#usually profile pictures or account names

[houkagokappa]

Not a day goes by without me running into homestuck somewhere

[there-isnofate-but-whatwemake]

Is it my imagination, or are there a lot of Obvious Bot Accounts showing up on Tumblr these days?

Because it seems like that's the case, and the bots are taking a leaf out of the later sections of the Evony Ad Playbook if you know what I mean.

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Dead of Night - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer stumbles upon a secret dark fantasy of reader’s and does everything he can to be the one to fulfill it.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This is the first time I’ve ever written anything with themes like this so feedback is definitely appreciated. Not proofread cuz this is long and I’m tired ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I fully understand if the themes included in this are not for some of my regular readers and I encourage you to scroll if you’re not comfortable with any of the following warnings.

TW: perv!spencer, dom!spencer, mask kink, knife play, blood, dubcon, kind of cnc but it’s emphasized repeatedly that reader initiates and is in control of what is taking place, unprotected sex, penetration, creampie, degradation (slut), pet names (doll, angel) religious imagery, gun mention, std testing mention, fem + afab reader, soulmate talk

Rating: R, 18+

——

You knew it was wrong, you’d seen just how easily Penelope was able to track someone down through their “anonymous” profile on websites just like this one, but your desires got the better of you, and you just had to try.

Your profile was nondescript, your age, a vague physical description of yourself, and a link to a meticulously detailed account of your wildest fantasies. After weeks of back and forth, chatting with a few equally nondescript profiles, you found the one that you really clicked with, the stranger you decided you’d let sneak into your window and do whatever he wanted with you. After an std panel and the agreement of your safe word, you decided to fully commit, sending this complete stranger your address and logging off for the night.

Even though you knew this was a stupid idea, you weren’t a complete idiot, you had plans in case anything went south, including placing your handgun in your bedside table for easy access if you, god-forbid, had to use it. Placing yourself in a high-risk situation was the whole point, and you couldn’t wait to see how it turned out.

You spent the remainder of your afternoon preparing, doing every grooming ritual you’d usually do before a date, but this time felt somehow more important. You didn’t even know what this guy looked like, and yet, you wanted to be the picture of beauty for him. It was silly, but you always pictured yourself the prettiest you’d ever been when you daydreamed about being ravaged by a stranger. You wanted to be completely irresistible in every way, and you were doing everything in your power to accomplish that.

As the sun finally set, your excitement levels began to rise, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your masked suitor. You opened the bedroom window just above your fire escape, the cool night air drawing goosebumps over your exposed skin, only a thin lace slip and matching panties adorning your frame. You crawled into bed, double checking your bedside drawer before pulling your comforter over your body, eagerly drifting off to sleep.

—

Spencer had been keeping a secret, one that he did not want you to know about, until today. A few weeks ago he’d stayed late to finish up some paperwork for the last case you’d been on, when his pen ran out of ink just as he was about to sign off the last document. He walked to your empty desk, reaching across it to grab a pen from the cup next to your monitor, when his arm brushed against your mouse, causing your display to light up.

He knew he shouldn’t snoop, but curiosity got the best of him, scanning through the title of each tab open on your browser until a certain website caught his eye. He went against his better judgment and clicked the tab, his jaw dropping upon viewing your profile, and with it, the graphic description of your sexual proclivities. His brain immediately cemented that information in his mind’s eye, fit to torture him for days after the encounter.

He couldn’t stop picturing himself fulfilling all of those desires for you, having to excuse himself to the bathroom several times a day to take care of the bulge in his pants just from being around you. He eventually bit the bullet, creating his own profile on the website and messaging you as an “anonymous” suitor, beyond pleased when the two of you hit it off. He felt bad not telling you, but this was a means to an end that would surely leave you both satisfied, and the devious part of him won out this time.

He did everything you asked, getting tested so he could fuck you raw, he was apprehensive about the risks of a potential pregnancy even without the fear of std transmission, but the way you begged so beautifully in your messages for him to creampie you was more than enough to convince him. The moment he got your message with your address, he went out and purchased a mask to conceal his identity just like you asked, and anxiously waited for nightfall.

—

The graze of fabric against your skin gently woke you as your bedding was pulled down off of your body, your mind clouded from the deep sleep you’d been sunk in seconds before. You rolled onto your back, starting to lift your head until a large hand clamped over your mouth, forcing your head back down onto your pillow. Your eyes widened, darting around the room before settling on the masked figure on top of you. You tried to scream against his palm, but the sound simply reverberated back against you, muffled by his strong grip.

His free hand made quick work of cutting off your slip, the thin fabric splitting easily against the blade of the knife in his grasp. You struggled underneath him, weakly pushing at his strong shoulders, feigning defense as the heartbeat in your cunt grew stronger by the second. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making you feel almost high.

“Don’t fight it.” He hushed, holding the knife flush against your neck. You slowed your movements, settling for shifting your legs against his. He removed his hand from your mouth, freeing it up to gather your hands to pin them above your head as well as give you an opportunity to use your safe-word if need be.

He trailed the knife down your body, your chest heaving with shaky breaths as the blade scratched a small cut between your breasts, warm droplets of blood forming in it’s wake. He followed the curve of your body, leaving shallow kitten scratches until he reached your hip, using the tip of the knife to carve a heart into your skin. The sting of each movement set every nerve ending in your body on fire, the wetness pooling between your thighs increasing by the second.

He pressed his thumb to the wound, smearing the blood down to the waistband of your panties, using the digit to pull the fabric before letting it snap back against your skin. You gasped, your labored breaths growing more desperate as he brought the blade to slice the fabric, exposing your embarrassingly wet cunt.

“Look at how wet you are, you love this, don’t you?” The condescension in his tone felt almost half-hearted, and the more of his voice you heard, the more familiar he started to sound, but you couldn’t quite place why. You looked down at him, watching his every move as you tried to place him.

He set the knife on the bed, using his now free hand to yank his pants down, his hard cock slapping against his thigh. Your eyes went wide at his size, looking just long and thick enough to have you a little worried about being able to take him raw, but the thought of being stretched to your limits sent another wave of arousal straight to your core and helped quell that fear ever so slightly.

“If you don’t want this, just say the word.” His words dripped from his lips like honey, sickly sweet, and in that moment you had never felt more sure of your desire for anything in your life.

—

Spencer wondered if the way he was feeling was akin to that of religious psychosis, so engulfed in your very being that he ought to worship at your altar for the rest of his life, fit to carry out any act you requested of him.

His brain kept your description of your fantasy scrolling in the back of his mind, catering to everything you had written to a T in hopes of making this a night you’d never forget. The only thing at the forefront of his thoughts, however, was the intoxicating sounds you made every time he gripped or marked your skin. Each note sought to pull his focus, threatening his plan as it tempted him to lose control all together. He couldn’t do that, his conscience too righteous in its goal to keep you as pleased as possible.

He took his time, marking you just the way you’d requested, his cock twitching with every whimper that flowed out of you until he finally reached your core, the lace of your underwear glistening under the moonlight cast through your open window from how wet you were. He wanted to sink fully into you without a care in the world, but he had to make sure this was absolutely what you wanted. He was, to your knowledge, a stranger after all, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable in any way.

—

You frantically shook your head in acknowledgment, spreading your legs wider for him, ready for this tall stranger to finally be inside of you. Your eagerness spurred him on, a surge of confidence washing over him as he let go of your wrists, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you further down the bed. He lifted your legs so your knees rested atop his shoulders, his rough movements making you gasp.

He brought his cock to your core, running the shaft through your slick folds before slapping the head against your clit a few times, the repeated hits making your hips jolt ever so slightly. He hummed low in the back of his throat, lining up his tip with your entrance before thrusting forward, bottoming out inside of you in one fell swoop.

“You’re so tight.” He grunted, one hand holding an iron grip on your thigh to hold your leg up, the other digging fingerprints into your hip. You gasped once more at the intrusion, feeling more full than ever before as he set a steady but unrelenting pace. Your gasp turned to crying moans, brows furrowed in awe at the way his cock stretched you so deliciously, prominent veins rubbing against the contours of your sensitive walls.

Each snap of his hips had his balls slapping against your ass, the lude sound mixing with his grunts and the wet squelching where your bodies met in the most intimate way, the decibel level in the room reaching an all-time high.

You bit your lip, trying to quiet yourself to at least somewhat lower the noise and not disturb your sleeping neighbors, but the absence of your desperate moans was not lost on him. His pace slowed, his left hand firmly gripping your chin to force you to look at his masked face. His eyes met yours through the thin slit in the dark fabric.

You knew those eyes, those big, soft brown irises, so comforting, yet darker than you recognized, pupils far more blown than you’d ever seen before. You knew him, but there was no way. Your mind must have been playing tricks on you, because there was no way that Spencer Reid would do anything this perverse, let alone with you.

“Louder, slut.” He squeezed your cheeks, forcing your lower lip out from under your bite.

“I-I’m not a slut.” You mumbled, barely above a whisper.

“Only a slut would leave her bedroom window open, practically begging a stranger to come in and fuck her.” This was far too brazen to be Spencer, you thought, a level of blunt confidence you’d never in a million years expect from him.

