Drake

It was always a 50/50 with Tim. Either he slept anytime, anywhere, or he couldn’t sleep at all. Tonight, he couldn’t sleep. So, he called you. 

“Hey, baby, I can’t sleep. Can we just uhh… talk for a while?” 

He got all warm and gushy when he heard your muffled little ‘yes’ from under your blankets. 

But he quickly realized you weren’t the best person to talk to when you were tired. You couldn’t hold a conversation at all and eventually, he found out that you sleep talk. It was a pleasant surprise to him.

“What are you saying now, hm?” “The banana… lost my hat.” “Oh, yeah, I bet.” 

Damian Wayne

The second you opened your eyes when he walked into the room as Robin, he thought he had completely blown his cover. Apparently, he didn’t. 

“Go back to bed… you don’t see anything.” 

He was shocked it actually worked, but he shouldn’t have been too surprised. He knew you’d take any and every opportunity to sleep. 

Damian hastily got out of his Robin suit and got into pajamas, sliding into bed next to you. It was a bit of a funny thought to him, the fact that you didn’t even question Robin being in your room… right? 

“I had a weird dream last night.” “About?” “I dreamt that Robin was in my room.”  

[peachsukii]

Imagining being a pro hero that's caught by the paparazzi one day after a rescue, demanding to know your relationship status cause sex sells and shit. Of course nothing pertaining to the main perk of your job as a hero - saving people.

"Y/H/N! Fans are dying to know if you're on the market or not!"

You roll your eyes while wiping your gloves off on your thighs, dirt and grime smearing on the material.

"I save lives and am on the clock 24/7. Do you think I have time for someone else right now?" You don't mean to come off snippy, but you're exhausted and sick of the media focusing on this bullshit and not the important part of your work.

The reporter keeps pressing until a few more approach you, barking similar questions and absurd suggestions about dating a hero instead of a citizen. You're trying to wave them off to catch up with the police and give them your report, struggling to get them off your tail when Bakugo sees your distress. He only knows you by proxy, working with you a handful of times and only exchanging words related to whatever rescue or fight you were tasked with.

He shouldn't intervene, but fuck it.

He walks up to you and casually drapes his arm over your shoulders. The close proximity to you makes his skin crawl, but not in a disgusting way, more of a...nervous way.

"What's the problem?" Bakugo shouts, glaring at all the reporters one at a time. "We got shit to handle."

"Are you two an item?!" a few of the reporters chirp, cameras rapidly flashing at the two of you.

Bakugo's not thinking when he responds nonchalantly. "Sure, whatever, now fuck off and let us do our jobs ya extras!"

He turns you around and shoves his middle finger in the air at the crowd behind him, shuffling the two of you out of their sight. He lets his arm fall from your shoulders.

"Uhh...thank you?" you say hesitantly, confused by his actions. "I appreciate it."

"S'nothin', those pricks are never satisfied. Good work today, Y/H/N. Saved my ass with your quick reaction to the buildin' collapsing."

"Of course, we gotta have each other's backs out there."

And that's it - your conversation is over and you two go your separate ways.

It's the next day that the press starts rolling out the headline, "Y/H/N and Dynamight revealed to have secret romance!" that is going to force the two of you to talk again. Bakugo's kicking himself in the ass over what he said to them, and his actual girlfriend is pissed as hell, too. Aside from the thousands of notifications from social media, emails and messages, one stands out to you while trying to sort this whole thing out.

(Unknown): Hey, it's Dynamight. Got your number from your agency. (Unknown): This shit is getting out of hand and we need to do damage control. (Unknown): Call me whenever you can, thanks.

What a pain in the ass, but at least he's willing to own up to the mistake and talk with you about it.

Little did you know it wasn't to correct the rumor's validity, but to perpetuate it.

[taakitz]

ATLA (zukka….) au where everything is mostly the same except that the phrase “friend of the Avatar” is a euphemism for being gay, a la the phrase friend of Dorothy

(the phrase started towards the start of the 100 year war because in this universe Avatar Roku was some flavor of gay, then Sozin canonically banned gay marriage after their situationship went downhill. so people had to be more subtle about communicating their identities, something something something, the phrase became semi-commonplace throughout the fire nation and later the earth kingdom. maybe it started even earlier because of bi queen kyoshi. who knows!)

miscommunication and self-discovery ensues throughout the events of ATLA:

early on into his banishment and search for the avatar, Zuko runs into someone who casually mentions that they’re a “friend of the Avatar” and he’s immediately like “THE AVATAR IS ALIVE? WHERE ARE THEY. TELL ME”

…he learns a new phrase that day! perhaps he didn’t even know gay people existed until that awkward encounter (bc sheltered fire nation royal.) maybe he does some self reflection at this point, or perhaps he puts off his sexuality crisis in favor of his avatar hunting mission. who’s to say?

(the next time he hears someone say they’re “a friend of the avatar” he asks if they’re gay or if they actually know the avatar. you know, just in case they actually do.

….and the next time after that, too.

but after that he catches on pretty quickly that, no, it’s REALLY just a turn of phrase, and he does not repeat the mistake again.)

+ early into the series events sokka runs into some confusion when he mentions to a stranger that he’s a friend of the avatar while aang isn’t around—

sokka: hey so uhh i’m actually a friend of the avatar… think i can get a discount for that??

kindly ally shopkeeper: oh! i love that for you!! you know, i have a cousin who’s gay, real swell guy. anyways about the discount—

book one sokka, canonically sexist and with perhaps a fragile masculinity: what wait a sec, IM NOT GAY??????

shopkeeper: oh that’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself or put a label on it to me (:

(sokka does in fact get a discount.)

he walks back to katara who was waiting for him and overheard the whole conversation, and she says “you know, sokka, it’s fine if you like boys.” sokka responds as you’d expect he would at this time.

(some amount of time later, sokka comes up to katara and aang very nervously and says “hey guys. i think i might. um. be a friend of the Avatar.”

and aang, confused but enthusiastic, goes “aww buddy, we’re already friends!!!!”)

at some point they’re fighting Zuko and during a back-and-forth exchange, Sokka proclaims “i won’t let you hurt him, the Avatar is my friend!” or something to that effect

Zuko, who has learned from his past mistakes in misconstruing this phrase, says “love is love. but your sexuality will not stop me from capturing the Avatar”

[jinxs-gf]

Can I? (kiss the hurt away)

YJ!Conner Kent x Spider!Reader

summary: you get hurt during a mission and Conner just wants to help. this finally brings you two together.

content/warnings: set in s1, lots of wounds, blood mentioned, awkward flirting…this was a shared prompt w my two besties, here’s my version! (I switched it up a bit), funny writing bc it’s from spider!reader’s perspective (mostly)

word count: 2.1k

a/n: FIRST CONNER FIC YAYAYYAYAYAY I hope people actually read for him lmaooo…enjoy!

There's a ringing in your ear for a while, your vision blurred. Just as you come out of it there's a voice—

"You okay?"

One you're very familiar with.

You slowly blink your eyes open. You're not sure what the hell your enemy just blasted you with, but it was enough to knock you out and make everything hurt. A lot.

"Uhh I think so?" Conner watched the white eyes of your mask blink, he could tell you were in fact, not okay.

He could see it from a distance, the distance he unknowingly made while fighting. He promised himself he'd stay close at all times when the team was in danger, when you could potentially get hurt. And look at you now. His ignorance to what was going on around him got you hurt.

At least that's what he told himself.

You swat his hands as he starts fussing over you, too disoriented to think about the action. Until you see his hurt face. He was only trying to help.

But Conner thinks, you were pushing him away, and rightfully so when he's the reason you're hurt in the first place.

"No no it's-" you heave a rugged sigh, your lungs feeling heavy. "I'm just out of it. Sorry. What was that guy packing in his gun anyways?"

Conner's reluctant in his assistance to you now, but you encourage him with a smile. He lifts you to your feet, securing an arm around your waist to ensure you wouldn't fall back down. You definitely weren't in a state to be walking and that's proven when your legs wobble and all your weight falls onto him. Something he doesn't mind and in a different situation would smile at.

But you hiss as his pulls you up, and he's brought back to reality.

"Thanks Con-man." Another smile for him and his shoulders relax.

"I have no idea what that man was packing in his gun. All I know is it hurt you...really badly. You were out the rest of the fight."

"I was?" A quick look around and sure enough, you were. The quietness of the area should've been a clear sign there was no longer a battle going on.

"Looks like I was." And suddenly the team is behind you. It's a miracle the rest of them avoided getting hurt the way you did (which was a little embarrassing considering your spider senses).

"You alright, Spidey?" Wally and Artemis ask at the same time, they glare at each other for it.

"Jinx. Artemis, you owe me a soda."

"I do not-" you cut them off, ending the argument before it could start.

"Yeah I'm alright." But the way you leaned heavily onto the SuperBoy and breathed unevenly told a different story. Although that was nothing new, was it? You somehow were constantly hanging off the boy one way or another (not literally...though you wish it was).

"Are you sure? We'll have you get checked back at headquarters," Kaldur speaks. You simply nod, too weak to really do much else.

Robin was looking worriedly, trying to hide it but you could see right through him. You shot him a smile.

While the team discussed what to do with the bad guy, you stayed with Conner. There was an awkward silence until he spoke up, having enough of your small hisses and puffs at his side.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know, everything? I'm hurting everywhere," you were practically mumbling, fatigue evident with every word you spoke.

He huffs and places you on the floor again, carefully avoiding any rubble from the fight. Another pained hiss from you.

"Sorry sorry, I know," he's trying to figure out his next move. "I don't know how to make it better."

You shake your head, "that's alright Conner. You don't need to, you're not a doctor or anything."

And yet he looks guilty, like your wounds and the fact that he hasn't already done something to ease the pain was his fault. He eyed the arm you've been holding around your abdomen this whole time.

"You being here right now is enough. I promise. And this," you lift your arm finally, making a soft noise of pain in between, "it'll go down by tomorrow-"

"Shit! When did that happen?" His voice startles you, the sudden noise rattling your probably concussed brain. You finally look down to see blood dripping from a scratch in your suit.

"Shit. When did that happen? How..."

"I didn't realize it was that bad. I'm sorry."

"No Conner, it's okay-"

"Can I?"

"Huh?" And Conner is gesturing to your mask, your eyes widen.

"You're breathing too heavily for it to be comfortable. Please?" He wouldn't say part of it was because he needed to see your face to comfort him.

You nod.

He doesn't freak out when he takes it off, so that's a good sign.

"How do I look?" he doesn't answer for a few seconds, he's carefully observing your face it seems. You can't help but smile.

And he smiles back, "still beautiful as ever."

"Okay lover boy," you desperately wish the mask was on, if only to hide your timid expression. "You don't need to flatter me."

Conner clears his throat quickly, awkwardly. As if he didn't realize he said it out loud.

He really didn't mean to. But seeing how shy and...dare he say happy you looked after he said it, he thinks it wasn't such a bad thing.

"You have a few scratches. But you're still-"

"Beautiful as ever, yeah yeah I heard you," maybe he wasn't going to say it again, but you weren't going to risk it. You don't think you could take it if he said it. You'd probably do something stupid like kiss him—

He swallows thickly, still embarrassed. "We need to get you back," he goes to pick you up, only this time it's not so you can stand upright. No. He's preparing to carry you bridal style. Oh no. Now you really might kiss him (that is if you don't pass out within the next few seconds). "Can I carry you? I don't think you're in good enough shape to walk right now."

"Rude."

"No I didn't mean-"

You laugh, maybe a little meanly, you knew he wasn't good on certain social cues yet, making teasing him easy, "sorry- I know what you mean. Yeah it's...alright. You can totally carry me." Now you were beginning to feel awkward.

He picks you up easily. And you're starting to agree with him, you definitely weren't in any shape to walk if him lifting you was enough to make you dizzy.

You weren't kidding yourself when you said you'd pass out before you could kiss him.

Your head lays comfortably on his chest...right over his heart which happened to be beating like crazy.

Was that your doing? You really hope so.

He carries you a little behind the rest of the team, murmuring reassurances and praise. 'You did good back there.' 'You're gonna be okay, I'll make sure of it.' 'Stay close to me okay? I'll make it better.'

Bioship took you all back to Mount Justice, M'gann talking your ear off the whole time. Starting with worried rambles about how hurt you looked and fading into a new tv show she got into. One she wished her people on Mars could enjoy.

Usually you wouldn't mind it, but you could feel an oncoming headache the whole ride. You didn't have the heart to tell her to stop nor that you weren't really listening. Not feeling bad only because Wally seemed enthralled with her storytelling (suck up) and flirted here and there.

You were too busy focusing on your shadow anyways. Aka the SuperBoy who refused to leave your side and was quite literally on you the whole way. Between him, M'gann, and Wally's flirting with her (and Robin's occasional butting in to tease) you were surprised you didn't go insane on the ride back.

When you did get back, they told you it was bad (fatal for a normal person) but nothing you couldn't handle. Just a broken rib (unfortunately common for you) and a slight concussion. Great. Accompanied with bruises and the big gash on your abdomen. That weapon really did a number on you. Conner went off on the adults for saying it was "nothing you couldn't handle" because you were "on the brink of dying". Which is a bit dramatic, but having him be so protective over you was kind of nice...or whatever.

They suggested you took a break for a week and a half (a conclusion you came to after you'd negotiated with them for a good 5 minutes. because who do they think they were benching you—for good reason—for 2 weeks?!) should a mission come up within that time.

You sighed on the couch, everyone was either in their rooms or went home for the day. They said their goodbyes and wished you well, to which you replied 'pfft I'll be better by tomorrow. just watch.' It would be really embarrassing if you weren't better by tomorrow...you unfortunately bet money on it. Stupid.

"You okay?"

"A little better now. Thanks for taking care of me."

"I wish I could've done more...I said I would but all I did was sit back and watch everyone else take care of you." This was clearly eating at him, although it's a wonder why.

Nothing about the situation was his fault nor should he feel guilty about "not doing enough."

"Conner, I told you it's alright and that you being there for me was enough. And I meant every word."

He sits with you, thigh to thigh with his head in his hands.

You pat his shoulder, "it's alright big guy. I'm okay, I'll be fully recovered soon."

"Not soon enough."

You sigh, he could be really stubborn sometimes. Frustratingly so.