“I-I didn’t mean to.” You stuttered over your words, raising your voice in an attempt to half heartedly defend your actions.

“Well then, you should really be more careful next time.” He laughed, releasing his grip on your face before playfully slapping your cheek and increasing the pace of his thrusts, his now free hand finding your clit. His calloused thumb drew broad strokes over and over and over against your sensitive bundle of nerves, a knot tightening in your stomach as you drew closer and closer to your release. You turned your head, trying to bury your face in the pillow as you writhed underneath him, your body frantically looking for relief.

“Oh don’t be shy doll, let me see how much you’re enjoying this.” His tone was almost sing-song, clearly enjoying this just as much as you were. He pressed his body down closer to yours, almost pinning your thighs against your stomach, the change in angle forcing a borderline scream from your lungs, crying out strangled ‘uh’s with every stroke. You looked him in the eye, desperate to know if this deity above you could possibly be your nerdy coworker, and every interaction you’d had with him flashed before your eyes.

Every fleeting glance he took at your chest or your ass, the way he lingered behind you in the field, feeling his presence even when you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t think of a time he wasn’t around a corner when you turned it, always near whenever you needed his help on a case. You always secretly hoped he'd make a move sooner or later, but you never thought it would be anything like this.

He was omnipotent, knowing exactly how to make you feel things you’d never felt before, pushing your body to levels of pleasure you never thought possible. You thought you might disappear, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to make sense of everything, finally understanding why the French refer to orgasms as the little death.

Your walls fluttered around him, the sounds leaving you reduced to pathetic whimpers as your vocal chords grew strained.

“That’s it, cum on my cock, angel.” He groaned, his thrusts growing increasingly desperate. The pet name surprised you, but if he saw you as an angel, how fitting considering how godlike he felt to you in that moment. You could tell he was close, and if your orgasm was what would get him to cum inside you, then so be it. Your eyes glazed over, your hands clawing at his back as you chanted ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ like a mantra, wave after wave of euphoria washing over every nerve in your body.

—

Spencer was a man possessed, his primal urges leaving his mind completely uninhibited, so lost in your body that he thought he might need divine intervention to ever leave you.

He didn’t quite understand where the sudden dominant urge coursing through his veins had come from, but he didn’t care to dwell too much on the thought, content to fuck you into the mattress until you screamed his name.

He knew that wouldn’t happen, but he secretly hoped you’d realize who he was, wishing for nothing more than for you to want him for him. His heart felt like it may burst at the thought, the desire to be wanted as he was ever-lingering inside of it, that being the very motivation behind his lingering tendencies from the start.

As your heat contracted around him, he felt an embrace like no other, hoping the myth of twin flames to be true. If this connection wasn’t proof of it, how could he rationally explain anything? He knew the scientific reasoning behind it, but it didn’t feel like enough, such a finite explanation for a feeling so sempiternal.

He wondered if you felt the same way too, so lost in his every desire that he let himself dive into the delusion, using the pet name he wished he could call you every day for eternity.

Your chants and cries as you came set him free, his hips stuttering as he finally filled your aching cunt to the brim with his seed. He hovered above you, catching his breath, watching your expression soften as you rode out your orgasm, practically glowing.

When he finally snapped out of his lust-fueled haze, he fully remembered his role, pulling out of you and quickly scrambling to stand, fixing his pants and underwear. You had agreed to his departure after, and as badly as he wanted to hold you until you drifted off to sleep, he respected your wishes more than his wants. He walked to the window, lifting his leg to climb out of it when you cleared your throat, drawing his attention. He turned, seeing you sit up, hazy smile on your face.

“Thank you.” You sighed, and he gave a nod of acknowledgement before slipping out of the window and into the night.

—

When you awoke, you had a couple minutes of doubt in which you thought the events of the night before had all been a dream, until you moved to get out of bed and winced at sting from the shallow marks adorning your body and the dull ache between your legs. You smiled to yourself, before looking at your phone and realizing what time it was. You were going to be late, and panic set in when you realized you’d have to go to work in the makeup you’d fallen asleep in last night.

You rushed out the door, checking your makeup in a compact mirror in your car, wiping a small bit of smudged mascara off of your brow bone before walking into work.

“Fun night?” Derek quipped as you walked through the doors, always the first to poke fun at your perceived escapades.

“You could say that.” You laughed, setting your handbag on your desk before joining the team to walk to the conference room.

“What happened?” Penelope asked, almost panicked, taking your arm in her hand and pointing to the only visible cut on your body.

“Oh that’s nothing, I just scraped my arm on my car door.” You reassured, smiling at her. As much as you loved your best friend, she didn’t need to know the truth of your little white lie.

“You should really be more careful next time.” Spencer’s voice came from behind you, his hand gently resting on your hip before squeezing right where the heart shaped cut from the night before was inlaid in your skin. His words reverberated in the space between your ears as your brain processed what he’d just said.

Realization hit you like a semi truck, your lips parting in shock. Your suspicions had been correct, and you almost wanted to turn around and kiss then interrogate him right there. You couldn’t do that though, having a full work day in front of both of you.

Now you just had to figure out a time and place to broach the subject with him without completely humiliating yourself.

——

part 2 can be found here

tag list: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)

[greenmossyrock]

Fatima Rey is a 27 year old Palestinian woman currently living in the North of Gaza, with her two children and many other Palestinians.

Due to the ongoing genocide, she and her family are homeless and need money to buy a new tent, to help Fatima's brother and sister recieve medical aid and to buy food and water.

Food is very expensive in the North of Gaza currently due to it's scarcity, with one meal for Fatima and her neighbours costing between $100 - $200. They need donations urgently.

Here are some of the photos she shared with me:

Fatima spoke to me about how she helps prepare food and distribute water between the people living around her, but that because there are so little donations people are getting hungry.

When I first spoke to her a few weeks ago, she hadn't eaten in 2 weeks.

Here is the food she managed to buy with some donations:

This is a picture of her and her children from her twitter profile.

Here are the links to her gofundme and paypal.

By donating to her paypal, the money goes straight to her, whereas withdrawing money from gofundmes usually takes a few days.

These are her social media accounts. Please follow her on Twitter and boost her posts there too if you are able to:

On verification:

Fatima's gofundme has not yet been officially verified by anyone, but I have been talking with her for some time, and she definitely seems to be genuine. Her account shows none of the usual warning signs that an account is a scam. She has shared photos, which I used google Image Search for, and all that comes up is her own gofundme. Additionally, if you are still concerned, most gofundmes, including Fatima's, are donation protected, meaning that you can get your money back if anything does turn out to be a scam.

Tag your moots/friends, reblog her posts, and please donate if you can!!!!!!

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath (Steddie X Plus Size You)

"She's got a secret underneath (she's got a secret underneath) Yeah, she's his naughty little freak (yeah, she's his naughty, little freak) She likes to put on a show (she likes to put on a show) She likes when he takes control (she likes when he takes control)"

A/N: This came from utter annoyance at men online and just desperately trying to find a confident man who cares.

ENJOY!

Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, daddy kink (cause im me), blindfold, toys, voyeurism (I guess. They watch her pleasure herself on cam), dirty talk. Sub/dom dynamics, oh um age difference even though its not mentioned (guys are about mid to late 30s and Reader is in her mid to late 20s)

ANGST, Reader is assaulted by an ex (mentioned but not expanded on) boys comfort her, mentions of her wanting to be held and tired of feeling lonely, guys online try to flirt in the beginning but she shuts them down. I think that's it. Cliffhanger ending because again...Im me.

Word Count: 5555 (ooooo :P)

“I can take care of a young little thing like you. You’re perfect”

“If I’m perfect why do I need someone to take care of me?”

“Do you want to help Daddy finish, baby? My big hard cock needs some help.”

“Oof a real Daddy doesn’t need to announce how big his cock is. Try again, little boy.”

“I bet a little girl like you needs to be put in her fucking place, you stupid fucking slut. Now get naked and send me nudes or else.”

You role your eyes as you promptly block the person who sent you the message. When you signed up for this sugar baby website you were hopeful to find someone who wasn’t like the “men” you had talked to on regular dating apps. You wanted someone who knew what they were doing, confident, and could handle your sass without running. 

You had met a few who could live up to the title but none you wanted to keep around long term. 

Sliding your mouse through the images, you found a profile that intrigued you. The image attached wasn’t of one man but two and it didn’t show their faces. It wasn’t odd for the Babies to want anonymity like yourself but your profile picture at least showed all of you in your curvy glory with a mask blocking your eyes and lingerie blocking everything else. Daddies always felt the need to show off so usually their profile images accentuated their faces and/or their money.

These two, with an account named Mogul/Rockstar, were only photographed from the neck down and it was definitely a picture they took, not some professional or anything like that. The man on the left had a black, well fitted suit with his admittedly gorgeous hands holding a glass of whiskey. The man on the right was a bit less put together with torn jeans and a blue jean vest over his bare chest just barely blocking the tattoos that peaked out. You assume he must have long hair because the ends of wavy locks rested on his shoulders.

When most men reached out to you it was with some silly pick-up line or innuendo. This profile, however, simply sent you one word; “Hello.”

(8:45pm) “Hey there. Not much for words?”

(8:47pm) “We imagine you’ve heard them all. : ). “

(8:48pm) “Are you really two people? Or do you just have an extra ego?”

(8:48pm) “Oh or let me guess! Your dick is so big it counts as another person.

(8:50pm) “I mean my friend IS a big dick but lol”

(8:51pm) “Yeah, honey, it’s really two people. We like to be clear about that. Any Baby that becomes ours would be just that; ours. 

(8:53pm) “We’ve learned pretty quickly not many women feel comfortable with two Daddies which is absolutely fine and why we are up front.”

(8:54pm) “How up front are you being really when you don’t show your face?”

(8:55pm) “Hm. Not a yes girl. I like that. It’s good to ask questions. 

(8:57pm) “We do that for a couple of reasons. One being we are well known faces so we don’t want a Baby to choose us solely on that.”

(8:57pm) “Because you don’t want to be embarrassed?”

(9:00pm) “Asking questions is good. Interrupting isn’t. Don’t do it again.”

(9:01pm) “Or what?”

…

(9:08pm) “Or what, huh?”

(9:15pm) “Fuck you! Ignoring isn’t very Daddy like!”

(9:16pm) “Oh? Did little baby get her feelings hurt? We don’t ignore as punishments but you aren’t ours yet, sweetheart. If you don’t want to follow any rules that’s fine. We can just continue looking and you can be a brat with someone else.”

(9:18pm) “I’m sorry.”

(9:19pm) “What’s the other reason?”

(9:22pm) “Actually, that’s the biggest reason. Our fame gets in the way of a lot of things if you can believe it. Expectations are ruined and certain ideals are put in place.”

(9:23pm) “My reputation as a rockstar makes some ladies think I can’t be soft and I definitely can. Our image isn’t solely who we are.”

(9:25pm) “I can understand that. Being a bigger girl people think I’m either desperate or my weight becomes a fetish to them. Which, I mean, fetishes are fine but men make me feel like…it’s the ONLY reason they are sexually attracted to me.”

(9:26pm) “And not because of your personality. Yeah…”

(9:28pm) “Is that why you’re a bit of a brat? Lol need to weed out the idiots?”

(9:30pm) “Something like that. Lol.”

(9:32pm) “Baby, I think my friend and I are in agreement that we’d like to try this out if you’re willing. You don’t have to see us or do anything you don’t want. Per the anonymity that was mentioned, we aren’t going to give our names so you don’t have too either. We also won’t be showing our faces so, again, you don’t have to.”

(9:33pm) “More than anything, we just want someone to look out for and talk to. Maybe make you feel good from time to time if you let us.”

(9:35pm) “Ok, Daddy.”

(9:36pm) “Good. Good girl. : ). We can talk on here until the three of us get more comfortable and then we can give you our numbers so you can talk to us there or individually. As you can imagine, rockstar travels a lot and so do I for deals so we aren’t always together 24/7.”

(9:40pm) “Are you both friends or partners?”

(9:42pm) “Friends for sure.”

(9:43pm) “Ok, baby girl, we’ll let you go but we’ll talk to you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

(9:45pm) “Good night, Daddy.”

(9:46pm) “*Daddies”

(9:48pm) “Good night, honey.”

(9:48pm) “Sweet dreams, princess.”

As you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t help but wonder who they could be. You did some quick googling of businessmen who were friends with rockstars but that was stupid because that was a very common friendship found within industries. Rolling over, you plugged in your phone to charge it, pausing when you heard it ding.

Mogul/Rockstar deposited $300 into your account!!

Wow. No man had ever sent you that much just for an introductory conversation. Maybe because it was two of them they felt the need? As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself getting more and more curious about them, dreaming of possibilities that may come to be.

############

That first month went by a lot smoother than you expected it to when it came to this account. They were incredibly kind and genuinely seemed to care about your day and what you were up to. Any time you voiced any kind of concern, they listened and did what they could. For example, you wished you could tell who was responding when since at the moment they replied as one. A few minutes later Rockstar changed his text to be red so you knew you were talking to him. 

When it came to finances, they were more than generous, giving you a set amount of $500 at the end of each day. They never once asked for anything sexual or made innuendos about their bodies or yours. 

As the second month began however you found yourself getting antsy.

(6:42pm) “May I ask a question?”

(6:43pm) “Yeah, of course, anything, honey.”

(6:45pm) “Can we do something…I mean can you help me…”

(6:46pm) “We can help with anything, princess. You just have to ask like a big girl.”

(6:47pm) “Can you…help me cum…”

(6:47pm) “Please, Daddy.”

(6:48pm) “We can do that for you, pretty girl. If you want. You remember the rules?”

(6:48pm) “Yes, Daddy.”

(6:49pm) “You don’t even have to turn on your camera or mic or anything. You can just…watch me.”

(6:50pm) “We never do anything we don’t want to do.”

(6:51pm) “But we would love to watch you cum. Do you have toys or were you just going to use your fingers?”

(6:53pm) “I have toys, Daddy.”

(6:54pm) “I actually just got this rabbit vibrator but I have no idea how to use it.”

(6:57pm) Mogul/ Rockstar has invited you for a video chat.

Biting your bottom lip, you grab your mask and pull it over your eyes, checking your appearance in the camera box before clicking their link. The camera box was still just their image from the site which you expected but was pleasantly surprised when a husky voice flowed through your speakers. 

“Hey, honey. You don’t have to turn your mic on if you don’t want to. We just thought it would be fair since you’re about to vulnerable with us.”

You smiled as you turned on your microphone. 

“Is it vulnerable? It’s just…masturbating right?”

“I mean, are you playing with yourself on the internet for just anyone?”

The second voice that followed through sounded extremely familiar as if you heard it somewhere before. It was incredibly sexy none the less. 

“No.”

“Then I would say you’re being vulnerable, babe. Jesus, you are really beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”, you beam.

“Can we ask why shorts and an oversized shirt? Most women wear the lingerie or a bra and panties.”

“Or are totally naked.”

“I just want to be comfortable. I’m not roaming around my house in a bra and panties.”, you giggle. “I take those off as soon as I get home from work.”

“Very fair. We’ve never asked what you do. Do you feel comfortable telling us?”

“I’m a teacher. Another reason for said anonymity.”

“Again fair.”

“Um, may I ask, whose voice is whose?”

“Yeah, pretty girl. I’m the Mogul.”

“I’m the rockstar.”

Smiling, you nod but you find yourself completely unsure of how to proceed. Usually, you could play innocent and do what you needed in the bedroom but something about these men were making you…

“Honey, are we making you a little nervous?”, Mogul asked in a sweet tone. 

“Yeah a little bit. I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry, sweetheart. Can you do your Daddies a favor and show us the toy you got?”

Like a little kid in a store, your smile grew as you opened the box by your feet and produced the pink vibrator, displaying it for them to see.

“Is that your favorite kind of toy?”

“Usually men are but—” You quickly covered your mouth with your palm not meaning to let your sass slip out like that. Again, you were surprised when you heard both men laugh.

“I like that sassy attitude.”

“The confidence to.”, Mogul adds. “Don’t cover up that personality for us, baby girl. We’re big boys. We can handle it.”

“Most men can’t.”

“Most men aren’t us.”

“That’s for damn sure.”, you smirk as your thighs rub together. 

“Why don’t you take off those short for us, sweetheart?”, Rockstar suggests as you nod, rising from your chair to bring them down and toss them aside. “Good girl. Can you open your legs for us so we can see that pretty pussy?”

Licking your lips, you close your eyes as your open your legs giving them a good view. 

“Open your eyes, baby girl, and don’t move them from the camera.”, Mogul commands in a firm tone. “Jesus, man. I bet she tastes really fucking sweet.”

“And is really fucking tight. That toy is going to stretch you out I bet.”

You moan at their words as you tease your slit with the end of the vibrator.

“I wish you both were here to help me.”, you whine as you palm slides under your shirt to massage your breast. 

“Go ahead, honey. Push it into your cunt and tell us how it feels.”

Mewling, you easily guide it inside of you, the subtle vibration against your clit driving you crazy.

“Fuck, it feels so good, Daddy.”

“Yeah, princess? Fuck, I’ve never wanted to eat a pussy so bad in my life. Look at her. I just want her to ride my face till she cums over and over.”

“Fuck…yes.”

“You’d like that, baby? Make a mess all over Rockstar’s face.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Such a dirty little girl. Can you say it for us?”

“I’m…I’m a dirty girl. Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good inside of me.”

“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so fucking sexy. Make yourself cum.”

“Can I, Daddy? Please. I’m so close.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. You have our permission.”

Your body shook as you came, your hips grinding against the toy as you elongated your high. 

“Good girl, honey. Very good. Come back to us.”

“Th-thank you. Thank you.”, you grin as you bite your lip. “Wait, did you guys cum? I wanna hear it.”

“This was about you, babe. We didn’t touch ourselves.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that we’re really fucking hard though after that display.”, Rockstar laughed.

“Are you serious? You guys didn’t…at all. Most men do.”

The image in their camera box suddenly changes and their laps from the waist down come into your view. Both men were wearing shorts and you could vaguely see their bulges poking through. Their hands were gorgeous, one littered with rings that you assumed belonged to the rockstar. 