"Con, please. Look at me?" He listens. And you regret asking him. You hate the look in his eyes, or rather you hate the way it makes you feel. Another case of you're going to kiss him if he keeps this up.

How could such a big, stubborn, and (apparently) non-affectionate guy have the biggest puppy eyes? Ones that have you melting.

His face is now in your palms. With the way he's looking at you, surely he wouldn't mind if you gave in and...kissed him, right?

"Can I kiss you?"

He's stunned for a moment before finally speaking up, "isn't it obvious that I want you to?"

You both share shy smiles thinking, finally.

You lean in, hands still cupping his face, his now doing the same.

Although the kiss was a little awkward, the two of you not exactly experienced in that department (him coming out of a literal tube only months ago), as well as a little...messy—it was everything you could've wanted in your first kiss with him. A kiss that was going to be the start of the two of you. SuperBoy and the Spider. You hated how warm the thought made you.

You were practically radiating giddiness, Conner could feel it. He pulled away still smiling, "I've wanted to do that for a really long time now."

"Me too. You know what also was great about that? You kissed my ouchies away. I'm all better now."

"Ouchies? What are we, five?"

There's silence, not of awkwardness, but from two of you reeling from the kiss, processing the fact that it was real.

"I don't want to be the one to break this up but...we should really get to bed. With your concussion and training being early tomorrow..."

"Yeah, of course," the giddiness hasn't left, "would you uh...want to come? With me? To bed."

"Gee Spider, at least take me to dinner first."

"Oh, so he's got jokes now?"

"Only for you, babe."

"Ew, you sound like Wally."

"Ouch? Don't insult me like that," but he doesn't look offended in the slightest. There's probably the biggest smile you've seen on his face, ever.

Safe to say it was not fun explaining why Conner was in your bed the next morning, trying to convince everyone it was purely innocent.

Batman was disappointed, reminding you that you needed to wait until you were healed before you did anything physical. Haha. Very funny.

And the team snapped pictures that they would definitely use against Conner (seeing as he was the more...emotionally constipated and reluctantly affectionate one).

But you honestly couldn't be happier. And neither could he.

does it seem a bit rushed at the end? unfortunately

do I have the patience to fix it? no

hope you enjoyed :D

[akutasoda]

the fans are always right. right?

synopsis - mr reca seemed a bit more downbeat then your used too, maybe some rather interesting reviews would cheer him up

includes - reca

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, wc - 1.6k

a/n: i uhh had an idea... lost it and tried to salvage what i remembered and this was the result- anyway all the reviews used were given to me by some lovely people ( @tragedy-of-commons, @singularity-sam, @vxnuslogy, @mikashisus, @/milksnake-tea, @/tetrachrxmacy and @theother-victoria) try and guess who's who :))

a huffed sigh escaped you, slouching down in your chair as the clock ticked rhythmically in the background. mr reca was supposed to meet you around fifteen minutes ago. he'd never been late before.

a reasonable explanation would be that he had something more important to tend to. and that would be understandable. but for now you were bored out of mind and leaving wasn't an option as reca could show up at any time - he probably wouldn't be as forgiving if you were to show up after him.

today you two were meant to develop a new script and start on the storyboard for his latest idea. in honesty, you're still not quite sure how you landed this job. you wanted to start getting into directing films of your own but couldn't quite place how to start and so you settled for finding a job as a co-director.

after helping co-direct a few pieces here and there, you got a message from the esteemed mr reca. you had to do a couple (maybe even hundreds…) of checks to make sure you weren't actually dreaming. mr reca didn't exactly strike you as the kind of person to need or even want a co-director.

and yet here you were. apparently he enjoyed the sense of style you breathed into the films you helped direct and thought it would pair nicely with a couple of his. even to this day you find it hard to believe that you still had this job.

but you put your all into it. a lot of trust and expectation was placed upon you and you would be sure to not let him down. even if that meant waiting for him to show up for your appointed meetings.

twenty minutes.

you looked around the room for anything to pass the time, all you could think of was your phone laid idly on the desk. then an idea crossed your mind. reca had recently released a film. perhaps you could read some reviews to pass the time.

you never really expected yourself to be mentioned in any of them. yes you got credits and the recognition for being reca's personally selected co-director but most people still only talked about him in their reviews, which wasn't exactly a problem.

it didn't take long to find a rather reputable review page and so you began scrolling.

you should've expected the first one being a five star review

@bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "This film has changed my life. My whole outlook on everything that exists in this world, in fact even in the entire universe. I can never look at anything I know the same way ever again. This film represents emotions most humans could never comprehend. But I can. Thanks to this film I have been awakened to many things previously thought unimaginable. Thank you."

a rather extreme opinion in your eyes, reca did have some “over-the-top” fans. your became intrigued after stumbling across a one star review soon after

@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐

- "what ?"

[review has been deleted]

maybe it wasn't an actual review, but you stifle a laugh at the next review being from the same person

⭐

- "wrong movie how do i delete a review" (Edited)

perhaps this could definitely entertain you until reca arrived. you idly scrolled through the reviews, only stopping when some peaked your interest or made you smile

@seas_ablaze : ⭐⭐⭐

- "A film that does a lot of monkey business and goes bananas with it."

or alternatively,

@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "i've seen about a million movies and dear god this has to be one of the worst. an absolute slog to get through. the pacing was awful, everything took years to happen. the soundtrack was grating. the actors either put no effort in or way too much- either put them back on the street or send them back to the musical theater. the cinematography was dull at best and straight up nauseating at worst- i had to pause multiple times so i didn't get physically ill. and don't get me STARTED on the stilted script and dull characterization. and the dog isn't even a weenie."

you reckon they might have gotten the wrong film again… but it definitely explained the username-

and at that moment reca finally showed up, he pushed open the doors grumbling something - obviously whatever kept him busy wasn't pleasant. he had walked in with a huff and his expression didn't exactly read that of happiness.

you brushed it off and greeted him like you usually would, something that was greeted with another grumble which you could only guess was a hello of sorts towards you.

watching, you noted how he slumped into the chair on the other side of the desk and it became clear that he wasn't in the mood to get any work done. the silence was starting to get uncomfortable and so you slid your phone over to him, reviews still open.

reca perked one eyebrow up and questioned you “what's this about? we have duties to complete not waste time”

you hummed in response before sliding your phone closer until he picked it up “it's reviews from your latest film, it's not like we'll be getting things done soon and maybe they could help guide our planning” a small pause “they're quite entertaining”

he scrolled for a bit before stopping on one and reading it out loud

@/blink!vxnus! : ⭐⭐⭐⭐

- "film was great and very informative. it made the story far more interesting compared to other documentaries tackling the same story. - 1 because mr reca wasn't in the actual film"

“it's not very helpful, just compliments” he sighed “and wishful fans being normal”

you smiled in response before reaching over as he turned the phone to you and scrolling back up again “this one's a personal favorite, especially the comments”

@/bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "came for the reca shirtless scene, stayed for the storytelling. no regrets stan robin"

- @/ultimate_recakisser : "I mean I’d be the same as well I MEAN WHAT WHO SAID THAT Speakingofshirtlessrecaifoujdthisonefanartdoesanyonewantmetosendit?"

- @/bebe_fanpage101 : "me. dms. shhh."

- @/iwishsundaywasmywife : "id judge u both. but. im the same way abt bird man so i cant"

reca stared at the review, then the comments, before his face began morphing into something akin to the middle point of shock and disgust.

he sighed “there wasn't even a shirtless scene, these people are… enthusiastic, to be nice”

you hummed in response before suggesting that the lower rated reviews may help more and scrolled until you found some.

@/iwishsundaywasmywife : ⭐

- "Great movie. Plot flows well, characters are charismatic and overall a wonderful viewing experience. Just hate the director."

@/abardslyre : ⭐

- "my gf broke up with me for the director. mr reca count ur ******* days."

you had to hold back laughter at the sight of his face distorting into confusion and a slight grimace making the corner of his lips scowl

@/seas_ablaze : ⭐

- "This is awful, pretentious garbage. In all objective fact, he's an auteur wannabe who makes idiotic movies for the normie audiences who are too stupid to think for themselves. I didn't even watch more than five minutes of it, I just know it's bad from his name attached to it. I never made a movie before or have ever taken a film class, but even I could do better than this disgrace of an art form that only a few can ever hope to master. Hell, I would personally kill all subpar directors myself if I could, I'm just that smart. As Lord Scorsese says: Cinema is dead!"

mr reca sighed, deeply, “i can't decide if this helped or not, but im leaning no at the minute”

you definitely could say you enjoyed scrolling through the reviews more, but it wasn't hard to notice how his demeanor changed. how he wasn't so grumpy and you could've sworn that at one point you'd seen a smile on his face. your idea worked.

eventually you two managed to start discussing ideas - which was more him talking your ear off with his ideas and you listening and writing down anything he told you to. and then he paused.

before you even had the chance to question if anything was the matter, reca surprised you “maybe those reviews could help for the next film”

“what do you mean?” you couldn't believe what you were hearing, your spur of the moment idea to show him reviews to hopefully boost his mood so you could both actually talk about his next film properly worked. it actually gave him ideas.

reca prattled on about how some of the reviews gave him the idea for how to expand his latest idea that had hit a wall and now he could continue to elaborate the idea. it was sort of satisfying to see how passionate he had become despite his earlier attitude.

he then abruptly stopped before trailing off “maybe i should listen to some of those reviews and change genres”

you thought that was a rather drastic suggestion, arguing that his current genres worked perfectly fine and it was his speciality, his signature if you would. but then he started mumbling again

“maybe if we went that route… then you could…” he was trailing off, you could barely piece together his coherent sentence but you could pick up on “based on us”

“what? could you repeat that again mr reca?”

“what?”

mr reca was never easy to work with.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn, @https-sourlimes

[mimasroom2]

My tennis star! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Secretly dating jock!ellie

C/w: smut but for like 2 seconds. Mention of weed lol. Uhh that’s it this is pretty laid back. This is my first time using those fake texting things I think I like it? Idk

W/c: ≈ 800

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

- She plays tennis bc I said so 🎾

- She’d win a match and she’d post on her instagram story something REAL cheesy like “only reason why we won is because someone special was in the crowd💖” and everyone thinks she’s talking ab a guy but it’s really you >•<

- She’d pull you aside into an empty hallway and lean over you with her arm up (yknow. The classic masc move.) and whisper “You comin’ to the game tonight, baby?”

- It’s so fucking cheesy but you swear she makes your knees weak every time she talks with her sexy ass voice.

- “Too bad I can’t have a massive ass sign that says your name on it all big or something.” You grin widely and she laughs, leaning in to give you a soft kiss.

- You guys go on dates to the mall so she can buy new workout clothes & equipment. Every time you guys see someone you know in a store you split up and pretend to be looking at different things on other ends of the store. Eventually when they leave you two come back together and giggle.

- “Heya stranger.” She grins, showing you some knee high socks she found while she was pretending to look around.

- Only your two best friends know ab you and Ellie, so you’re always having to make up excuses as to why you’re going to the tennis games.

- “They needed help with grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for the game, and you know I always need more service hours!”

- “Man I’m sorry I can’t go to the movies tonight. I already told the tennis coach I’d do face painting for the little kids that come😕”

- You’re studying at your desk when the first message from Ellie absolutely jumpscares you. The girl really needs to learn about context 🙄

- Absolutely all the girls in the crowd and on the opposing team would swoon over her. She lovesssss the attention and always waves at the crowd and blows kisses to them. Sometimes she winks at the girls on the other team to purposefully distract them as they’re serving. You don’t feel jealous though because you know as soon as the game’s over you’re going back to her place to celebrate ;)

- You feel so fucking lucky you’re dating a jock as her toned muscular arm is pumping in and out of you.

- “Fuck,, guess all that racket swinging comes in handy when I’m fucking you, hm?” She smirks, and she was actually right. She could practically finger you forever and never get tired.

- She’s a perfectionist with her playing and in bed. She’d have to make you cum at least twice before she’s satisfied.

- The next morning Ellie has to leave early for practice so she lets you stay in her room to sleep in. She texts you a WHOLE BUNCH, effectively spamming your phone and waking you up:

- She comes up to you one day out of the blue and says “Hey y/n, I’m like so serious can you hide all my stoner shit until this season is over…?” You knew she smoked but she told you she only does it when she’s off in tennis, so you’re surprised when she hands you a shoebox full of all her stuff.

- “Yeah ‘m fine. Coach has been gettin’ on to me. Jus’ more stressed out is all.” Is all she has to say when you ask about it. She runs her hands through her hair, thinking you’re frustrated with her. You’re just glad she trusts you enough to make her keep her promises to herself.

- She’d ask you what your favorite color is and get a special racket in that color for whenever you see her play. She’d say it’s her lucky racket :,)

- You were never super into sports but you loveeeee spending time with Ellie, so she decides to give you some one on one lessons.

- “Yeah, thas’ it, baby.” She’d mutter in your ear from behind you. She’s holding the racket with you and helping you swing your arms the right way.

- You guys didn’t expect to see anyone on the tennis court this early, so when other people come and Ellie recognizes them, she quickly guides you guys behind a tree.

- Your stomach is filled with butterflies as she tucks your loose hair behind your ear and kisses you !!

- You feel like a little kid playing in the woods again because now you and Ellie are sneaking around the park/tennis court trying not to be seen by the other people

- She gets really cocky sometimes and posts soft launches of you on her insta stories

- It would be a picture of you in her lap WAHH! Her tattooed hand is on your thigh with the caption “keeping me occupied”

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

[lemonlover1110]

here is the peek at my upcoming oneshot!! can't wait to share with y'all❤️ warning for revenge porn

Sukuna’s woken up by a flood of calls, a little too early for his own good. What good news can one possibly receive at four in the morning? He does know one thing though; he feels your warmth as you’re cuddled up next to him, so the news can’t be too bad. 

He’s half asleep while he puts the phone next to his ear. He doesn’t even check who’s calling, but he guesses it’s something important since they’re so persistent. He doesn’t notice that it’s a variety of people, all calling for the same thing.

“What do you want?” His annoyance translates clearly in his raspy half-asleep voice. He’s getting more irritated by the second as the other person on the line rambles about a video getting leaked. Sukuna has no idea how that ties back to him, until it hits him that he’s in the video. “What kind of video is this?”