“Again…we aren’t most men.”

“Don’t make us have to remind you again.”

Nodding, you softly apologize as you lean back in your chair.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you pouting?”, Mogul asks in a tone that makes you smile. 

“Not really. I just…I wish you could hold me.”

“Yeah…yeah, princess, we wish we could to.”

“Will you ever trust me enough to show me your faces?”

You listen as they heavily sigh.

“Maybe. Let’s just take this one step at a time, ok?”

After your good nights and lying in bed alone, you don’t know why but you begin to cry. You had been alone for so long, broken hearted from the bullshit your ex put you through. You loved what the site offered but you wondered if that momentary high would be enough to sustain you. You just wanted someone who would hold you and tell you everything was alright. Someone who would take care of you and make you feel safe so you didn’t have to worry anymore about…everything. 

As your phone dinged, you glanced at the notification that illuminated your screen. 

Mogul/Rockstar deposited $2000 into your account!!

Hardening your heart, you reminded yourself that you were strong, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as you forced yourself to sleep. 

##############

(6:15pm) “Hey beautiful. What are your plans tonight? Rockstar and I were thinking maybe the three of us could have a camera date and just talk. Nothing sexual.”

(6:17pm) “You don’t have to of course.”

(6:20pm) “Sweetheart, you know how we feel about you not answering.”

(6:25pm) “Shit, you guys. I’m so sorry. I was charging my phone while I was getting ready! I actually have plans tonight.”

(6:27pm) “Ooo that sounds like fun. Spending some time with friends?”

(6:29pm) “Not exactly lol My ex actually invited me to dinner so we could talk about some things.”

(6:30pm) “You’re going on a date?”

(6:32pm) “Um, I guess you can call it that.”

(6:32pm) “Is that a problem?”

(6:33pm) “We made it clear that if you agreed to be our Baby you would be ours.”

(6:34pm) “Virtually, yes, but the information and rules you gave me didn’t say I couldn’t go out on a date. 

(6:35pm) “What. Did you think I was just going to be ok with not knowing who you two were and never having you two fuck me or hold me. 

(6:35pm) “To not go on actual dates and feel wanted.

(6:36pm) “Needed.”

(6:38pm) “Didn’t realize you needed everything spelled out for you. Relationships take time. Like you we imagine, we’ve been burned before. We don’t want another whore who’s only dating us for our money or status. We deal with fake people enough!”

(6:39pm) “We like talking to you and you’re so beautiful. We WANT to see where this goes but if you’re in that much of a rush maybe this was a bad idea.”

This Baby is currently offline. You may leave messages for her and she will get this when she logs back in!!

***

(9:32pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude has invited you for a video chat!!

(9:34pm) Mogul/Rockstar declined your invitation for a video chat.

(9: 35pm) “Please…I need you…”

(9:38pm) “Now you need us? After your date I’m thinking didn’t go well since it’s 9:30.”

(9:39pm) “Try again, little girl. We aren’t the kind of men you use whenever you feel like.”

(9:41pm) “We have feelings to.”

(9:45pm) “What? No sassy come back? Nothing sarcastic you want to say?”

(9:50pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!!

“Jesus Christ. What happened, baby?!”

When you illuminated their screen, you were a complete mess. Your hair was frayed every which way and even under the mask covering your eyes they could tell your make up was smeared from tears. Your black dress that you had worn was torn at the sleeve, hanging down as you held it together with your hand. 

“Did that fucker hurt you?”, Rockstar growled. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who to call. I’m so sorry, Daddy. I should have stayed here with you. I’m just so tired of feeling lonely. As soon as that fucker showed me even a little bit of attention I just…”

You listened as they mumbled to each other, unable to make out what they were saying as you dried your tears with your fist. 

“We’re in New York right now. Are you close to that state?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Do you trust us? Say it.”, Mogul replies sternly when you nod.

“Yes, I trust you.”

“There’s a hotel outside of the city. I’ll message you the address and room number. You follow the instructions we give you to the letter. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

***

“Hi, um, I’m checking into a room…under, um, Baby Girl.”

You cringe as you relay the information but all the young lady does behind the hotel counter is beam over at you as she types on her computer. 

“Ah and here’s your key. Do you need an escort or anything?”

“Oh, uh, no, ma’am, thank you.”

“No problem! The gentleman said he would be right there.”

You glanced around you nervously as you rode the glass elevator up to the floor your room was at. You appreciated that they didn’t make you go to some run-down Bates Motel but you were still a bit on edge. 

Heading for the door, you paused taking a deep breath before putting in the key and slowly entering the room. It was a modest little room but lived up to its five-star rating just on looks alone. Shifting your gaze, you realized quickly you were alone but noticed a note with the words “Baby Girl” on the mattress. 

Lifting it up, you found a black silk eye mask one would use for sleeping folded underneath. 

“Please place this mask over your eyes and we will be right in. 

We know it took a lot of trust for you to drive out here so we’re trying to meet you halfway.”

Taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to put the thing over your head, struggling a bit as a bruise had begun to form where your ex tugged at your dress. 

The sound of the door clicking and swinging slowly open caught your attention as you froze in place. 

“Um, f-full disclosure, my eyes are closed as well. I couldn’t get this thing further down and I could see under the—” You point at the bottom of the mask as the door closed. 

Cologne filled your nostrils as footsteps walked closer to you. 

“Is it ok if I touch you so I can fix it?”

Your head tilted to the side at the sultry, smooth voice just above you.

“Yeah…who-who is this?”

“I’m the mogul in our name. Rockstar is on his way.”

“Were you two not together?”

You feel the atmosphere shift as he kneels in front of you and his fingers gently hold your head as he adjusts the mask to be more comfortable.

“We were but he wanted to stop and grab some things in the lobby. How does that feel?”

“Better, thank you.”

He withdrawals his hands but he doesn’t move as you feel his eyes scanning you over. Braving crossing a boundary, your hands carefully reach out and find his cheeks. Taking a hold of your wrists, Mogul helps guide your movement over his fluffy hair making you smile at how soft it is. When your thumb finds his lips, he exhales heavily and his warm breath has your pussy clenching around nothing. 

Abruptly, the door beeps and opens again as the smell of cigarettes fills the room.

“Do you know how hard it is to find ice in this goddamn palace!?”

Your head tilts again as you try to follow the new voice as he moves about the room. 

“And that would be the rockstar.”, the man in front of you assures as he pats your thigh and sits beside you. As he goes to release your hand, you immediately reach for him again, afraid of being in the dark now that they were here.

“Next building you buy should be a fucking hotel so you can put things where us humans can find them.”

You hear what sounds like someone being lightly hit as everything becomes silent again. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry. My mouth tends to move before my brain does.”, he replies in your direction at a bit of a calmer register as he bounces on to the bed beside you. “God, asshole got you good, huh? Ok, this is going to be cold.”

You yelp and wince when something freezing lands on your arm. 

“I searched for like an actual icepack but I guess the 5 stars don’t include first aid.”

“Ok! I get it. You’re not used to fancy places, dude. Jesus.”

Rockstar laughs through his teeth making you smile again as your free hand reaches towards where you assume he is. Your fingers touch hair first and your eyebrows scrunch together as you realize you found the ends just above his shoulder. 

“Yeah, I, uh, wouldn’t run my fingers through that. It’s all tangled. You may get stuck and have to stay with us forever.”, he chuckles before it trails off. 

You can feel them both watching you as your palm finds his cheek and like with his friend your thumb moves along his bottom lip. They were a bit more chapped but based on the smell you assumed that was due to the cigarettes. As your hand began to travel down his neck, you paused and pulled away not wanted to make either man uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry.”, you mumble.

“What are you sorry for, honey?”

“I don’t mean to be…that much of a brat, you know. I like talking to you both to and I want to see where this goes but…I guess I’m like him sometimes.” You pause as you gesture towards the rockstar. “My mouth moves before my brain. I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my Daddies anymore.”

Both men were silent for what felt like an eternity before the ice was removed from your skin and replaced by lips. A pleasant sigh escaped you as he tenderly kissed your bruises.

“Why did you ex hurt you?”, Mogul asked.

“Because he’s a fucker.”

“Yeah, we gathered that.”, Rockstar teased as he leaned away from you but intertwined your fingers with his. 

“He, uh, took me on a date to this tacky little restaurant that I told him a million times I hate and then on the drive home he insinuated because he took me out I’d want to…you know.”, you exhale as your head hangs. “I’m just so tired of being lonely. I just want someone to take care of me. ME. Not the supposed ‘whore who needs to be put in her place’ or ‘the desperate big girl’. I’m strong and I can take care of myself. I’m just…tired.”

Fingers tenderly moved your hair behind on of your ears. 

“God, I love your attitude.”

“It’s not uncommon for us to constantly run into ‘yes’ people. It’s one of the problems we have with Babies. Always ‘Yes, Daddy.’ Or ‘Of course, Daddy.’ Sometimes we can’t tell if it’s them being genuine or pandering to us to get what they want. Which…I guess is fine but…”

“Not what we’re looking for.”

Your hands search for Mogul’s face and he grins as he leans in allowing you to touch him. When your lips find his, however, he hastily pulls back and rises to his feet. 

“Hey, no, honey. You don’t have to do that. That’s not why we came down here.”

You feel yourself start to panic, losing your bearings since you can’t see. You had gotten used to them both being next to you and when he stood up you suddenly felt lost. 

“I’m right here, princess. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, Rockstar murmurs in your ear as he squeezes your thigh.

“You don’t want to fuck me?”, you ask to the void, unsure of exactly where the other man may be. 

A deep, guttural groan echoes in front of you as you turn your head towards it.

“I’ve never wanted something or someone so bad in my life, baby, but… that’s not why we came here.”

“He doesn’t want you to feel used. Your ex tried to do that and he doesn’t want you to feel like we’re the same.”

“I don’t. I don’t feel that way at all, Daddy.” Your voice had dropped into that little girl tone as you fully allowed yourself to be vulnerable for them. “Please…”

Lips connected to yours again but the taste was different. The nicotine that lingered on his tongue mixed with the slight taste of mint toothpaste set your body on fire as it fully came to life and you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck as he gently tilted you onto your back.

The bed dipped on your other side and you disconnected from one set of lips to another. You became lost in his kisses as his tongue danced with yours and their hands roamed your skin. 

“We’re going to be gentle tonight, baby girl. Let us take care of you.”

You allowed them to undress you and waited patiently as they removed their own clothes. Lying on either side of you, they each lifted one of your legs over their hips as their lips and tongues sucked on your neck.

Rockstar’s fingers glided through your folds and you groaned loudly as he massaged circles into your clit. While running your hand through his hair, Mogul licked and sucked on one of your nipples making your hips buck as you searched for more friction. 

“Please.”

“What do you want, sweetheart? You want my fingers?”

“Yes, Daddy, please.”

His nose presses against your cheek, his mouth opening in a silent moan as he effortlessly guides two of his digits inside of your core. 

“Fuck. I was right. You are tight. Jesus, sweetheart, our cocks are going to stretch you open, baby.”

“Can…Can I have you both?”

“Can you handle that?”, Mogul asked with a slight whine of want. 

“Yeah, Daddy. I can, I promise.”

“Baby girl, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for.”, he chuckles and you listen as he sucks on what you assume is his fingers. “You may think we’re cocky but trust us we’ve earned the right to be.”

You suck in a breath as you twist your hips and feel two long thick fingers pushed into your ass as both men thrust their digits into you. 

“Oh…my…”

“Can a little girl like you handle your Daddy’s big cocks inside of you at the same time?”

Your hands cling to the man in front of you as you passionately kiss him, his tongue catching your moans as you tremble and trench his fingers as you cum. 

“Y-Yes, I can…I can handle it.”

They abruptly sit up and manhandle you around the bed, Mogul’s arms holding you tightly as he places himself on the edge of the mattress with his legs hanging off the side. Just as you had, his palm comes up to caress your face as his thumb traces your lips. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” You softly smile at the sincerity in his voice while he circles your arms around his neck. “Just hang on to Daddy, ok? We got you.”

His hair tickles your nose as he tilts his head and grips his cock between your bodies. 

“Shit, um, I almost forgot. Is it ok…I don’t think we have condoms.”

“It’s ok. I’m protected and I’m clean. You can cum inside me…if you want to…”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re going to kill us. Ok, go ahead and baby let me know when you’re ready for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

You feel his mushroom tip tease your entrance making you both moan. 

“Take your time, honey. I got you.”

As you slowly descend onto him, he sucks in a breath as your fingers thread through his hair. 

“So big. Fuck, Daddy.”

“How does she feel, man?”

“Mmpf, tight. That’s it. You’re almost there.”

When you’re fully seated on top of him, his forehead leans to rest on yours as his humid breath fans your face. The action causes you to clench around him and he grunts in pleasure.

“Hang on to me.”, he whispers as he tips back onto his hands tilting you with him. 

Rockstar spits in his palm behind you and you mewl as he rubs it between your cheeks.

“Are you ready, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”

Holding your ass open, he gradually slides into you.

“Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting… goddamn baby girl.”

Ringed fingers take hold of your bicep as both men thrust into you at the same time hitting every spot inside of you that has you melting into them. 

“Oh my God. Yes!”

“Yeah, baby? Fuck, dude. I don’t know how—mmm—how long I’m gonna last. Her ass feels so good.” A hand slaps your behind making you moan as another strong palm grips the back of your thigh guiding your movements as you bounce back into theirs. 

Lips in front of you open mouth kiss your chest up to your neck as you push them closer to your skin. 

“Please. Fuck, Daddy! M’gonna cum.”

Slamming their hips up to meet yours, your body quivers as the coil snaps.

“Atta girl, honey! Making a mess all over our cocks and coming hard like that. So fucking sexy.”

Clinging to them tightly, you allowed them to use you to chase their highs. The man behind you warms your insides first, grunting as his rhythm falters. The man in front of you soon follows thrusting his spend deep inside of you.

“We’re going to pull out, sweetheart, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy.”

After carefully removing themselves, you feel yourself being lifted into the air and spun around before being placed on soft pillows. A wet rag cleans you and you pleasantly sigh as you curl under the covers that were placed over your body. 

“Are you both going to stay?”

Cool metal touches your skin as a hand pets your head. 

“Do you want us to?”

“I promise I won’t look.”

Warmth encases you as they lay on either side, murmuring praises as you steadily fall asleep. 

#################

When you woke up the next morning you were alone, finding a note on the nightstand that said they thought it best to leave before you woke up but that the room was yours for as long as you need and to message them when you made it home. 

You did what they requested but decided to utilize the rest of your Sunday for yourself thinking about everything that happened. You heard your phone pinging but you didn’t want to talk to anyone wishing you could call in that following Monday. Unfortunately, you made a promise to a friend, you couldn’t break. 

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your colleague asks as she lightly elbows your side. 

“I’m fine. Just an interesting weekend.”

“Alright, guys so this where all the important decisions are made.”, the building tour guide obnoxiously smiled as she guided the class around the office space. “Let’s see if the boss is available.”

“Well thank you for chaperoning with me. When Mrs. Ludwig cancelled I thought I would have to reschedule.”

“No problem. I know nothing about business and economics but…”, you giggle. 

“Holy shit!”

“Mark!”, your friend shouts. “Watch your mouth! Jesus!”

“Mrs. Raymond, it’s Eddie Munson. The guitarist from Corroded Coffin!”

Turning your head in that direction, you realize two men are staring your way, one of them indeed the famous rockstar. 

Rockstar…

Blinking you tilt your head as you notice the rings on his fingers.

That voice. I knew that voice.

“It’s not uncommon for us to see Mr. Munson around here. Him and Mr. Harrington have been friends for a long time. Right, sir?”, the tour guide asks.

“Steve Harrington? The business mogul?”

Mogul…

“See, Y/N. You know some things about the business world.”, your friend grins. 

As the world around you seems to slow down to a halt, you three continue to stare at each other as you figure out where to go from here.

[elsweetheart]

what you heard : part one

synopsis: you start to develop feelings for your boyfriends dealer.

♪ what you heard — sonder ♪

cw: reader is a bisexual woman dating a man, brief descriptions of having sex with a man, weed, alcohol, ellie’s sexual thoughts, blink and you miss it mention of throwing up, a man being really mean and a bad boyfriend, gay girl drama, ellie is kind of a homewrecker but reader doesn’t technically cheat, but mentions of it. kind of angsty at times? a little?

an: whew this is kinda lengthy !! idk how many words so… don’t ask me :( i hope you all enjoy it! i’ll start writing part two asap!

Ellie didn’t hate any of her customers, no. That would be bad for business. She just simply… preferred some over the others. Louis was one of those customers that she wouldn’t exactly reserve her best weed for. Not originally, at least. He was like a lot of the other guys on campus, average. Brown hair with the same old outfits, love of sports, and friend group. She could find one hundred of him. She kept a pretty exclusive clients list, not wanting to overwhelm herself with business whilst she’s really trying this year to stay on top of her studies. He wasn’t the most polite, and he was always showing up without texting first — but he paid, and that was good enough to keep him on as a customer.

Alright, maybe that wasn’t really the reason Ellie kept him on as a customer.

She always liked to check out the social media accounts of the people she sold to, try and figure out what kind of person they were, who they knew, and if they seemed like the type to give her up if a cop came knocking. Also, simply put — the girl was nosy. Don’t let her nonchalant demeanour fool you, her Insta-stalking skills rivalled the FBI. She knew she probably shouldn’t, and she did feel a little weird doing it — scrolling on her bed one evening in a hoodie and basketball shorts, she typed in Louis’ name to the Instagram search bar.

He had one picture up of you, the rest were pictures of him and his friends at parties. Real classy, she thought. She clicked the picture, wondering what kind of girl would have to be desperate enough to go out with a guy this… meh, and oh… Oh. You were smoking hot. It was a halloween throwback, a basic couple costume with Louis dressed as the devil and you, ironically enough dressed as an angel. He kept his sweaty pink hand on the curve of your ass as the two of you laughed. She wondered what was funny. He got lucky, she thought. Very lucky.