“Uhh…” Is all Sukuna needs to hear before hanging up the phone call. He immediately rushes to open twitter, immediately met by a sight that horrifies him. He’s being intimate with a woman that’s not you– A video that’s clearly well before your time together but something that’ll get you upset nonetheless. 

Even when he’s the victim in the situation, he’s only thinking of you.

[bredstick]

Hello! I hope you are having a good day. This is the first time I'm making a request so if I write stupid things, please turn down my request. Male!reader can see curses even though he has no cursed energy. Although he is very kind and gentle looking, curses are running away from him because of the energy he radiates. He is descended from a clan that was destroyed by the Sukuna in history. The general characteristics of those coming from this clan are that although they are physically weak, they can destroy even the strongest curses with a single touch. Also, the men of this clan appear feminine in appearance and can be mistaken for a woman from afar. And the jujutsu sorcerers are unaware of the existence of any of this clan because they think they have all been destroyed. Also a member of this clan can be easily identified from their physical characteristics. So what is the reaction of Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, and Sukuna when the reader is able to heal curses that have been transformed from human into curses and destroy the bad curses without doing anything, even though he has no cursed energy at all?

Sorry if it's too long and complicated English is not my first language. Thank you!

JJK men find out you're a descendant from an extinct clan (male reader!)

Reactions from Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Sukuna

Gojo Satoru

▪︎ He didn't even know about the clan and its users until other people spoke up about you, how you were different from the others- already speculating you have connections to the clan.

▪︎ He was curious on who you were, since that's the first time he'd heard of you, so he arranged a group mission with you involved (principal was confused, why did the strongest need a companion?)

▪︎ First look at you he thought you were a woman until you spoke up on the mission, allerting him of certain dangers across the curse filled field. He was surprised, but it didn't really matter. He just wanted to see the powers you behold.

▪︎ Turns out the enemy was bigger than he thought, and wanted you to step back from it, considering your body was quite frail and you seemed weak to him- he didn't know what to do when the curse was moving in the speed of light towards you.

▪︎ He was just about to teleport you away, but you sensed a curse approaching you, and as a reflex you immediately put your hand up and touched it without seeing the said curse. You could feel it, not see it.

▪︎ Just as you touched it, it exploded without a second thought. You and Gojo just stood there in complete silence, Gojo's lips slowly forming a grin. You might become someone on his level.

"So, mystery boy, what's your name?"

Kento Nanami

▪︎ Didn't really care when he saw you around until he was on a mission with you, not even knowing you're the one everyone's been talking about

▪︎ "I'll take care of this" thinking you're still a newbie and don't know how to use your technique because he didn't sense any cursed energy within you

▪︎ TAKEN ABACK by the way you destroyed the higher rank curse so quickly- needed to register the fact that such a frail person could behold such power (he's totally not jealous)

▪︎ Is even more taken aback when you heal yourself, thinking that he's seeing things

▪︎ "So..... you've mastered your cursed technique I see.." he says after awkwardly standing next to you for who knows how long

(you're on the villain's side on these)

Suguru Geto

▪︎ He wasn't paying attention to you, thinking you were just a boring sorcerer with no power to overturn the world to what he wants to create- he did question your gender though lol

▪︎ Not until a fight with jujutsu sorcerers (including gojo's presence) have you really proved yourself worthy of his praise

▪︎ He was oh so so glad you were on his side when he saw your healing abilities- seeing Gojo's face drop in realization on who's clan you belonged to has made him thrilled

▪︎ "how about we rule the world together?" he said with that smirk of his;)

Toji Fushiguro

▪︎ "uhh.. what are you exactly?" would totally be his first words while meeting you

▪︎ he wasn't even listening to you until you mentioned your clan, which he heard of from the zen'in clan and how overpowered your clan compared to his was- which had a positive effect on him since he hated his own clan. The murmurs of "I'm glad the clan got wiped out years ago" was coursing through his mind while he snickered, and took on your offer of getting together for the destruction of the zen'in clan.

▪︎ When he saw your abilities and even saw that you and him both don't have cursed energy was a big win for him, thinking of treating you to a nice dinner after you're done with the killing (let's hope he can afford it)

▪︎ "I've been waiting for this" he says, slashing the clan's throats.

(here you're on the good side again)

Ryomen Sukuna

▪︎ Your abilities being shown to him made him go back to the good old days when he was slaughtering your kind to bits, giving him ptsd from you just showing him one of the techniques

▪︎ "How the hell did your kind come back?? I killed all of you" he says in the most disrespectful tone ever, making you rage

▪︎ he underestimates your power, forgetting how troublesome your clan was to kill- perhaps you were even stronger than them, making him wonder who taught you to perfect the techniques and how he could let someone slip away from his brutal slaughter.

▪︎ when he gets seriously injured, he curses under his breath and goes back into hiding in itadori's body (he simply cannot be asked to deal with your kind again)

▪︎ "That damn brat... I just need to consume all of the fingers so I can beat the shita outta him"

[biolumien]

Hi!! Your rooftop smoke fic with Hoshina was just superb. 😭💖

Was wondering If could request a scenario where they had been mutually pining for one another. And they'd, on more than one occasion catch each other's eyes across the room. And a handful of people from the Defense Force notices. Cause could they be more obvious?

Whether that would end up angsty or with a happy ending is up to you! I love the way you write for Hoshina. You capture him pretty perfectly haha

Stay safe and healthy!!

notes: omg... thank you for your compliments... it means smsm! uhh... well. this kinda took on a life of its own, i'm sorry. i hope you don't mind ;-;;

say it! come on, say it!

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader alternatively: romcom except then i smacked it so hard with angst at the end. sorry. word count: 2400

“you need to close your mouth when you’re staring.” you feel the ice-cold touch of a can press against your cheek, and you shriek as you stare up at–

“ah, fuck. i’m not staring, narumi,” you mutter, taking the soda can from him. narumi seemed less than convinced, his eyes barely visible from underneath his bangs. 

“o-kay. and you’re totally not ogling hoshina with googly eyes.” narumi cracks open his own soda, taking a long sip from the can. “why don’t you just date already? i’m gonna be honest, i’m sick of you looking at him like that. it’s boring, bland, predictable… fuckin’ hate that will they won’t they bullshit.” 

“i can’t,” you complain dramatically. 

hoshina, from the other side of the room, was talking to captain ashiro while examining some paperwork. occasionally, okonogi would come over, point out some new development, and there’d seem to be another heated debate between the three. you always liked seeing hoshina in his element—whether it be instructing other officers, training with his blades, or awkwardly not making eye contact with him when he spoke to you. 

“like hell you can’t!” narumi hissed, reaching out to put you in a headlock. “stop looking at him like that!” 

“like hell what? who’s looking at who?” 

hoshina had come over, staring at the two of you, right as narumi’s arm was beginning to wrap around your neck. narumi immediately flew back from you as you laughed nervously. 

“uhh, like hell i, umm…” you fumbled for an answer, staring up at hoshina nervously. why had he just come over? why was he looking at you like that? your lips quiver for a moment.

“oh, relax!” hoshina clapped you across the back, laughing. “you look so nervous! like you’ve just confessed you had some very, very personal feelings or something! that’s adorable…” 

let me die, you think furtively as hoshina’s hand brushes your shoulder. narumi’s face was pinched. 

“don’t let narumi bully you too much; he’s just a little lowlife, after all,” hoshina said with teasing venom in his voice. 

“you bitch,” narumi growled. “i have no idea how they see anything in y—” his face paled as the words left his lips, and you think you almost see god for a minute. you hide your face with your hands, waiting for hoshina’s verdict, and you swear that the next moment you get, you were going to make narumi very sorry for spilling your metaphorical, hell, call them literal at this point, guts out in the open. 

“hmm?” hoshina hums. the world fell silent—at least silent to you, in any case, your eardrums pounding in time with your heartbeat. “well—”

“vice captain hoshina!” mina ashiro’s voice was sharp and piercing. “time to go.” 

“huh?” hoshina cocks his head. “ah, of course, captain. be right there!” 

he turned to you and narumi with a small smile, one of his fangs peeking out for a moment before waving his fingers. 

“see you.” he nods his head to you specifically before he turns away. 

you wait until you are absolutely, absolutely sure he’s out of earshot before turning on narumi, throwing your soda can at his head. 

“fuck!” narumi swore. “what the fuck was that for?” 

“you idiot! why did you basically confess to him for me?!” you hiss. “i’m trying to count on you to not run your damn mouth!” 

“hoshina’s an idiot,” narumi says sullenly. “i bet he didn’t even notice.” 

[…]

the walk through the hallway was silent, up until—

“you’re red,” mina says, her hand reaching for her skirt pocket to pull out her phone. 

“stop,” hoshina’s voice is strangled, far more strangled than he’d like it to be. “no, i’m serious. no photos. you’ll need to talk to my PR agent about that.” hoshina’s ears were tinged pink, and he raised his hands to try and hide the flush. 

“hoshina,” okonogi sounded disapproving, “why don’t you just confess already? i’m getting tired watching you get so concerned over them…” 

“ha! confess,” hoshina laughs. “and what good would that do? i’m not exactly peak romance material, you know this…” 

“the only one not noticing that is you, hoshina,” mina mutters. “you get all sullen when they leave and happy when they come back, but you have to act like a… hmm… what does he act like, okonogi?” 

hoshina’s eyes went wide as okonogi hummed. 

“a cat!” okonogi declares emphatically. 

“yes. you’re right,” mina says decisively. “that’s a good fit. you act like a cat about it. you try to—”

“stop. stop it, stop it, i don’t want to hear it. stop analyzing my personality. this isn’t some kind of joke,” hoshina says, his voice sounding more flustered as he went on. “they’re never gonna say yes. it’s stupid. confessing like this… it would only be a burden on all of us.” 

mina and okonogi exchanged a look.

“besides, i’m a bad boyfriend. remember that last girl, from operations,” hoshina laughed. “broke her heart in three seconds flat.” 

“… if i remember correctly, you liked her quite a lot, though,” okonogi said hesitantly. 

“ha! so what if i did?” hoshina asked. “she only just left when i… hm.” his smile seemed to falter somewhat, but he laughed. “it’s fine. it’s fine. i’m fine.” 

behind his back, mina and okonogi exchanged another look. 

but his mind flickered back to his hand on your back, and wondered if you leaning into his touch was a fluke. 

[…]

you stare at hoshina from across the room. he’s eating by himself, half a piece of melon bread in his mouth as he stared down at some papers in his hand. you’d have asked to sit next to him, if only you were braver. but you were a coward, so here you were. you stare down at your own food, tearing off a corner of the red bean bun you were eating, popping it in your mouth. 

your crush on hoshina was about as subtle as a freight train. which is to say, you felt it coming on, and then by the time you’d fully reconciled it, you were already being run over repeatedly. it was just grappling, mostly, with how cool he was, endlessly. 

you wondered what it would be like to live under the intensity of his stare, as it enveloped you whole. 

would it be like a benevolent fire? or would he raze you so wholly that there’d be nothing left? 

you wanted to find out. you wanted to find out, but you were so scared he’d burn you before you could even get close. but what was important was that hoshina, for sure, didn’t even bother to reciprocate your feelings. that’s what you were so sure of—because why would someone like him give you the pleasure of his time? surely his time was more valuable than wasting it on a nobody like you. 

his intensity, sharpened to a fine point, was better spent figuring out how to permanently eradicate the kaiju threat altogether. 

right?

you sighed miserably. 

“now that sounds like a miserable sound to me,” hoshina’s voice rang out right next to your ear. 

you nearly jumped out of your skin as soon as you heard his voice, too focused for a second on the soft, tickling sensation of his breath against the shell of your ear. your face bloomed bright red, and you immediately backed away from him, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. 

“hoshina!” you stammer. “what—what are you doing?” 

“eating?” hoshina raises his eyebrow, a teasing smirk on his lips. “noticed you were staring. take a picture, by the way, if you want. they do last longer than the momentary glances.” he sat down next to you, continuing to eat.

so he had noticed you staring. 

“s-sorry. for staring,” you say. 

“huh? why are you sorry?” hoshina asks, cocking his head at you, one of his eyes opening a bit wider. “i don’t mind. if i minded, i woulda said something.” your face flushed a little more at his words, and you looked away as he laughed. 

“you really are cute,” he says fondly, reaching out a hand to pat your head.

… huh?

“what?” you ask weakly. 

“huh? did i say something weird?” hoshina asks, the picture perfect image of innocence—or so you’d say, if his eyes weren’t narrowed at you, and the smile on his face a little too much like a smirk, waiting for how you’d react. 

“no…? i guess? it’s just not something i thought you’d say. to me,” you say falteringly, looking away for a moment. 

“mm. i guess i should make a habit of saying it more, huh?” hoshina teases, removing his hand from your head. 

and as you fluster a little more, you curse god for your crush on soshiro hoshina. 

[…]

“you need to quit fucking around,” narumi says, pointing a dumbbell at hoshina in the training room. 

“fucking around? i’m doing nothing of the sort,” hoshina says, that mask of innocence still on his face. narumi’s brow furrows. 

“sure, and you don’t also ogle… you need to get your shit together and confess, or swear to god, i’ll kill one of you. or, hell, why don’t we just kill both of you so i don’t have to fucking look at you?” narumi scoffs, anger spiking in his voice. 

“ha, yeah, maybe if you do that i’ll finally be free from hearing your annoying, grating voice,” hoshina says, prodding narumi in the chest.

“yeah, but then you won’t confess your feelings and then i’ll have to die knowing i broke up a couple that hadn’t even gotten together,” narumi grumbles. “i’m not a monster.”

“huh?” hoshina asks.

narumi looked like he was about to blow a gasket.

“wait, so you didn’t know they reciprocate?”

“i–well, i… hoped?” hoshina says, realizing how stupid he must sound. his mind flit back to your reactions the past few days–hell, the past few weeks? maybe the past few months? “oh. shit.”

“oh. shit. indeed,” narumi mocks. “so, are you going to tell them?”

“i…” hoshina suddenly realized how terrified he was. his face paled, his hand coming up to his mouth. “i… shit. wait. this is–fuck. i…” he ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs up past his face, a shaking sigh passing his lips. “no. this is… how would i even begin to explain it? i’m not… i can’t. i’m not–i can’t be a good partner. not in this line of work. my judgement could be compromised! that wouldn’t–”

“your judgement is already compromised,” narumi says, a bared snarl-turned-smile on his lips. “you know, hoshina. this is probably the most interesting you’ve ever been. you’re always facades, niceties. pretended you were untouchable, swimming in that sea of self-loathing and ineptitude. but maybe you’re beginning to live a little, aren’t you?”

hoshina’s eyes widened.

living?