Ellie tapped you, and a tag emerged on the screen with your name. Pretty name, of course. Private account — much to her disappointment.

It would be totally inappropriate to follow you, right? Her customers girlfriend. Ellie clicked her own profile, gazing at it thoughtfully. Her profile picture was a black screen, and she had zero pictures up on her account. She had a considerable amount of followers, given her reputation but she didn’t follow many back — just a few very loyal customers, and her best friends Jesse and Dina. It would be weird to follow you right? Yes. Very weird, Ellie. She closed out the app, and pretty much forgot about it.

It was always the same exchange with Louis. He turned up, either unannounced or 2 hours late — burp, demand weed whilst barely sparing Ellie a glance or a thank you, and then head out. She didn’t always mind — not being a huge fan of small talk anyway, though she could do without the burp. He’d had texted earlier in the day, asking — no, telling Ellie that he would be passing by to pick up his usual ‘at some point’. A quiet knock rapt at the door around 02:23PM. Ellie swung the door open, coming face to face with you.

“Hi… Ellie?” You smiled. Hopeful, sweet, even prettier in person. You were wearing a little sundress with the cheap thin material that hugged every curve on your body, and if she stared a little longer like she wanted to she’d start to border on creepy. Ellie cleared her throat, fighting out a greeting and praying it would come out relatively normal.

“Yeah.” Was what she landed on. Whatever, play it cool. Pretend you didn’t try and stalk her Instagram.

“Louis isn’t coming, the weed is for me and he told me where to buy from, so… hi.” You grinned before telling her your name like she didn’t already know it.

“Hey. I’m Ellie.” And with that, she stepped aside and let you in.

It was like you brought the sunshine in from outside with you, because as soon as you stepped into her room Ellie felt too warm in her grey hoodie. She pushed the sleeves up as your eyes flickered around her dorm, realised she felt stupid and pushed them back down.

“How much you want?” She was pulling out the metal box from her drawer, glancing up at you as your brows furrowed unsurely — thinking as you tugged at your glossed lip. Ellie tried not to stare.

“Uh—” You breathed, and it relaxed Ellie slightly to see that you seemed more nervous than she did somewhat— just for a different reason. “Louis told me to just ask for what he usually gets? I’m sorry, I’ve never bought my own weed before.” You cringed, and then cringed again at the word choice. Ellie smiled fade into a soft chuckle with a nod that said ‘I bet you haven’t.’ She should have guessed, when did pretty girls ever buy their own weed?

“You’re good. I know what his usual is.” Ellie reassured, digging around in the nuggets. She pulled a couple out, placing them down on her scale before bagging them up. You held out your hand unsurely, and she pressed the plastic baggie into it. Your mouth opened to say something, and Ellie’s hand froze above yours as she watched you — trying to work out what might be wrong. “What? Is this not…”

“No, sorry. It’s perfect. I assume. I’m not sure. I just… I don’t know how to roll these. Lou told me to buy my own weed seeing as I am the one who wanted to smoke and — it’s okay. I’ll just Google it.” You shook your head, feeling your cheeks turn warm at your own rambling. Ellie stopped you as you went to shove the baggie into her pocket with a calm smile, raising her eyebrows as if to say ‘Hey, it’s okay. Chill.’

“I can roll it for you. It’s no biggie.”

You visibly relaxed, and Ellie could tell because of the way your chest collapsed slightly, not suffocating your tits against the material of your dress anymore which she couldn’t help but glance at as you looked away. “Thanks. Sorry.” You guffawed, your embarrassment seeming a little relieved as you stepped back, leaning against her desk as she pulled her chair and tray out to do the rolling.

“Louis not buying your weed for you?” She conversed, eyes on the rolling paper as she carefully packed it. Your head snapped towards her, realising that you were the one who blabbed that. Her eyes glanced up at you briefly when you didn’t immediately answer.

“No. It’s… okay though.” You justified, a mass of shame swirling just below your rib cage. You didn’t wanna talk shit about your boyfriend to a stranger, even if the stranger had a totally welcoming vibe about her — and your boyfriend was cheap. Ellie tsk’d lightheartedly, shaking her head. “Against the rules, man.” She comment quietly.

“What rules?” You furrowed your brows defensively as she continued packing.

“You don’t let your girl buy her own weed?” She repeat obviously. Something about the way she said it made the embarrassment in your stomach dissipate into butterflies, which widened your eyes slightly at the disloyal feeling.

“Oh.”

Silence for a beat or two as Ellie concentrate. You notice the lesbian flag on her pinboard.

“It’ll probably just be me and my friends that smoke it anyway. The weathers nice so we’ll be at one of those frat pool parties… You don’t go to those?” You tilt your head, and her eyes lingered on you as you did so at the sugary sweetness in your gesture. God, you made her teeth hurt.

“Nah. I hear those things get weird and horny. Straight people… no offence.” She glances towards you once more, the ‘no offence’ holding little to no weight. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to give a shit about offence, anyways.

“I’m bisexual, but I understand.” You giggle, pushing yourself back to sit more on her desk, swinging your legs as you watch her roll. Her fingers froze for just a moment, before she continued rolling.

“Oh yeah?” She conversed, absolutely despising how a flame of hope flickered in her chest. Nope. Not doing this again.

“Yeah, actually I…” You chuckled. “I started college with the hopes of finding a girlfriend. Things just… didn’t end up that way I guess.” You shrugged, and you seemed happy enough but Ellie could sense the disappointment buried deep.

“Huh.” Ellie let out as she licked the rolling paper, firmly closing it up. She kind of hoped you were watching her as she did so. You weren’t. “You know if you squint really hard Louis could be a lesbian.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Nope.” Ellie pushed her chair back, standing. You chuckled and she smirked, pushing the two pre rolls she’d made into a bigger baggie and then presenting them to you. “This gonna be enough?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a total lightweight.” You giggled girlishly and she nodded, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she watched you fish around in your purse, unzipping an inside pocket to stuff the rolls inside.

“Cute.” She let slip with a smile, and your heart fluttered a little. You berated yourself for that silently.

“What extra do I owe you? Do you charge for rolling or… I don’t know how this usually works.” You pulled out your pink zip up wallet, the zip a glittery jewel between your fingers.

“Nah. No extra charge.” She held her hands up and you raised your eyebrows in surprise. That was a lie. She did usually charge extra for that, but one thing about Ellie was that she was a sucker for the pretty girl discount.

“Really?” And out came the doe eyes, your dark heavy eyelashes weighty above your pretty eyes as you looked up at her in awe. It was Ellie’s hearts turn to flutter.

“Really.” She smirked, not breaking eye contact (much to her surprise) as she pinched the cash payment from you between her pointer and middle finger knuckles, only swallowing down the giddiness when your fingers brushed hers. You grinned, zipping your wallet back up and tucking it away, feet tapping on the floor a little like you just couldn’t contain your excitement (Which made Ellie want to squeeze you.)

“I know you said it’s not your thing, but you should come to one of the pool parties. Most of the time the people there are cool. It’ll be good for business.” You wiggled your eyebrows which made Ellie’s smile uncontainable, teeth actually on display now which she honestly never did. No one was ever funny or cute enough.

“Maybe.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, walking you towards her door.

“They happen every weekend. Would be cool to see you there.” You fixed your bag over your shoulder before turning back to her. “Nice to meet you, Ellie. You’ll be seeing more of me.” You nodded formally, and the auburn haired girl tore her eyes away from the visible band of your underwear through the material of the dress when you looked back at her, muttering a “Good.”

Ellie always came away from these kind of things wishing she said more. She knew you had a boyfriend, but something about you seemed more curious. Like you weren’t totally against the idea of flirting back. Maybe it was all in her head because of the stupid crush she’d already developed. She didn’t understand it, how could someone like you feel fulfilled by someone like him. Ellie would never let you pay for your own weed, she’d treat you right. She had the means to be able to spoil you, which she didn’t need proof to know that Louis didn’t. Hell, he couldn’t even pay for his girls weed — Ellie knew stingy when she saw it. He probably wasn’t even making you cum. Not like Ellie could anyway, but then again who could? She’d like to think she had a gift — but maybe it was a guitarist-fingers thing, and years of deftly rolling tight joints.

Ellie shook her head free of the thought — sure she was a little grey-moralled — but thinking about finger fucking one of your customers girlfriends on a sunny afternoon felt a little wrong even for her. She was heading off to meet Dina to exchange notes for a class she missed, again just about willing herself to stay focused this semester. The two of them chat over coffee, the notes barely touched as the two friends joked around. When a pensive silence filled the space between them, Ellie spoke up — picking at a hangnail in a way she hoped was casual.

“You ever been to those campus pool parties? The ones at that douchey frat house?” She shrugged, glancing up at her darker haired friend.

“Uh, yeah. Like once or twice.” Dina frowned before snickering, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “What, you interested? You don’t even enjoy regular parties, hermit.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped slightly in offence, letting out a scoff before taking a sip of her coffee — still scalding hot on her tongue. “Excuse me. I’d be there strictly on business. I heard it’s… I was told I should go.” She explained. Dina’s smirk deepened, eyes lowering into slits.

“Who is she?”