[...]

it’d always come to the worst, you thought. you coughed up a mouthful of blood as another round of rubble began to creak overhead. you tried to force your body to move, and your suit pulsed in response to your movements, attempting to close the bloody gashes across your body from the kaiju attack. 

“command, come in,” you gasped out, holding up a shaking hand to your in-ear. you winced as there was only a clicking static in response–was no one coming? were you all alone? were you going to die like this, your limbs barely even able to hold up their own weight even with most of your combat power unleashed? is this all you were good for? your knees buckled as you collapsed onto the ground, coughing out a mouthful of blood.

were you going to die like this?

you couldn’t.

you didn’t want to.

your vision swam a bit as you coughed out another mouthful of blood, your mind lingering.

hoshina had touched your back right before you’d left, a small smile crossing his face.

“don’t die,” he’d said. 

and here you were, stumbling through the rubble, hurting so badly that you might as well be dead. 

it was utterly and painfully cliche to think about letting hoshina down. you didn’t want to, and yet there was a horrifying possibility that you would. and as you buckled again, collapsing onto your knees, you coughed out another mouthful of blood.

fuck.

“command,” you repeated, in a weaker voice. “please. if someone–if anyone can hear me–i need help. suit damage is–” you cough again, wiping blood from your mouth. “--critical. please.” 

and as your vision swam, you felt a hand press against your shoulder.

“there you are.”

you blinked hard, staring up at the face of soshiro hoshina, who’d pulled his mask off, leaning down to pull you into his arms.

“hoshina,” you whisper. “i’m sorry–i shouldn’t have… i got…”

“why are you apologizing?” hoshina asks, his voice sounding more choked than you’d like it to be.

“i didn’t mean to–i didn’t mean for this to happen.” you think you’re bleeding across hoshina’s suit, across his gloves as you press your head against his shoulder. 

hoshina laughs desperately, wetly.

“you didn’t mean to–of course you didn’t mean to!” hoshina protests. “the attack was more than any of us could have predicted–of course you didn’t mean for any of this happen–i don’t want you to apologize for that.” his hand reaches up to swipe some blood away from your brow. “come on, love. i have to tell you how i feel–that bastard was right, after all. my judgement was compromised from the beginning, around you.” 

“that bastard? narumi?” you ask, coughing a bit. why did it feel so cold? your eyes fluttered for a moment,  “what does he have to do with any of this–”

“i love you,” hoshina says. “i’m sorry it took me this long to tell you. and i’m selfish, for waiting until you’re bloodied, like this, to tell you.” you didn’t like the desperate look in his eyes like he was convinced you were going to die. you leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“you bastard,” you muttered. “couldn’t you have thought up a better time and place for all of this?” 

“no,” hoshina admits. “because i’m selfish, after all.” he smiles at you, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. “come on. let’s get you to the medbay. i’m not letting you die on me yet.”

“okay,” you whispered weakly. “okay.”

[s-4pphics]

soul ties. part I (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: a product of brokenness. WORD COUNT: 13.4K WARNINGS: ellie’s a painter/art dealer, heavy angst[oc is suicidal and has dissociative episodes + abusive parents/SEXUAL ABUSE(nothing explicitly written but aluded to) + patriarchy/men being predatory/traditionalist households + mentions of cheating + alcoholism + disordered eating/self-harm(cuticle picking) + thoughts of murder + mommy issues/daddy issues + parental grief + homophobia + more patriarchy but with dykes + unhealthy relationships with sex(coping) + brief mention of masturbation + sexual tension + making out + fondling + slapping + DUBCON + just matching freaks to avoid trauma], miscommunication, just 2 socially inept crash outs lol  A/N: hellloo lol. fixed plot bc im venting… s been a very rough few months. i was convinced i lost my very acute skill so uhhh consider this a test. uhh what else… idk when i’ll be back bc im now a piano player #NEWFOUNDESCAPISM LOL.  suggestion: this technically could b read alone but if u care ab context read this first. then this. that is all LOL byeee :p hi taggies we back: @dyk3ang3l @acidblum @mellifluousgirll @elliesatchel @callmewhenyoukan @natgf123 @elliesstella @spaceforescape @floridaopal @lonelyfooryouonly @ellies-converse @amiorca @darkerstarsstuff

fuck the bitch that made this game.  dont buy his shit.

aid links from my inbox: one, two, three, four

What to do, what to do… 

Ellie is a wreck. An agitated, craving, mess. 

What to do… Love your wife, fuck the daylights out of your wife, kill your wife before she kills you… What to do… 

It can’t be that hard to hide a body. Is it still murder if it’s self-defense? Ellie’s sure the next bath you run for her will either be filled with bleach or result in her being forced underwater until she’s lifeless. There are lots of people willing to get their hands dirty for her if that’s the case. Not a trace of you or her would be left and she’d finally be able to escape with only the clothes on her back. The weightlessness in her pockets wouldn’t move her in any way. Nothing compares to freedom. What a suffocating life she lives. 

The guest room mattress becomes less and less plush every time she lays in it. The sheets are itchier and cold and she’s stuck pondering with each swirl of the ceiling fan, wet hair wrapped in a bath towel; restless, fidgety, and honey-like ache in the pit of her stomach, mind warped with lecherous thoughts of her wife that she despises but not as much, her supposed life partner and fuck, how did you two get here…

Stuck with a tension so thick it permeates your home; if you’d even call it that. You’re both successfully trapped between your own walls; Elegant windows take the place of rusted, metal bars that confine you from the life you both dreamed of before all this; one soft and doting and colorful, one where your light isn’t dulled. 

Why does she feel so guilty, suddenly? You’re not lovers, and neither in love, so why does her chest ache with every glance she steals when you’re unassuming? The pain that’s always etched on your face, and if not, in your eyes — fills her with regret. She would abandon you for days — weeks at a time, not at all concerned about what you might be experiencing to rid herself of shame. And to think that you were merely a younger version of your mother; villainous and cruel and greedy when… when you’ve barely spoken. She finds herself, unfortunately, reminiscing on how bushy-tailed you were after marriage. So eager to please and prick her mind and annoyingly mechanical. You cooked at the same time everyday. Cleaned, did both your laundry, sunbathed, swam in your pool. She hated how rehearsed your lifestyle was; it reminds her of the worst parts of her childhood. When her mother was alive. So, Ellie chose to step out on you the second you took her last name; ravaged other women, released her anger and desires on strangers when she should’ve had you beneath, above, on your knees for her. Where has that craving to harm you gone? For months, she’s ached for your suffering to mirror hers, but now… What’s happening to her? What’s happened to you? 

Ellie believes you’ve lost it, and somehow she’s found herself chasing that unforeseen part of you; unfiltered and angry and wild. This manufactured doll your mother molded you into is shattering at the core and Ellie craves to see more of you. Guilty. As hurt as you were, that night was the most alive she’s seen you be. You shouted and cried and tore at the seams, desperate for someone to hear you, and Ellie did. Loud and clear. She saw you for what you are. Mangled from the inside out, entirely hopeless. Just like she is. An unspeakable link that binds the two of you.

Soul ties. 

She shook and pleaded for you to enter the bathroom and see her battered against the shower wall with a hand between her legs and your name dripping from her lips, but the knob never twisted. Her orgasms were unsatisfactory, and she accepted with irritation that it was because you weren’t there. She ignored the throbbing between her legs and vacated the bathroom. Ellie, with legs that trembled, found you wrapped in satin and snoring. They sounded like whistles. 

She stood for a while, just watching you twitch and wiggle in your rest, eyes glazing to the space beside you that could easily fit another body. The sheets are already warm from where you lay. The two of you have never slept in the same room, let alone bed. 

Her feet carried her out. Silently left the room with an unfamiliar ache in her chest. 

Her mind made an enemy out of you because that’s what you are. When she thought her life couldn’t get any worse, you appeared and destroyed everything in her path. Left her world in ruins. Disrupted her pattern. You’re an enemy and deserve to hurt. 

Aren’t you? Don’t you? 

Everything is unclear. Ellie hasn’t been this conflicted since she was 15. She wishes she could sleep forever so she wouldn’t be forced to think. 

If she had any sense left, she would paint her agony away. In the past, her mind would shut down with every splash of color on a canvas to compensate for the darkness that conjured in her mind. She refrains from that now, though. She’s horny; scared she’ll start imagining what your pussy looks like and sketch it all over the bedroom walls. That’d be too much; a boundary that will remain untouched.

But her brain knows she’s not a good person; she can’t help but imagine how gorgeous your pussy is because you are and she’s known that since the beginning, the second she saw you drenched in white. Drenched in sorrow. 

She clutches your wedding band in her palm. 

What to do… what to do… 

Birds are artists. 

They never fail to sing every morning; sonnets aimed to awaken life as sun rays spill from behind mountains. You've always appreciated their tunes whenever you were pulled from a hollow rest, no longer surrounded by darkness. 

Maybe it was the routine your mother set for you from young. You were 9 when she first coddled your drowsiness as she shook you awake at five in the morning; the early bird catches the worm, a saying you naively assumed as preparation for the day, for your homeschooling. An energy booster, possibly. Motivation. Something to get you through. 

How stupid could a child be? 

You were 12 when your cycle started. You were 12 when you realized that your mother never envisioned actual birds and worms like you had. Your mother has games she plays and she cheats. She’s had you on a leash for the past decade; the scars around your neck are forever a reminder of the hell you’ve endured under her hand. It took no effort on her part to be uncaring of your suffering, and somehow that aches more than anything else. 

Even more than the existence of him. A demon walking.

Animals aren’t like your family. Birds aren’t. The minute specks of sunlight begin, their job starts, and they complete it happily without compensation or praise or the slightest acknowledgment. Everyone wakes, and they fly to anywhere to wake the next. 

But wealth is dirty. Wealth makes people dirty. They swindler and lie and experience life with a vacancy that’ll never be filled with anything but greed. Your mother trained you for years to accept whatever was given as long as you were taken care of. Play your part, she’d say. It took you years to learn her strategy — and unlearn yourself — but you’re here. Married. Successful by association. Rich. Unhappy. Unloved. 

Birds guided you. They never shy from their duty, and you hadn’t either… 

But you’re human. You crack and cry and scream and you hate. You despise so strongly that you lash out and everything in your path becomes victimized. Sometimes it gets to a point where you crave blood. You want to drown in it, drink it until you’re sick. Your soul is dead. Everyones’ should die with yours. 

You don’t know who should go first. Your mother, your stepfather, or your wife. 

You want to swallow Ellie whole—

“Good morning.” 

You’ve never seen Ellie not dolled up. She clearly just awakened with her wrinkled MILFS ONLY shirt and sporadic hair. Timidity doesn’t suit Ellie. You're so used to seeing her exasperated. Her weary eyes don’t meet yours. You should tell her your plans to adopt a hummingbird. Or maybe you shouldn’t. She might laugh at you.

“Hello.” 

“… Hi.” She seems like she wants to say something. You sip your coffee. 

“My dad called.” 

You hum around the rim of your mug. “Woke you up?” 

She merely shrugs. “I uh… did anyone tell you about tomorrow?” 

“Of course not.” 

You don’t expect Ellie to flinch at your tone. You weren’t that sharp, were you?

You might’ve been because she slows her speech. Like she’s approaching a wounded animal, “Dad’s hosting a dinner. Corporate bullshit but we have to go.” 

“Why.” 

She squints at you. “Why what.” 

“Why do we have to go.” Your mug lands on the table harder than expected. 

“To make mommy and daddy look good.” She sneers while approaching her seat, “Did you forget?” 

“I just thought they wouldn’t want two dykes contaminating their spaces anymore.” 

Ellie snorts. “They don’t. Companies do. Gets their cocks hard. Two gay daughters, how progressive!” She mocks and plops on the chair directly across from you, wiping at her eyes. Your throat dries when you notice her wedding band. She hardly ever wears it. You don’t know where you left yours. Since when does she care to wear it? “They’ll do anything they can to get on their good side. They’re… merging organizations or whatever the fuck he said.” 

She swallows. Shrugs uncaringly, “We going?” Her eyes watch your hands squeeze your mug. 

“Are we.” 

She regards your cup with caution. Does she think you’ll throw it? The thought nearly makes you laugh. 

“Yes.” She answers. 

“Okay.” 

Your wife finally looks up and stands, nose upturned, “Okay? That’s all you got?” 

“Yes. Okay.” You sip silently. Your foot taps on hardwood. 

“Excited to see your family? You like ‘em now?” 

Excited is laughable. 

“No, I don’t.” 

The sudden calamity from your wife confuses you. She tugs at the strands that flop on her head in agitation. They look soft as they bounce with her pacing. You’ll never feel them. Or you might later. Who knows with her. Who knows with you. 

Ellie’s still talking. Her arms flail like she’s annoyed by you. You’re not sure why. You’re following. You’re allowing her to guide. To control. That’s the entire point of this. That’s why you’re going to dinner with her. She told you to go and that’s it. 

Play your part play your part play yo—

You don’t remember much of anything; the past, the present, but you recall what Ellie sounds like when she’s angry, whether it’s at you, her father, the woman her father is fucking or married to or whatever. If you’d listen, you’ll discover what ticked her off, but your ears ring too loud. Much louder than her screaming. 

You sip your coffee silently. Ellie leaves you at the dining table with a slam of a door. 

You think it’s the first floor’s guest room. 

The sun sets. Ellie can’t remember the last time she’s been home this long. 

She hates the weekends. The gallery is never open and she can’t drown herself in deals. She hates being home when you are. Why the fuck are you always here? You don’t have friends, a job, a life outside of this goddamn house? There’s a sinking in her stomach at the thought of your isolation, but she ignores it. Tries to ignore it.

… Can’t really ignore it. How pestering. You’re a pest. 

She knows nothing about you, only bits of your past expressed through photographs at your mother’s or outbursts in your bedroom. Your stepfather is fucking creepy and your mother’s glare is killer, but that’s about it. Still, she doesn’t think she can hate your parents more than you. 

You’re so fucking weird. Just like them. Unforgiving and unchaste one day then apathetic the next. How the fuck can one communicate with a person like that? 

That feeling in her chest again. Sharp and annoying. Try try try, it says. Begs from her. 

Try and do what? Do fucking what—

It took Ellie 3 seconds to unlock the guest room door and fly down the stairs when a crash rings from the first floor. Glass clatters and you sound in pain and oh fuck did someone break in

There’s red all over the kitchen floor but it’s not blood it’s red wine. Red wine red wine it’s not blood— 

You’re on the kitchen floor surrounded by green shards and dressed so pretty. Hair coiled and free and your face is done up and you’re wearing flowers. There’s flowers all over and your skin shines and why do you have heels on like a play doll?

Ellie palms at the scattered racing of her heart. Everything’s fine, her brain blares, She tripped, that’s it. Clears her throat. Rustles her hair to appear normal. 

She’s not dead. 

“… You good?” 

An unsteady hand rises to throw her a thumbs up. Your body wobbles when you attempt to stand. Ellie ushers to the counter to slide on her slippers, tells you to stop when your palm nearly plants on a shard. 

“Move back before you hurt yourself.” Ellie takes a quick lap around the kitchen for the broom and dustpan. Finds you just as quickly so you don’t accidentally slice an artery. 

Your lashes flutter and her heart follows suit, taking in the mess. “I think I fucked up.” You croak.

Hearing you curse is always odd. She huffs, “It’s fine. Can you stand?” 

Your head shakes and your bottom lip juts. “My… my shoes…”

You slowly plop onto your bottom and rest your back against the dishwasher. You struggle to grip your buckles to pull and slide the strap and Ellie remembers why she hates heels. She sweeps the glass away from you and realizes she should’ve mopped first because the bristles are soaked and streaking the clean parts of the crystal porcelain. When was the last time she cleaned? The maids always do. Sometimes you help. 

You look stunned when Ellie moves to squat in front of you. Jumps back when she adjusts your ankle. 

Her palms hang in surrender, “I’m gonna help you. Relax. Do your knees hurt?” 

You landed right on them. They should. You don’t disarm, eyes guarded and body locked tight, but you shrug. It’s good enough for Ellie. 

She unravels the buckles around both your ankles and tosses them next to you and you just watch. Ellie’s glances are quick and flitting, but she follows the traces of her hands; the sharp inhales whenever her fingers brush against the skin of your leg. You’re not as close as you were last night but she can smell you. Her chest is throbbing. You look like you’re about to cry but you’re drunk. It’s meaningless. Drunk people cry. 

Try try try try 

“Can you stand now?” She croaks. 

It takes a second for you to register her inquiry, but you shrug, and she sighs. When Ellie stands, both her hands extend out to you, but you don’t accept them; She gets jittery under your scrutinizing gaze after nearly a minute passes. Her throat dries and her face burns when you brush her hands away; standing on your own is an unstable journey, but you do, back against the counter to stabilize yourself. You look ill. Your brain must be jumbled. 

“Can you get upstairs on your own?” 

“You talk a fucking lot. Shut up.”  

The corner of Ellie’s mouth rises, but she says nothing. Gives you space to move. 

You take one step, then two more, then your eyes shut and your throat jumps. Uh oh.

“Oh shit, come—“

Ellie guides you to the garbage can near the front of the counter, away from the glass, and you dry heave. Liquid splatters inside the can and Ellie hates this so fucking much. The sounds are enough to make her own stomach lurch. It’s been a while since she’s been around someone this drunk. 

But she holds your waist so you don’t faceplant into your own vomit. 

“Get it out,” She hums with a grimace, “You’re fine.” An I gotcha almost rolls off her tongue but she catches it. She glides a comforting hand over your curved spine because you’re drunk and you won’t remember such gestures in the morning. She prefers it that way. 

You’re not gagging anymore so Ellie removes herself from you. Until she hears a whimper. And a sob so quiet she assumes you’re trying to mask it. Drunk people cry; she’s seen it countless times. Why does that seering feeling spark in her chest for what felt like the billionth time today? Fucking try, for fucks sake! 

“Let’s… let’s get you—“

“I wish I was dead.” 

Your prayer is hollow. Not even sad despite your tears. So, so empty. Ellie’s seen this before, experienced that nothingness countless times, but despite it all, she never learned how to console. Hell, she barely knows how to self-soothe without falling victim to her dark temptations. Even her paint brushes can’t eliminate the constant ache she feels. She just watches the tremble of your shoulders from behind. 

“I really don’t wanna go tomorrow.” You whisper. 

Ellie sighs. There’s no other choice. You know the stakes; follow your families’ commands or lose everything at the drop of a hat. They’ll leave you both on the streets to rot with no remorse if they please, replace the two of you with two normal children. Het children that won’t deviate. You’re both on thin ice as it is. Mainly because of Ellie. She can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble.

“I…” 

I’ll be with you the entire time. I don’t like being around those cunts either. 

“It’ll go by quickly.” She settles. 

“I hate when p-people look at me.” 

“Me too.” 

“I wish my family loved me.” 

Ellie’s softer now. Only slightly. 

“Yeah…” 

A tug in her ribcage. Try. Please, try. 

“Me too.” 

The pounding beneath your skull wakes you quicker than the birds. You shove your face in the pillow you rest on. 

The devil tells you to check the time so you do. The bedside clock says noon, meaning a new day, meaning it’s Saturday meaning you’ll die. Maybe not physically but mentally. You’re so drained and you’ve barely opened your eyes; the idea of leaving bed alone is enough to exhaust you. Your wrists and legs ache like fucking hell on top of that. 

You make fists with both hands. Repeatedly clench and unclench. The weight is different on your wedding finger. Heavier. You haven’t seen your ring since yesterday… or a few days ago — you’re not really sure. You must’ve found it in your drunken stupor. Just when you hoped to never see it again. 

The universe will always remind you who you are. 

If you stand you’ll vomit but your phone is ringing from the drawer you stuck it in weeks ago. How is it not dead? You know your mom’s calling. You hate that she is… 

The ringing stops and you thank the heavens. 

You curse them when it starts up again. 

The drawer slides open with reluctance. The ringing sounds 20 times louder. You retrieve your device blindly and your throat snaps shut when you speak. 

“You rang.” 

“Did your… partner tell you about tonight.” 

Hard and distant. That’s how she speaks to you. Your heart cracks. 

Your mom already knows Ellie did. She loves to bother you with nonsense. You don’t think she’s ever called Ellie your wife. 

“Yes.” 

“You’re attending.” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

“Is that all.” 

“Your gown was delivered here. Come by well before 8 to get ready.” 

And she hangs up. Just like that. Always. She’s never told you to have a nice day, or to rest well, or that she loves you, at the minimum. And if she had, you don’t remember any of it. There’s a lot you force yourself to forget. 

The selfish part of you disregards the burning of your eyes to stare at your phone — low battery and… no messages. No texts, no phone calls from anyone except your mother, no likes on Instagram because your mom scared you into not making one when you were a teenager. No one cares about you. People care about your wife, though. Maybe because she’s talented; she’s certainly not nice. 

Your darkest memories are always the most prominent. 

Your phone drops to the floor and you don’t reach for it. You just pray to sleep again. 

Tonight will be interesting. 

The ride to your mother’s is silent. 

At least she chauffeured the two of you. Ellie can be scary when she drives. You’ve never been in a car with her, but she did ram into a lamppost on the sidewalk a few nights after your wedding. 

Your wife is already dressed despite the party being hours away. She sits right next to you in all black; in a trenchie and turtleneck and slacks and loafers with fur and gold jewelry. When she descended the staircase, you gawked when she wasn’t looking. So simple, but she had your heart fluttering when she’d asked, ready? You’re still in your sleep shorts, teeth unbrushed and starving. When was the last time you ate? 

What an embarrassment — you’re an embarrassment, but you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. If only newly wed you could see herself now. 

You swallow a lump when you feel eyes on the side of your face, but yours remain glued out the window. The closer you get to your mom’s, the faster your mind starts to shut down. Everything passes you by in a blur. 

By the time the gates with your father’s initials come into view, your thoughts go silent, only filled with the calming images of nature and the song of birds. Your only escapism. 

The only way you’ll make it out of here in one piece. 

Ellie! Darling! We’ve missed you! Give us a smile! 

Ellie! Ellie, look this way! 

Ellie, where’s your wife? 

She wishes she knew. You’d barely made it into your mother’s home before getting swept down the hall by 4 other people who poked at your appearance. Ellie didn’t even get to give your mom the passive, spine-chilling hi, mom like old times before another SUV came to whisk her away from that hell hole. Her dad always knows somehow. 

She hates being at your mom’s; it’s stifling and quiet and the aura is dark. Like mother, like house or whatever the fuck. 

She scowls when the bombarding questions redirect to you. Some concerning, some sarcastic, some raunchy — those get under her skin in particular — and she can’t stop fiddling with her ring. Her chest tugs tugs tugs. 

Trouble in paradise? 

You were caught leaving the bar with another woman on your arm a few weeks ago! How’d your wife react to that? 

She doesn’t know. She’s never home to see you break. 

Guilt ate at her when the door of your mother’s mansion shut behind her, but she disregards it now. You shouldn’t be forced to listen to their guised jabs; You get enough of that from everyone in your life. She hopes you’ll go through the back entrance when you arrive. 

When will you get here? 

Ellie’s never made an event appearance without you. You’d pose and fidget and display awkward affection so that they’d buy your love a little bit, then enter the gathering as two separate hearts, riddled and torn, never to cross paths until the bustle is over and it’s time to go home. 

Finally, security moves and barricades her until she gets past the 20 foot gate and treads the steps. The flashing cameras are still blinding from behind. 

The tended garden is the first thing she notices. Wide and green. The daisy and rose bushes are no longer tangled with weeds and surrounded by dead grass and gnats. How could Joelene not see that and be vengeful? Ellie and her dad may not be close anymore, but she knows him; maybe even more than he knows himself. He still misses her mom after everything, and chooses to express it through her favorite hiding spot. Keeps the flowers that bloom and trims the ones that don’t so she lives through them. Ellie hardly remembers a time when her mother wasn’t covered in dirty overalls and sunburnt. 

She manages to hold it together when the large double doors open. The violins suddenly sound like nails on wood. 

Voices fade into nothing. People are outside your car. Light hurts so terribly. 

One second you’re here, the next you’re not. Your mom and her husband sit across with twined arms and the lace from your dress is itchy and you wanna disappear. When you blink, you’re gone. You only exist on this plain if your eyes are open. 

Something hard and leather brushes against your ankle, scratches against your stockings, slow and snake-like. You know what it is, who it is, and you freeze, eyes locked onto your mother. No matter your hopelessness, there’s still a young girl in you that wishes your mother would defend, act on anger, be disgusted at minimum. At least when his crimes are done in secret you can’t blame her for not knowing. 

But you’re here and she’s here and he’s here. A shared secret between the three of you. 

His shoe doesn’t halt on your leg. Your mother never looks at you. 

Birds and songs and sonnets. You’re a bird and you can fly against the strongest winds. Music is your guide and you follow the clouds. 

Your fingers twist together in your lap and the black interior of the car glows red. If only… he’s not the only one with sick intentions. If only. 

You’re flying you’re flying you can fly and there’s someone who’ll love you gently. They’re out there somewhere and you’ll find them and they’ll find you like every trial was worth it. 

Patience. That’s all you need. Just be patient. 

The rest of the car ride is unbeknownst to you. Next thing you know, your door is being opened and two men await your entry at the glass door. 

Champagne is good. Tequila is better. The two mixed is hell. 

Ellie’s throat burns and her mind swirls but she plays it off well enough. Mingles with pensive, old bastards while their daughters’ gawk at her with bright-eyed curiosity and you haven’t arrived yet. 

She lost her dad somewhere in the night. He greeted her briefly upon her arrival, pointed out the important men of the night, called your mother a selfish bitch, then walked off with his mistress by his side. Ellie’s eyes keep meeting the back door from the living room. 

Where are you? 

“Ellie!”

She downs the rest of her chute and guards her agitation with a grin. Shakes the hand of… 

What the fuck was this dude’s name? 

“It’s an honor! Your art is incredible! I’ve truly—“

—Fucking Ronald? Reginald? … Ronald might be it—

“—Your father, ya know, he’s an interesting man, incredibly smart! I’ve never—“

Her dad gave her a run-down of the … merging or whatever the fuck but what the fuck did he say and holy shit, is she sweating? The man’s handshake threw her off, frankly; almost snapped her wrist in two. Fucking old piece of shit. More business jargon that she pretends to understand and care so much about because it’s a show after all. All cheers and stiff laughter. 

“And your wife! By God, what a looker!”

Her jaw clenches. Where are you where are you where are you

“What we’d give, I mean, c’mon!” Men that pass laugh with him and it’s taking everything in Ellie not to smash this glass over his head. One quick swing and it’s over. For him and her. How promising.

“Where is she anyway? You two didn’t come together?” 

“She um, she’s with her parents right now. They’ll be here.” She jerks her chin toward the entrance. 

“How lucky are you. Treat her like the star she is!” It looks like the shithead’s leaving, but not before taunting, “Holler when she arrives, will ya?” 

And just like that, he leaves Ellie to simmer. Three deep breaths. A man in a suit and tray filled with champagne waltzes passed her and she snags two glasses. Downs the first in one thick swallow before another clinks with hers. 

Why does everyone keep fucking with her? 

“Cheers.” 

Ellie doesn’t need to look to know who it is. She scoffs. “Sounds like you’re having fun.” 

Jolene stands next to her, shoulders slouched and dress glowing under the chandelier. She arches a dark brow, “Who wouldn’t? Men are the most entertaining when they’re on ego trips.” 

“Same goes for my dad?” She snips, and Jolene shocks her with a smile. 

“Meh.” 

“Why are you here.” 

“I just told you—“

“No, where are you here.” Ellie gestures between them, “Why’re you talking to me right now?” 

Jolene downs her drink and shrugs, “My attempts at bonding. On a scale of 1 to 10, how shit were they?” 

“900. Leave me the fuck alone.” Before Ellie can run, a hand clamps down on her wrist. 

“I know—“ The woman rushes, “I know we don’t have the best relationship, but I’m not—“

Ellie almost corrects her out of pettiness; They don’t have a relationship, period. There’s no best or worst. But her sudden desperation halts her. 