“Why do you assume this is about a girl?” She rolled her jewelled eyes, before glancing around the cafe just incase anyone was listening to her pathetic segue into talking about you.

“Because last time I suggested you come with me and Jesse you nearly threw a textbook at my head.” Dina argued, making Ellie sit back in her seat, looking away in defeat as she crossed her arms over her light grey hoodie.

“She’s got a boyfriend. So it doesn’t matter. Just said it would be good for business and… the customer is always right, so I’ve been told.” Ellie rushed out, Dina’s shoulders dropping with a pitying look.

“Oh Ellie. Why put yourself through that?”

“She’s bi — okay stop. This isn’t about her. I was just asking. Fuckin’… forget it.” Ellie flipped the page of her notes now, going to scribble down what Dina had written to get her mind off the conversation.

“Alright, alright.” Her friends held up her hands. “Defensive.”

Ellie didn’t see Louis much from that point on. Same time, every week — you would be on her doorstep. Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just out of convenience, or maybe you had wanted to see her. You had the same spritely, sunshine attitude each time you stepped into her dorm — lighting it up with your smile and your pretty dresses. The auburn haired dealers heart was beginning to ache in a painfully familiar way. An unrequited crush, a girl she couldn’t have. She wished she could say this was the first time she’d crushed on a girl with a boyfriend — but that would be a lie.

Each time you left, the giddiness would fade out into a prickly, warm and uncomfortable anger settling in at the pit of her stomach. Occasionally, you’d let slip the way Louis treat you — and if you didn’t say it, she could tell by the look on your face when his name would come up. Your classes were stressing you out, hence needing her weed to unwind in the first place, and your boyfriend was doing nothing to ease your anxiety, instead choosing to go out and get wasted with his friends each night. You deserved better, and she knew it wasn’t her place to say but shit, it was killing her. You were killing her. She could treat you better.

From outside the frat house, she could hear music, laughter, and water splashing from down the street. Ellie stood with Dina and Jesse, already regretting her decision.

“Fuck this. I’m turning around.” Ellie attempted to swivel, but Jesse grabbed her arm.

“No you’re not. You’re here to sell, remember? Got a friend with money, said he’d pay you good.” He gave her a light shove towards the door, Dina rolling her eyes at the two’s antics. Ellie felt overdressed, wearing her short sleeved blue worn denim shirt unbuttoned over a wife beater and shorts with her Converse, pockets stuffed with pre-rolls gifting her that usual marijuana infused smell that followed her around that said ‘Hey everyone! I’m a dealer!’ Upon stepping out into the backyard, it was clear what kind of party it was. The sun was still shining, and people seemed pretty drunk already — jumping off the low roof and into the pool, girls on the outskirts squealing in their bikinis. The floor was practically vibrating with the bass from a Drake song and the sun was sizzling the back of Ellie’s neck — recipe for a headache, she thought. She’d sell her shit, and get out.

She knew you’d be here. In the back of her mind she knew. And yet, her heart still damn near thudded out her chest when you were suddenly right in front of her, arms extended with a big toothy grin. Ellie had almost panicked, not ready for the confrontation. She hadn’t even gotten herself a drink yet, hadn’t even smoked yet and here you were. You were wearing a white bikini and it looks so pretty against your soft skin. She was looking at your tits again.

Ah, shit.

“Ellie! M’so happy you came! I didn’t think I’d ever see you at one of these!” You all but squealed, throwing your arms around her neck and pulling your body taut against hers. Ellie didn’t have to look at Dina and Jesse to know that their eyebrows were practically in their hairline, taking in the scene in front of them. Your bikini top was damp still clearly having taken a dip in the pool earlier, along with the ends of your hair and she felt the wet triangles pressing damp spots into her own chest, your tits pressed up against her. You even had the nerve to let out a happy little ‘mmph’ moan as your body collided with hers. Were you really that happy to see her? God, if I had a dick right now, it would be rock fuckin’ hard. Thank fuck I don’t, Ellie thought— eyes opening again, not realising that she had squeezed them shut to suppress a moan when she’d hugged you back.

“Uh, yeah! Told you I’d consider it.” She tried to play it cool when she pulled back, taking in your giggly expression. You didn’t let go of her arm as you pulled away, and a waft of alcohol drifted through to Ellie’s nose, suddenly helping her understand the situation a little better. You were pretty drunk, but where was your boyfriend? Ellie scanned behind you, searching for his brunette mop only to be met with several dozens of them. Great. She felt a spike of anger in her chest again, violently protective. Who just leaves their girl wandering around in a bikini, drunk, at a frat party? “Wheres your little boyfriend?” Her expression flattened out, and she caught herself. She didn’t mean for it to come out like… that. Luckily, you were drunk enough to not notice the bitterness in her tone.

“Louis? Oh— uh…” Your bottom lip stuck out as you spun around on your tiptoes to see over heads, scanning the yard for him before spinning back with a shrug. You dropped back down onto the balls of your feet and your tits bounced in Ellie’s peripheral vision. “Who knows.” You giggle, eyes jumping to Ellie’s two friends, silently watching with amused smirks.

“Oh, uh— these are my friends. Dragged me along here. Dina,” She pointed. “And Jesse.” He gave you a little wave.

“Hi!” You chirped with an adorable little wave, before telling them your own name. “I’m not usually this…uh—”

“Drunk?” Ellie leant forward quietly with a smirk, like it was a secret just between the two of you. You giggled, turning back to her, introductions long forgotten as your face morphed into a theatric pout, blown out puppy dog eyes and all.

“Who says I’m drunk? Maybe I’m just really friendly.” You practically pur, suggestiveness dripping off your tone as your hand pulled her by her arm just that little bit closer, soft fingertips over her tattoo. Just as Ellie scrambled for an answer — your name was called in a familiar voice. Louis.

“Babe, there you are.” He sounded irritated, and Ellie straightened her back, jaw squaring ever so slightly. Be friendly, Ellie. He’s a customer — she remind herself. A shitty one, but he still pays you.

“Oh…” He took Ellie in, eyes jumping over her attire before glancing back at you. She just admit, she did look violently lesbian that day — and the body language between her and his girl wasn’t looking all too great to fresh eyes. “Hey.”

You reluctantly let go of Ellie’s arm, which didn’t go unnoticed by the brunette boy.

“I was just catching up with Ellie!” You grinned, and God — were you aware of just how flirtatious you looked batting your eyelashes up at her like that? In front of your boyfriend?

“Yeah, I see that.” Louis’ eyes didn’t leave Ellie’s, which of course she took as a competition without even thinking. She took a step closer, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She stood around 5’7. Taller when she wore boots. Taller if she fixed her posture. He wasn’t much taller than her, so she pretty much met his eye. Her heart skipped a few beats knowing you were watching her, but she held his gaze anyway— tilting her chin up a little. “Thanks for looking after my girl.” He spoke, which almost made Ellie want to laugh.

“Any time.” Eye to eye, the smirk that tugged at her lips held more meaning and the two of you knew it. Oh, she’d look after you alright. Louis’ eyes flickered away, glancing over at Dina and Jesse before back to her, stepping away and putting an arm around your shoulder.

“Come watch me play beer pong?” He spoke to you and you shrugged happily, taking the drink out of his hand and sipping. The freckled dealer couldn’t help but briefly think about how if you were with her she would have cut you off by this point, wrapping an arm around your waist and telling you that you’d had enough to drink, maybe suggest grabbing you a water. As he lead you away, you craned in his hold to wave at Ellie, who waved a few fingers back— watching closely. It was a casual crush before, but now it was on. She didn’t like Louis’ smugness, nor his general attitude or the way he was neglecting you. She had to take you and leave him with nothing. No, Ellie. You’re being like him. She’s not a piece of meat. But she knew the protectiveness didn’t stem from that. Did she think about you sexually? Yeah. But she could give you more than that. You were a sweet girl, and you should be treated as such.

“That was tense.” Dina raised her eyebrows, breaking the auburn haired girls concentration, her gaze snapping back to her friends.

“Oh, uh — he’s fuckin’… weird. I dunno. I give him my shitty weed.” She shrugged it off, looking over her shoulder once more to watch you disappear inside.

“I get it now, though. She’s a total smoke show.” Dina dropped her hand onto Ellie’s shoulder who sighed, shaking off the whole interaction.

“Whatever. I need a drink.” Ellie rolled her eyes, stepping away.

“She was hot.”

“Jesse, it’s okay when I say it. Not when you say it.”

“What? You just called her a smoke show! You’ve never called me that.”

Ellie left the bickering couple behind to find a beer, needing something cool and alcoholic to wind her down. Why was she getting so possessive over someone that wasn’t hers? You were making her feel like a creep, and she didn’t like that. Ellie did not catch feelings easily, despite her past mistakes. So like… what the fuck?

She didn’t see you for two weeks.

Maybe you’d realised you shouldn’t be giving her the eyes. Maybe Louis stepped up his game, who knows. Neither of you had even purchased any weed, and it was approaching exam season so Ellie knew you were stressed. But did she know? Was it presumptuous of her to ‘know’ how you feel?Just based off several occurrences and conversations when you’d come to her dorm to pick up? She tried to shake the feeling of you, your skin grazing hers and your pretty eyes staring up at her — and it was actually working. Maybe time does heal everything. Until of course, she went to the library and the clocks reversed on themselves.