“—the enemy. There’s not a lot for us in these spaces. I just wanted to try and establish something. Anything. Between us. It can be so lonely without a real support system.”

Ellie hates the direction her heart turns her mind. Suddenly you’re there and you’re crying and clawing at your chest and Ellie just watches like she did that night. So powerless. So empty. 

But Jolene isn’t you. She chooses to be selfish. Yours comes from self preservation and nothing else. 

Ellie snatches her hand back and throws her the deadliest stare. “You don’t know shit about being lonely. You’re the one who gave up everything you had to fuck my dad when my mom wasn’t looking. How much did you care about her loneliness then? Hm?” 

The timing was perfect, really. 15 year old Ellie watched her parents get into one of their most abhorrent arguments; her dad leaves first, then her mom, then only one of them returns, and it was not her mother. Imagine her shock when a news reporter confirmed that her mother’s body had been thrown in a garbage bag and left in a dumpster to rot. It only took two weeks to mourn before he was marrying another woman. 

Nobody cared that her mother had been shot or stabbed or gutted. She was just a woman married to a successor who raised a deviant child. 

Ellie forces herself to not point fingers, though. Anyone could’ve killed her, she always reminds herself; to keep her from going fucking crazy. But timing… 

How telling is time. 

Jolene’s eyes widen and her grip weakens. Ellie takes that as an escape before she has a breakdown in front of the caviar platter. 

She barely takes a step before she collides with a body. 

Funny. 

She bumped right into a star that shines a royal blue. The woman of the hour, for sure. In her mind, at least.

“Sorry.” You whisper.

“You’re fine. All me.” Ellie says lowly as she takes you in, and you do the same to her. Shy, but yearnful glances. Glossed lips tightly sealed and brows tense. Your dress shimmers and holds you snug and she feels guilty for staring at your curvature. She’s suddenly hyper aware of the vultures that disguise themselves as men and she has an instinct to hide you. And your ring is on. The thumping in her chest picks up. Only slightly. 

“It’s great to see you again.” Jolene says shakily from beside Ellie and she almost loses it before a grating voice interrupts. 

“You, as well. And your husband is…?” 

Your mother. And her lap dog wagging his tail beside her. What a bitch. Both of them. 

Your stepdad says something and you inhale sharply and no one notices but Ellie. She studies you carefully. You look like a frightened cat with a frilled tail as he speaks. Claws out, not because you’re ferocious, but so, so scared. She glances at your stepdad; greasy smile while he ogles at Jolene; what a nasty son of a bitch. 

Ellie whispers to you, “Is everything o—“

“Joel! Man of the hour! How are—“

“Where’s the bathroom again?” You whisper back. 

Ellie takes your hand in hers and flees while the family’s distracted, leading you down a hallway that’s way too long with lights too bright. 

She gestures towards the door. “It’s… This is it. One of ‘em at least.” 

“… Thank—“

“What’s the matt—“ 

“I’m fine.” 

“You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost. Did that piece of shit say something to you?” Ellie glances to make sure no listeners are hiding in the shadows. 

The widest smile grows on your face as you laugh, hearty and loud with your head thrown back. Ellie stares in confusion. 

“Oh, Ellie! You’re so silly,” She jumps when your hands hold her cheeks. You’re fucking freezing and they tremble. Your eyes are a dark void. 

You lean in closer, lips right against her mouth and they part slightly on instinct. She’s concerned and should ask more questions, but your skin is so soft. Are you gonna kiss her, she wonders? You haven’t kissed since your wedding; your breath hits her mouth and her tongue swipes her lips. Her eyes flutter shut and she aches to touch you—

“Save a seat for me, love? Please?” 

It happens so fast; the frost of you is gone and the bathroom door slams shut while an elderly woman fondly whispers, “young love,” as she walks by. Ellie only nods with a rigid curl of her lips, throat cinched too tightly to swallow. 

You puzzle her. She’s tempted to wait for you, to ensure you make it back safely without bombardment, but then 

“Ellie! Why didn’t you call me! Your wife made it safely, I see!” 

A hand claps on her shoulder while men laugh from the side, boisterous and predatory and so wide their fangs show. Ellie’s sick and a war rages within her. 

“Your father sent me to find you! It’s time to eat!” 

She sends them a weak smile. She rushes away from the door and they follow close behind. 

Anything to lure them away from you. 

Attendees have dwindled, only Ellie and her family and you and yours and some CEOs that are really getting on her fucking nerves. But you’ve eaten, thank God. She can breathe a little. 

Only a bit, though. You’re putting on a fucking show and it’s scaring her; Even her dad seems impressed. Charmed by you. Clinking glasses and telling jokes and smiling. Did your mom hold you at gunpoint before you got here? How much did you drink? Not much from what she’s seen. 

That one fucker from earlier — Raymon or Robert or whatever the fuck — keeps leaning over the table whenever you do. Peeping at your chest, probably. She wishes these steak knives were sharper. 

“So! Our young couple,” says Old Bitch with a Combover and wiggly brows, “When are we getting those heirs?” 

You cough uncomfortably and Ellie squirms in her seat. Your mother scoffs, “Two women can’t have children—“

Said Old Bitch shrugs, “Well, not biologically—“

“My point exactl—“

Ellie’s father cuts in with a tense grin, “When they get to that point, we’ll discuss their options. There’s… many nowadays, evidently.” 

Neither you or Ellie interrupt, but she notices you’ve moved closer to her. Inched your seat a bit. You squeeze your hands so hard in your lap she’s scared they’ll shatter where they lay. You’re not smiling anymore. 

Her dad and your mom are subtle with their blows at one another; snarky with brutal stares, unremarkable to strangers, but you and Ellie know. When dinner ends, you’ll both be caught in their crossfire. 

“There’s no shame in me wanting my grandchildren to be by blood. I shouldn’t have to go shopping for an heir.” Your mother hisses. 

“Sh—“ Joel huffs with disgust, “Shopping for an heir? That’s what you think adoption entails?” 

“Does it not?” Your mother’s tone rises. 

Reggie, Rory, or Russell interjects with a dismissive wave, “C’mon, you too! No need to argue. I’m sure girls like them will be fine with obtaining children! It might be more… complicated, I will say!” 

“May I be excused?” You croak, and Ellie straightens. 

“Why? So you can wallow about dying childless?” 

The table silences. No laughter, no wittiness. Completely still. That wasn’t from your mother. Ellie doesn’t remember the last time she’s heard your stepdad speak so clearly. Her blood thrashes beneath her skin so harshly that her tongue unties. There’s a darkness in her that whispers, “grab that steak knife”. Brutalize him. Just for a second. Do it for you. 

Do it for her. 

“Go fuck yourself.” She spits. 

Your neck almost cracks with the speed you turn to her, eyes wide as the moon. Her father condemns, “Watch your mouth, Ellie.” 

“Or what, you old fuck?” 

Her heart rattles noisily in her chest; her hands shake where they rest on her lap, her cells trembling with the instinct to harm. The gaze of her father is distant and filled with inadequacy for his only line. Nothing unbeknownst to her, but there's a flash of something so deep, so forbidden for them, but she sees it every time they hold contact. Beneath all the loathing and lesions left to drain, there’s longing. An inkling of gratitude that she knows he’ll suppress until he’s buried underground. He’ll never look the same to her, and she imagines the same for him. Too many bridges burned. 

“How’d I do?” Ellie rasps to him, “Hm? The night went how you hoped?” 

Look at what you’ve done, she hopes her eyes say. Tears welt against her will. When was the last time she cried in front of him? She hadn’t even given him that honor at her mother’s funeral years ago. 

Ellie’s stiff stature nearly cracks at the light brush atop her knee. A wind catches in her throat when a pinky turns into three fingers, then five, then a palm that squeezes comfortingly, desperately. Maybe partly to keep her glued to this chair. She gulps the dryness down and a flame lights in the pit of her stomach. 

Her glance to you is brief, barely out of the corner of her eye, but you’re watching her. Intensely, and it scorches her cheeks, all the way down to her neck. Scared cat. Scared cat. Shrilled and cold and frightened to hell and she despises it. 

What changed? She’ll always wonder. That look hardly shook her a week ago and now it makes her teeth ache. 

Suddenly, it’s too warm here. 

“Get up,” Ellie rushes you. Grabs your arm and yanks you from your seat, “Not dealing with this fuckin’ bullshit tonight. We’re leaving.” 

There’s suddenly shouting from all directions of the dinner table with each step Ellie takes for you, but you never drop her hand. She clenches it tighter when you finally reach the back door. 

The door slams shut on the wreckage behind you. 

Consider plan MERGE a bust. 

Ellie’s a thief. You think. Maybe. 

Is it stealing if the car belongs to a family member? Where she snagged the keys from? You don’t remember. One second you’re at dinner, then watching the city pass you by the next. It’s silent in here. 

“Stop.” 

You slam back into your body. Still in the car. You wish you were asleep. 

“Huh?” 

Her eyes watch the road, but a hand rests on both of yours to pry them apart. 

“Stop. I hate that sound.” 

“… Wha—“

“You’re gonna rip your skin off if you don’t stop.” 

… Oh. Yeah. Bloody cuticles. It was all accidental, you swear. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Her eyes shut briefly and she sighs, sounding so worn. Exhaustion is her white flag. “Just stop.” 

“Alright.” 

“Thanks.” 

It’s quiet again. The red from the stop light reflects in the car and you’re instantly reminded of your stepfather. 

“Ellie.” 

“Hm.” 

“We should get a bird.” 

“… And do what with it.” 

You shrug, “Pet it. Feed it, too.” Sing with it, you wanted to add. Ellie would’ve probably laughed at you. 

She snickers dryly, “That’s usually what you do with a pet.” 

“I never had one.” 

The light turns green and the car revs. Your wife hums, “I had a fish once or twice.” 

“Lucky.” 

A small — very, very minuscule grin quirks Ellie’s lips and your heart hollers. For joy? In warning? 

“Not really. They kept dying so I gave up.” She snickers to herself, and you can’t help but stare. She starts talking then. Eyes gone, tension gone. She’s suddenly relaxed. 

“My mom… she, uh… loved water. Was always in it or… watching it on TV or something. She always bought fish from fucking… PetCo—“

“PetCo?” You laugh, then Ellie does. 

“Right? She’d take me and be like, “get one”. And I went home with a new fish every time.” 

“I thought you only went once or twice?” 

“… Times 100,” She giggles, “My mom lived there. She would always talk to the cats through the glass.” 

You don’t hesitate, “I wanna go.” 

“To PetCo?” 

“Yeah.” Why not? 

Everything is almost over. So, why not? 

“… K.” 

“So we’ll go?” 

“Mhm.” 

And the conversation ends. The car is silent. Suddenly tense again when you ask, 

“Do you think we’re cut off?” 

Ellie’s jaw clenches and the car is suddenly tense. Back to square one. “Possibly. Tonight was a shit show. It went by fast, at least.” 

“What’s gonna happen to me?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m…”

Alone. You’re fucking alone and know nothing about life outside of what was built around you. Without it, you’ll spiral and fail and face a dreadful reality. No more rose colored glasses even if they’re browned and wilted as is. You’ll be eaten alive by the creatures in the night without a protective border. 

But the curse will end. You won’t inherit or be forced to lie or play a game that ends in fire. Decades of legacy down the drain just like that, and by your own hand. It fascinates you, that power. A force you’ve been withheld from. 

“I don’t know.”

“Still thinking about divorce?” A void in Ellie’s tone. 

“I don’t know.” 

“They’ll never allow it, you know that, right?” 

“What if I just leave?” 

“And do what?” Her voice raises. 

“Who knows. Who cares.” 

“Please,” Ellie exasperates, “Your mom will get fucking SWAT to bring you back.” 

“What good will a corpse do for her?” 

You’ll be dead but you’ll have a bird. A colorful one. That’ll be your legacy. That’s all you need, really. Ellie doesn’t say anything. Neither do you. 

More buildings flash by and suddenly you’re home. Parked in the garage with Ellie beside you, gazing off into opaque walls. You wonder what she’s thinking. If she sees everything in black and white like you do. Maybe she’s the opposite, vision bright and full of suppressed color. She is a painter after all. 

“What’re your plans?” Ellie suddenly whispers. 

“For?” 

“Life. The future. Anything,” She pries and digs for something, “There has to be something that interests you! That gets you excited! There’s so much shit to do.” 

You shrug. Not much. Not anything. 

“I used to be excited for my wedding,” You mumble, “Like… as a kid. White dress and flowers and everyone’s just excited to be there. For love, and whatever, you know? That’s how it was in movies, at least.” It’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s off your chest. The unhealthy romanticization of the happiest day of your life ended up being just another day to honor the greed of your families. Everyone was so lifeless when they watched you and Ellie kiss. It hadn’t even lasted 3 seconds before she shoved the band on your finger with teary cheeks. Such beautiful scenery was wasted on misery. 

You look over and Ellie’s eyes are roaring, palms squeezing together in her lap while her wedding ring twists around her finger. You watch it cycle. 

“Now I…” You chuckle sadly, “I just want a bird, to be honest.” 

With your heels and purse in hand, the car door opens and you exit, forcing yourself not to peek through the windshield at Ellie again. 

The second floor, your bedroom, your bathroom, are all quiet. Did Ellie not follow you inside? For a while, you envision what it would be like if you weren’t married. If you weren’t born as you, would your world be this still? 

It haunts you in the shower. Wolffish eyes and dry hands grasping at your shoulders and waist but everything’s quiet. 

You wash your face, brush your teeth, wrap your hair alone. You wonder if anyone is actually in the house. Was Ellie a figment of your imagination? Is this one of the nights that proves she doesn’t exist and that your brain is your greatest enemy? You shove your face into the mattress before your thoughts venture. Silence rocks you to sleep, but not forgetting the taunting desire to know 

Is death this quiet? 

Your mom’s calling. 

Vibrations rattle in your bedside dresser. The sun isn’t up yet. The birds are still resting. She never calls this early… or late. Something bad must’ve happened. It takes 17 seconds for your drawer to stop shaking before it starts again. 

You can’t move to answer, though. Your body isn’t yours at the moment. Your soul will reclaim its shell soon enough. Or maybe it won’t. 

Your drawer shakes shakes shakes. Your heartbeat eventually matches the pace of its vibrations. You think it’s been 20 minutes. Maybe longer. When will the birds wake? 

Finally, the calls stop. Your eyes shut again. Instantly taken by darkness. 

You never wear normal clothes. 

Ellie’s only ever seen you in thousand dollar dresses and high heel shoes that scrape your achilles and cloth that squeezes you so tight she thinks she might explode by just looking at you. No matter how fucking good you look in them. 

So what the fuck is that? Moreso, why does she like it so much? Her cheeks are on fucking fire and her heart is trying to flee its enclosing. 

You have a t-shirt on. A simple, non-Gucci white tee that says LAS VEGAS and black shorts and a scarf on your head and socks with squirrels on them. Is this the fucking matrix? 

You never wake up this late, either. It’s 20 till 10. 

“Did my mom call you at all?” 

No… no she didn’t… Why can’t Ellie speak? She’s sitting there gaping like a fish and taking guilty glances at your nipples through your shirt. She shakes her head. You nod yours. 

“I uh…” She mumbles with a cotton mouth when you step into the kitchen, “I made coffee.” 

“I smelled it.” You serve yourself at the counter. 2 Splenda packs, no cream.

“Did your mom call you?” 

“Yes.” 

“What’d she say?” 

“I didn’t answer.” 

… Interesting. Odd. Her calls are never missed by you. 

“I hope it’s something bad.” 

Ellie swallows her sip thickly. “… Damn. Why?” 

“She deserves it.” You say calmly while stirring. “He does, too.” 

“Your dad?” 

“My stepfather,” You hiss and slam your mug on the table. Ellie flinches, “Yes.” 

Her palms raise in surrender, “Sorry.” 

“Where do you go at night?” The chair across from her scrapes on hardwood when you sit. 

Nowhere, recently. Ellie shrugs as nonchalantly as she can, “Anywhere. Wherever I want.” 

“Take me next time.” 

She pauses her sip to ogle. “Hm?” 

“Take me. I wanna see what’s fun for you.” 

Ellie huffs a shocked laugh, “No, you don’t.” 

You squint, “Yes, I do. That’s why I’m asking to see.” 

“It’s not your scene, dude, trust m—“

She jolts where she sits when a hand — your hand, soft and agile and cold, slams down on the table, rattling both your mugs and the vase that holds dead flowers, nearly shattering the glass with an accusatory finger. 

“You dunno know shit about me! I’m fucking going whether you like it or not! Whether she likes it or not, and if I have to do it myself, I fucking will, you fucking psychotic fucking bitch!” 

You rise and stomp to where she sits with a pounding heart and a lecherous swirl in her gut. You look about ready to slice her open with a blunt butter knife. 

“You treat me like fucking trash just like everyone else,” You whisper venomously, and Ellie shakes, “The least you could do is listen for once. Scared to take me to the place you cheat on me at? Don’t want me to see it? That’d be too real, huh?” 

Ellie exhales a shaky breath of your name, but your nails, cut and manicured to perfection, sink into her cheeks so tightly that she winces and blushes and her tummy twists with heat. You don’t flinch when her fingers delicately entangle around your wrist; doesn’t want you to think she’s holding you there even though she is. 

“You’re gonna show me a good time tonight. If it’s as fun as you say, that shouldn’t be an issue, right?” 

Her eyes must read yes, yes, it’s not a problem; Your grin is wild like a hyena; pretty lips swelled around pretty teeth and you always smell good. Caramelized sugar and nectar.  

“Who knows,” You purr and Ellie feels goosebumps forming, “Maybe I can meet one of your little friends.” 

She chokes around a gasp before her lips curl into a conniving grin, cheeks plush around your fingers, “Aren’t you a little hussy.” 

“Fuck you.” You shove her so hard her back collides with the seat but her eyes glow pink. She watches you leave the kitchen and stomp up the steps with a burning chest until a door slams from upstairs. She releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding, wracked and desperate. 

-

-

-

Ellie will never admit — or maybe she will, but she purposefully uses your shared bathroom to catch glimpses at you. She always expects to find you out cold and wrapped in warm blankets, chest fluttering with each twitch of your socked feet that peek from below the blankets. 

What she doesn’t expect to see, though, is your phone shattered to pieces and left to drown in the clogged sink. Right next to a weighted rubber mallet; Where’d you find that? All your pent up emotions were taken out on your device… and the counter, apparently. The marble is chipped. 

She can only laugh in astonishment. Amazement. Fear when she realizes… 

Your mom.

Did you ever answer the phone?

Another day you’ve slept away. Either you were dreaming or someone was holding you suffocatingly tight; you enjoyed it, strangely. The sun is completely gone and there’s rustling and music echoing from the bathroom. Ellie’s in there. 

All the blood rushes to your head with how quickly you sit up, but your feet carry you past your closets until the light from the room sizzles your vision. 

Your wife stands by the mirror, drying her hair with a towel with a cigarette between her fingers. The guitar synths coming from her phone are grinding in your ears. 

Is she really keeping her promise? 

Did she promise to take you? You don’t remember. 

“Hi.” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror and your spine twitches. You say nothing, so she chuffs with a teasing lift of her lips, “Chickenin’ out?”

“No.” 

“K.” 

“What do I wear?” 

She shrugs, “Whatever you want to.” She speaks around smoke and her timbre’s dry. 

“What are you wearing?” 

“Whatever I want to.” 

She must sense your skepticism because she’s suddenly reassuring, voice crackly, “You’re not under any expectations tonight. You wanted me to show you what I do for fun, and I’m gonna. You just have to do your part and enjoy it.” 

Your nails dig into your thighs while you watch her. She has her ring on and her body wash coats the room in cinnamon. With a pounding heart, your hands slowly drag up your sides, fingers dragging at the hem of your shirt. She’s not looking. 

Enjoy it…

“Did you eat today?” 

“No.” 

She gives you a look. Stern. What is she mad about? Your tummy flutters, “There’s leftovers downstairs, you can have ‘em,” She shakes her wet hair and puts on her glasses, checks her watch, checks her phone, hits her cigarette. “We’re kinda behind so you should get read—“

Enjoy it. 

Her eyes meet where your shirt drops to the floor, breasts on display while your hands inch up your legs to drag your shorts down, all while you watch her. And she watches you. It’s overwhelming, your wife as an audience while you undress. But she told you to enjoy it. Enjoy the night. Enjoy the stares. Enjoy the attention. Enjoy her, for once. It all seeps into your pores. You step out of your bottoms and peel your socks off. 

Ellie drinks you in slowly. Says nothing. Simply takes her time memorizing every line, curve, dip, scar of you. You like how ravenous she looks. The sin in her pupils only darkens when your thumbs hook in your underwear to shed them. They dangle from your index finger when you walk; You smile when her throat jumps. 

She watches your filled hand travel to her pant pocket to shove the flimsy cloth in. The muscles in her back twitch when your finger traces her spine. Ellie’s pretty, littered in cute, red and brown spots. 

“I’m gonna shower.” Your lips brush her ear, and goosebumps rise all over her arms. Her eyes flutter in a pleasant blink, nodding in understanding. 

Your wife takes her lighter and reignites your favorite candle while your water warms. How sweet of her to set the mood for you. 

Ellie finishes her cigarette while you lather, watching her through the fogged glass of the shower walls, massaging soapy hands into your breasts and your legs and everywhere. She lights another at some point, bent over the counter while she smokes, ogling you through the mirror shamelessly. You smile when it settles in your chest.

You’re gonna fuck your wife tonight. 

What a fucking oddball you are. It’s cute. A little sexy, too. Only a little, she swears. 

… Fuck. 

She waits for you on the bed, dressed and jewelried, fiddling with her watch out of nerves because what the fuck are you playing at? Whiplash; that’s what she’s had all fucking day because of you. She works in the morning, for fucks sake. 

Still…

Does she deserve this sudden… What the fuck even is this? Certainly not affection; you nearly strangled her at the dining table. Attention, possibly? Seduction? She’s wired to hell, she wants you so bad. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

She could act on her attraction, sure. She’s positive you’d allow her to take whatever she wanted because that’s what you’re trained to do; to satisfy your partner — husband, she imagines your mother grating — in any way he desires. But Ellie’s not a man, and she doesn’t want that. She needs you to love it, to crave it as much as she does. To take from her like she dreams of taking from you. Ellie needs you to batter her, and if you’d like, she’ll do the same to you. 

If only you’d give her something tangible. Teasing isn’t enough. She’s desperate to get a grasp on your headspace; she wishes she could prick and prod at your brain for a second. What an experience that would be. 

You enter the bedroom like a ghost; hair still wet and coily, dressed in all black like she is, only decorated with gloss and earrings. No heels either. Just very shimmery looking flip-flops. Ellie bites down a smile. 

“Where are we going?” 

She shrugs at your inquiry, “Somewhere really, really loud.” 

“Will people find us?” Paps, you mean. Ellie denies. 

“Not where I’m taking you.” 

“Must be secretive.” 

She tuts, “Not… well, maybe. It’s fun though. I think you’ll like it.” 

“Okay.” 

Ellie stands with her wallet and keys and kiddingly offers you an arm to hold onto. “M’lady.”

But you don’t accept it; back turned, halfway out of the room towards the stairs.

Pleasant. She doesn’t mean to smile. 

She makes sure to grab the to-go box from earlier before locking the front door behind her. 

It is very loud here. And hot. And raunchy. 

… You like that. Your mom would have a heart attack if she were to ever walk in here. 

The trip to this whatever, wherever place was pretty far. You counted every second of the nearly hour ride, mainly because Ellie’s jittery knee made you nervous. It’s smaller than you assumed, but not quaint. Not at all. There's a ruckus from the entrance to the back exit, people your age and older, screaming and shouting words that you don’t know while people pound on drums and shred on guitar. They sweat through their clothes while their makeup streaks down their faces as they make love to microphone stands. 

… Better than tea time, you suppose. How exhilarating. Your heart’s pounding like crazy.

Not much can be said between you and Ellie. You can’t hear over the bass and rumbles from the floor but she holds your hand and small purse. Guides you to a small section in the back with a bar. She hands the tender her card and… that’s it. Four clear, questionably large shots are poured and slid to her like nothing. You want all of them. 

Ellie seems so at home as she guides you, already a burning shot down, into the crowd. You’re shoved instantly by party goers, but she catches you, holds you strongly. You look at her, puzzled with shock, but she uncaringly lifts her shoulders, downs a shot, and starts thrashing. 

Your jaw slacks and lights beam and flicker at a rapid pace but you’re smiling. Your wife meshes with the scene so nicely. You wanna be like that. So you follow. You drink and jump and flail and scream your head off. 

You and your wife are synched for once. Terrible dancers. No rhythm whatsoever. Who cares who cares who cares.

You wish your mom was here to see you like this. You hope your mom’s dead so she never has to see you like this. A thought so dark shouldn’t bring you this much joy. You laugh and holler at the imagery. Blood all over the marble. Blood all over the doors of your childhood home. Blood blood blood everywhere because they deserve it. Look at what they’ve done to you. Sick evil people.

You wanna kill your stepfather. This music makes you wanna kill your stepfather. It’s gorey in itself, almost. Abborherent verbiage. You think Ellie wants to kill your stepfather, too. You should ask her later. Maybe when you're both sober. Maybe you should make your mom watch you skin him alive. Him dying would damage her more than you ever could. 

When your eyes open, Ellie’s gawking at you, seemingly surprised. Impressed? She holds your cheeks to get your attention, gesturing, asking if you want another drink. You nod and shout in her face and she laughs. Ellie holds you by the waist and guides you to the bar. The bartender must like Ellie. You leave with a full bottle this time. 

You and Ellie pass it between yourselves, the night becoming more and more broken. Touchy. Feely. Ellie rubs all over you while you pour liquor into her mouth. A bit dribbles down the sides but she doesn’t care. You don’t either. So you lick the drops from her neck like a cat with milk. Ellie stops and you stop and everything stops. It’s just the two of you, suddenly; all other patrons evaporate to nothingness. Her eyes are blown and heavy as she searches your face, and they halt their wandering at your lips. She’s thinking about it; You want her to see how bad you crave it. Even if it’s just for a second. She smiles, pleased. You shudder. 

But she doesn’t do it. She spins you so your back is against her chest, lips at your neck while she pushes her hips into your ass. She’s messy, drenching your already sweaty neck in spit. Her nails dig into the fabric of your dress, guiding your hips, swaying you on her. You follow. You follow so blindly because you like her hands on you a little too much. You drink and drink and drink. Everything feels light. Good. 

You think Ellie’s speaking to you. Or singing words in your ear. Or maybe she isn't speaking at all. You’re not sure, but your face is burning hot. She tongues at your ear and you make a noise that you can’t hear but hope she can. You need this. 

Her hands are suddenly slow where they crawl up your sides until they rest on your breasts. Your empty hand lands on one of hers to squeeze so that she can squeeze you. You feel her smiling on your skin when your jaw slacks. 

Your head turns to chase her mouth, but she does you one better. Whisks you once more so your chests smash together. She snatches the bottle from your hand, takes one last swig before passing it to eager, drunk hands that wave from behind. You gasp when her thumb catches your bottom lip, pulls it down to get your mouth open enough for her to dribble liquor into. You moan loud enough for Ellie to hear over those booming drums, swallowing down everything she gives, nails sank into her waist while her hips push into yours. When you swallow the last drops, she kisses you. Messy and hot, tongue and teeth; it gets your heart singing. Her pink muscle swirls inside of your mouth and your arms wrap around her neck, yanking her into you so no space is left. Her hands are everywhere; tangled in your hair, grabbing at your hips, your ass, your thighs. Everywhere everywhere everywhere like she can’t get enough of you. You’re overwhelmed and high out of your mind but you follow her guide. Anywhere she wants you, you are. 

Maybe you’re just as bad as she is. After everything she’s done, you should hate her. You think you do. You hate her for leaving you. You hate her for embarrassing you. Abandonment. Her only gift to you. Maybe that’s why you kiss her with such conviction. 

Her touch is passionate; strong but not forceful. She breathes you in like a rarity, something she treasures, all while she licks and tugs at you like a slut. There’s a pulse deep within you when her lips enclose around your tongue to suck it. Your thighs squeeze and she grins madly, giving you one last innocent peck before she grabs your hand to spin you. You laugh and twirl with her. 

You understand why people fall in love so fast. You hate that you’re one of them. 

Or are you simply as delusional as they come? 

You’re even more enthralling when free of restraint. 

Ellie’s drunk and sweaty and exhausted but she uses every last bit of strength to stare at you. She sits at the bar as the crowd dwindles, artist after artist, established or aspiring, all go on to perform, and you haven’t taken a break once. You simply twirl and spin and mouth incorrect lyrics with the widest smile on your face, all while Ellie brings you her drinks to finish. 

You’ve been here for hours it seems, but Ellie can’t drive. But the night is young. You certainly don’t look ready to go home. 

What more can she show you?

“Thank you all for comin’ out! Tonight was a dream—“

You’re a dream, Her chest screams. You you you you fuck—

You clap like the happiest seal on the planet before spinning around to face Ellie. It happens in flashes: you come closer and closer until you’re in front of her, warm hands on her cheeks, ears tingling when you whisper, 

“I didn’t get to meet your sluts.” 

You sound upset about it. Ellie stumbles about how they didn’t come, how they’re not here. How she doesn’t wanna see them right now and she means it all, but you don’t believe her, and her chest hurts. Guilty guilty guilty. 

“Get up.” You step away and Ellie pains to pull you back, savor the night a second longer. But she signs the receipt before following you towards the exit. The cold air feels so good. She needs water now. 

She gives you a little yank when you start wandering the opposing direction, “Come… come here. This way.” 

You grin and slur, “Where to?” 

Ellie’s brows wiggle playfully, “Gas station. You hungry?”

“…Yes.”

Ellie extends her hand for you to hold, and surprisingly, you accept. Her heart jolts to life. 

The walk is quiet. Your eyes are glued to the sky, wide and innocent; the large moon entrances you, surrounded by glittery stars. You both wobble down the sidewalk, trying to avoid bumping into pedestrians and other drunkards. She thought the rowdiness of nightlife would frighten you, but you seem drawn to the chaos.  

Soon enough, you’re both surrounded by aisles filled with chips and sodas and a fuck ton of candy. Ellie cringes at the fond stares she gives you holding 4 packs of watermelon sour patches. You’re cute as hell right now. Have you never been to a convenience store? What the fuck. 

“El! El, what the fuck! Where ya been!” 

Her sluggish brain is trying — really trying to figure out who the hell just left the staff room and is walking towards the two of you. It’s someone that knows her name or whatever shortened version they’ve created and the closer this person gets the more you shield yourself behind her fuck fuck fuck

Arms latch around her neck in a strong hug. Muscular, nice voice, smells like cherries. 

Abigail Anderson. Shoulda known. Great. 

“Jesus fuck, you smell like my dad’s liquor cabinet! We fucking missed you! We haven’t seen you in…” 

When Abby pulls back, her eyes immediately find you. Ellie steals a glance; eyes wide, soft with curiosity. They darken slightly when they lock onto Abby’s shoulders, all the way down to her arms and Ellie… why the fuck does that annoy her? 

“Who’s that,” Abby whispers suggestively and Ellie sighs. Scratches at her eye in irritation. 

“I’m her wife.” You say causally, and it shocks both of them. Abby moreso. Did Ellie never tell her? She’s sure she did. Everyone knows she’s married… right?

“Wh— wife?” Her eyes shift onto Ellie, “Bitch, you got married? What the fuc— when—“

“3 months ago.” You answer.

“Fucking — holy shit. Congrats? Uhh… sorry! Nice to meet you! You’re gorgeous, by the way,” She stutters to shake your hand, but you accept it, “I’m Abby!” 

“Hi.” You smile in delight and your shoulders relax. Abby smiles just as gently and Ellie thinks it’s time to go because you’re both getting on her nerves. 

“Alright, well, we're gonna pay, so… yeah. I’ll text you tomorrow or something. We’re tired.” 

“Mhmm,” Abby hums cockily, eyes glued to the mess Ellie made of your neck, “Looks like y’all had a great time.” 

“We did,” She confirms with pointed eyes, “See ya.” 

“Byeee.” Abby sing-songs with a chuckle before Ellie leads you towards the service counter to dump your snacks. Ellie gives the cashier a familiar nod. 

“Is she who you fuck?” 

Ellie chokes on her water and the cashier gawks at you from behind their reading glasses. You couldn’t have been any fucking louder in that moment, what the fuck.

“What—“

“Do you fuck Abby? I hope not in that bathroom,” You clumsily point to the gender neutral sign near the entrance. “I heard they’re filthy—“

Ellie whispers even though there’s no point, “Dude, are you fucking crazy—“

“… It's just a question—“

“Have a nice night.” 

The cashier rigidly hands Ellie the stuffed baggie and receipt. She snatches them before snatching you to leave. She drops your hand the second briskness surrounds you, “The fuck was that about?” Her chips are calling her. She needs a stress reliever. 

“What—“

She squeezes the bag and the pop rings like a gunshot, “Why the fuck are you asking if I fucked Abby? What the fuck—“

“She’s hot and you kinda are… to a certain degree, I guess. I just assumed.” 

Ellie’s appalled, but doesn’t have the energy to look offended. “Stop assuming, it’s… that’s fucking weird—“

You simply shove tiny watermelon slices in your mouth and steal her water to chug it. She watches you impatiently before you hand the crumpled, half-empty plastic back to her. She downs the rest and discards it some-fucking-where. 

Her thoughts are clouded. Did she fuck Abby? Are you forreal—

“I don’t care, you know.”

“About what?” 

You shrug, “If you fuck her.” 

“Please be quiet.”

“Okay.” 

You both do for a while, dead grass and Dorritos crunching around you. 

Until Ellie speaks again. 

“You’re quiet.” 

“Mhm.”

“Sleepy?”

“Nmhm.” 

Wide awake, actually. The world passes you by with each step the two of you take, swirling with bright lights and laughter. You follow Ellie closely, handfuls of candy shoved in your mouth while she munches on her chips. You never had those orange triangles before. Neither of you are in a rush to make it back to the car. Can Ellie drive in this state?

“Do you, uh, like places like that? Concerts?” 

“Yes.” You break out in a grin. 

“What else do you like?” 

“I dunno. I haven’t… experienced much.” You shrug, accidentally brushing against your wife’s shoulder. Electricity sparks near the end of your spine where a steadying hand rests. “Your friend… does she go with you? To concerts?” 

“Who?”

“Aaabby.” You tease, mocking the blonde girl from earlier, and Ellie’s expressions flattens. She's unsure why. 

“Oh, uh… yeah,” Her chip bag is suddenly very interesting. “Sometimes. I met her at one a few years back after a showcase I hosted.” 

“I like her.” She’s nice and smells nicer. You regret not shaking her seemingly strong hand a few seconds longer. Strong all over, actually. 

“… Uh huh.” 

Your brow arches at that, “Does that bother you?” 

“Why the fuck would it bother me? You can like whoever.”  

“Exactly how you like whoever, huh?” You sneer lazily, and Ellie goes stoic. And just like that, the conversation dies once more. You’re glad for it; selfishly, you’d rather refrain from telling your wife about how attractive you found her friend. She’s left you guessing under too many circumstances. Consider this a sliver of revenge. 

You both make it back to the parking lot in silence, minus Ellie’s agitated crunching. You lean against the passenger door while you watch her dig around for the keys. 

“Where to?” 

“It's almost 4 in the morning.” She hisses. 

“So?” You came home later than that for weeks. You wanna say it. You should say it. Grind your thumb deeper into that open wound, but you save it. Another day, maybe. Maybe not. 

“So we’re going home. I’m tired.” 

“Well, I’m not.” 

“Okay? Whatever, I’ll drop you off somewhere.” 

“You wouldn’t leave your poor, defenseless wife unattended, would you?” You whisper slowly, and Ellie tenses when you plant a soft hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t acknowledge you, just stares through the window behind you. You scoff and drop it by your side. Cross your arms stubbornly. 

“You’re mad because I like Abby.”

“There’s nothing for you to like! You just met her.” Her voice raises, and annoyance flares in you. 

“Exactly! I just met her, and I like her! The fuck did you think I was gonna do? Flash her right in front of the gummy worms?” 

“I don’t know! Fucking maybe!”

“So you can fuck other people but I can’t?” 

Ellie’s very close to you suddenly. Your heart jumps, “Oh, now you wanna fuck Abby? She’s the first person you’ve interacted with besides me since we got fucking married!” 

“SO?” You holler. 

“SO YOU’RE NOT FUCKING MY FRIEND! ARE YOU INSANE!” Speckles of spit land on your face and it sizzles into your pores. You might be. You fucking are. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Ellie’s forcing herself into your space, so why do you fight? Why are you hungry? 

Your palms crash into her chest and she nearly loses her balance, “I DON’T NEED PERMISSION FROM YOU! WE’LL FINALLY BE EVEN, YOU FUCKING WHORE!” 

“Yeah? Think Imma fucking whore?” Her grin is sinister, and excitement coils in your belly. Gets your fingers twitching from how hard they’re clenched. 

“Maybe I do.” Vehemence scathed your tongue. 

“You know what I think?” 

“I don’t care—“

“I think you do.” She mumbles against your cheek, “I think you’re jealous.” 

You still. Ellie’s eyes pierce through yours, burning and hot, nostrils flared: she looks like she could snap you in half. Your spine tingles with delirium. 

“You’re mad because I get to be. I can exist and fuck and party and come and go as I please and you hate it. You wish you could do what I do.” She stares like you killed her mother yourself. Strangled her with your bare hands. “I don’t have mommy and daddy breathing down my neck every 2 seconds. You want that so bad it makes you sick.” 

“So why stay?” 

It shocks her. You don’t waver; passive as usual. 

“You’re free and can do whatever you want, right? Why are you here? Go and be that. Be whoever you wanna be because you can.”

Everything will be over soon. Might as well. Ellie simply glares through you. 

Curiosity is your worst enemy. Might as well ask. 

“Why’d you defend me at dinner?” 

What does she know what does she know what does she know what

She rubs her eyes stubbornly, “Oh my fucking god, who gives a fuck!” 

“Me! I give a fuck! Why’d you do it! Why! You’ve never done it before!” 

She knows she knows she knows she knows she knows she knows

“BECAUSE FUCK HIM! FUCK EVERYBODY THAT DID THIS TO US! FUCK YOU, TOO!” 

You might cry, you might not. You’re unsure of everything and you’re angry and hurting. Ellie’s a reflection of you, and vise-versa. You hate her hate her hate her. 

Hatred. It might be the reason why kissing her feels so good. Because it shouldn’t be happening. Ellie shouldn’t have you trapped between her and her car, grinding so harshly into you that your spine bends. You shouldn’t tug at her hair to expose her neck to lick and suck and bite her neck red while she curses in your ear. 

This is the distraction you’ve been desperately searching for. To think you’d find it in your wife after all this time. 

“I’d be a whore for you,” She shamelessly seers against your throat, hands wandering to unbutton her own pants, “You know that, right?” 

… That’s cute. Makes you blush. 

“Yeah?” Her laugh is thick like syrup, “Gets you hot? Knowing how easily I’d give it up for you?” 

That sideways grin makes you tick. Your hand closes tight around her throat and she nearly bloodies her bottom lip with her fangs. Your wife looks pathetic; thumbs hooked into her pants, so ready to drop them for you in the middle of the parking lot. People are wandering about; she’s willing to fuck in front of them? 

How pretty would she look trying to be quiet for you? Nervous eyes searching for privacy, praying no one walks by and sees her on the edge with your hand down her underwear. Hopefully no one recognizes her, pulls out their phone, records the two of you. Blasts you both on social media while Ellie moans in your mouth. What would people think? Your families? How ashamed would they be? Their two girls making a mess of themselves in public. 

The thought makes you smile. Scares you. Makes you choke her harder. Her pained whine vibrates in your palm. 

“Get the fuck in the car.” 

The windows fog with the heat of your bodies; her body trapped beneath yours in the back seat that’s roomier than you anticipated. She rolls your hips on top of her, desperate and eager to rip your fucking clothes off and feel you for real. Your dress rests around your hips, your panties on display and she wishes she could see them. She only has her hands for reference, tracing over each thin seam littered with lace and patterns she tries to memorize. Your tongue belongs in her mouth. You feel so fucking good; you’re not close enough. She needs you closer. 

Her mouth chases yours when you finally separate, only connected by a thin string of saliva, but a stern hand collides with her chest to keep her flat. Her hands tickle your waist. Rests your dress even higher until she can see your belly button. 

“Wanna know a secret?” You whisper down at her, and she smirks. 

“I know you’re a virgin, baby.” She whispers giddily, and your teeth grit. A flame coils in your chest. You ignore her.

“You could’ve had me after our wedding, you know? With my face buried in the pillows and my ass in your face. I would’ve let you do whatever you wanted that night.” 

Your sudden vulgarity stuns her silent. Your wife looks like she’s imagining it; lip bruised from both your and her teeth, mind racing with filth of you in every position she can think of. She wouldn’t have been able to separate from you if that was the case. It’s one of the reasons she kept her distance; those pretty brown eyes rolled back would’ve put her underground. She’d never tell you that. 

“But no,” You say like it aches, “You wanted to go and bend over all those girls that follow you around like fucking dogs. You wanted a bitch, not a wife. Right or wrong?” 

She can barely breathe and your hand pressing on her chest isn’t helping; reduces her to sharp gasps that make her lightheaded. The more ragged they become, the harder you press. Your brow arches when she innocently bares her teeth. 

Her palms squeeze at your ass, “I thought about you the entire time—“

Your hand cracks and her head flies to the side. Right on her left cheek is the already reddening imprint of your hand. The crackles in your palm are numbed by the alcohol and your core burns at the shock on her face. She gawks off to the side, that meddling smile dropped completely, chest ragged with her breaths. 

“Ellie, put your hands down.” You spit, and they drop from you completely, palms flat on the seat beneath her. 

“You had every chance to do right by me and you wasted every single one.” You sound like you’re about to cry; Ellie’s too scared to look at you. Not the good scared that she’s felt around you this entire time, but a hollow scared. The one that freezes you. Her fight or flight is triggered. 

“I think you owe me an apology.” You whisper against her burning face before you kiss it gently. A pained groan escapes her, and you laugh. Loud, in her face. Even louder when she tries to grind her hips up into you. 

“Take us home, wife.”