She had to admit, she was falling a little behind in her work. She had gotten so preoccupied in selling that she had almost forgotten to be, well… a student. Her backpack was making her shoulder sore so she switched it to the other as she wandered through the building, fairly quiet for a Tuesday. She felt a pit of irritation bud inside her when she saw someone sat in the seat she wanted, the one that was away from everyone else in the library. She note the pink laptop case, the Hello Kitty stickers on the water bottle, the bracelets on the protruding arm. Oh, it was you.

Ellie was planning to walk on by. You’re here to do work, not flirt or get yourself involved in some kind of sapphic shenanigan. Your head was on the desk, and she figured you had fallen asleep — which almost made her smile fondly before she caught herself. Not yours, Ellie. As she stepped away however, she heard a sniffle. Then another. Ellie froze, willing herself not to do it. It’s not your responsibility Ellie, you can walk away and pretend you never saw. She pursed her lips, turning around anyway.

As she did so, you were lifting your head from the table, wiping your cheeks and nose of tears. You had this pitiful pout on your face, streaming eyes all pink and glossy and your nostrils damp in this oddly adorable way. Ellie still had time to creep away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“You uh… you good?” She stood awkwardly, making you snap your head towards her in surprise. She didn’t miss the way your eyes widened slightly in embarrassment at seeing a familiar face in such a vulnerable moment.

“Oh — Ellie. Um, yes. I’m fine.” You tried, but when you held her doubtful gaze — your lip wobbled again.

“Okay.” Ellie sighed after a beat, pulling up a seat and dragging it to your small table. Yep, she was doing this. “Talk to me.” She spoke in a hushed tone. She was so gentle with her voice and her eyes and her general demeanour — something you weren’t so used to — it soothed you enough to calm you for a moment and you revelled in the unfamiliar but warm feeling she brought you.

“I don’t wanna bore you with it.” You shook your head with an demure chuckle. Ellie wanted to reach forward and wipe your tears away, her hands itched on the table in-front of her instead.

“We’re literally in the library. I promise you that nothing is more boring than my text-book.” She raised an eyebrow with the attempts of making you laugh. Instead, you watched her for a moment. Ellie could tell you were wondering why she was being so nice to you. Does she treat all her customers this way?

“It’s… stupid. Louis just…” You sigh, as if the mere mention of his name makes you cringe. “We’re not that serious. So… I don’t care what he goes off and does in his spare time,” Interesting, Ellie noted. “But he gets really mad. And when he gets mad he gets mean. I guess I just need thicker skin.” Your voice cracked.

“Or you need to be with someone who’s not an asshole.” Ellie snipped before she got the chance to stop herself. Your eyes met hers again, a little wide in shock. “Sorry.” She closed her eyes, collecting herself. You blinked and two fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

“It’s… okay.” You whispered, playing with your bracelet. A silence sat between you two, just the sound of quiet shuffling in the library and your sniffs.

“Look, don’t let him get to you. You don’t… deserve that.” She shook her head and you nodded slowly, accepting. It was as if Louis were purposely giving her more reason to dislike him, and it was getting harder to hide her distaste for him. Snide comments were slipping out more frequently, Shit — she could barely even contain her facial expressions when his name was mentioned. Something had to be done soon, because she didn’t know how much ‘pretending’ she had left in her. Thankfully, the two of you seemed to have developed a bit of a friendship — so she felt less guilty about bashing your boyfriend, as you seemed understanding due to his often unlikeable ways.

“You done here soon?” Ellie looked around at the library. You wiped your cheek, hitting save on your laptop and shrugging.

“Didn’t really have any work to do, just didn’t know where to go.” You pout sadly, making Ellie have to dig her nails into her seat this time so that she didn’t lean forward and kiss it off you.

“Y’wanna smoke? On me. You need cheering up.” She stood up, swinging her backpack back on, studying long forgotten. You looked up at her hopefully, a glint of reluctance in your eye. You didn’t know why it felt wrong, you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Just two friends hanging out, right? Louis wouldn’t know that you’re attracted to her. You wasn’t even sure if Louis remembered that you were bisexual for Gods sake, despite telling him a whole bunch of times.

“Really? I can pay you Ellie…” Your eyebrows knit together, and she was already shaking her head.

“My treat. I don’t like seeing pretty girls cry. Makes me wanna cry. You want me to cry?” She joked, pointing at herself in disbelief. She felt relief at the giggle that made its way out your throat, covering your mouth as to not disturb the other library goers. Pretty girls. The words echoed around your head until your face was hot before it dropped into your stomach and made a nest there.

“Okay.” You agreed after a moment. What harm could it do? Louis was an asshole, and the guilt began to slip away as you stood up — remembering all the nasty things he’d said to you.

“Alright, good.” Ellie grinned, turning her face away for a moment so maybe you wouldn’t see how excited she was. You did.

_

“Thats a terrible first high story.” You giggled, taking a draw from the joint.

“What? Fuck you let’s hear yours then!” Ellie gaped, leaning forward from her seat on her bed to take the joint from you as you exhaled. You bit back your smile, letting your pink, watery eyes sail off in thought at you recalled your first time smoking.

“Kay, so… I was 17.” You staged dramatically, widening your eyes slightly as she smirked at your theatrics, leaning back with her eyes glued to you. If you weren’t so blazed, maybe you’d feel nervous under her simmering gaze. “Best friends brother let us smoke some in the backyard with his friends. I tried to play it cool, but I smoked too much and start laughing and I couldn’t stop. Like — it was painful, and I was scared because I couldn’t stop laughing. And they were all looking at me like what the fuck… so I went inside, tried to calm myself down and I threw up on the carpet. Like a distressed cat.” You pouted lightheartedly as Ellie chuckled along with your story.

“Threw up? How strong was the weed? Damn.” She laughed and you shook your head.

“It might have been the shots we’d done before hand to calm our nerves. Bad idea.” You cringed and she nodded, eyes still piercing into you as her laughter died down.

“That might’ve been it, yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as she brought the joint to her lips once again, sucking in as she inhaled the pungent smoke. Ellie always got this confidence about her when she smoked. Well — she always had this slightly cocky demeanour about her, but for the most part it was an act. A need to protect herself. A defence mechanism that helped her get by — being a dealer was a social ass job. But smoking made that feeling real. She knew that was bad, relying on weed for real confidence and all, but hey — she’ll take what she can get.

“How you feeling? Any better?” She tested the waters, almost sorry she brought it up when you remembered Louis’ existence, expression melting a little into one of slight disappointment. One that said ‘Oh yeah… him.’ Like you’d forgotten for a moment.

“I guess. Not gonna let it bother me like you said. I don’t have the energy.” You shrugged, tearing your gaze away to study your baby pink manicure instead. Ellie scoffed out a little chuckle, finally stubbing out the joint. The noise attracted your attention and you met her analytical stare.

“Can I… ask what you see in that guy? Not judging just… curious.” She held her hands up in defence, but you didn’t exactly jump to his rescue. Infact it took you a moment to think about it.

“I don’t…” You stop yourself from saying ‘I don’t know’, your pride still burning despite the weed letting your guard down. “He’s… nice most of the time. Kinda guy your parents want you to bring home. He’s not as bad as he seems around other people. I guess he makes me feel wanted when we’re together?” You consider, but the way you say it makes Ellie think that you don’t even fully believe it. “I think… it was gonna be just sex. When I first met him anyway, but if I’m being totally honest the sex isn’t worth it on its own so I dunno… I thought I’d feel more fulfilled by a commitment, you know?”

Ellie was delighted, to be honest. It was music to her ears. You were just spewing about how unfulfilled you were, and she was starting to feel more and more confident that she could convince you that there was a bigger and better world out there. She laughed, openly — letting the joy of the moment go to her head for a minute.

“Oh that’s funny?” You giggled back, chucking a small brown sentimental looking teddy bear at her from her bed. You pursed your lips and she could tell despite your laughter you were knocked slightly insecure by her reaction.

“A little.” She looks off to the side. You want to chuck something else at her but there’s nothing to throw.

“Why?” You push. You know why.

“Your boyfriend can’t fuck.” Her stomach tensed as another laugh bubbled up and you rolled your eyes theatrically, pushing yourself up just so you can dramatically change your position to face the other way on the bed, arms crossed and brow creased.

“Not opening up to you again.” You push out and she nudges you gently with her foot, a more sympathetic (yet equally amused) expression still at the surface.

“No, I’m sorry. Go on.” She waved her a hand a little in the smoky room, nudging you again with her sock covered toe.

“Thats it! There’s nothing else to it. My boyfriend can’t fuck and it sucks. I hate everything.” You complain, not daring to face her. She can’t help but burst out laughing again, the back of her head leaning back to rest on the wooden headboard as she runs a hand over her eyes, shielding herself from the bright dorm light, and you. She lets out an ‘ahhh’ at the end of her outburst.

She hears you whine her name, and she takes more pity on you this time purely because you sound so cute.

“Alright uh— tell me what he’s doing wrong. I’ll give you pointers to give to him so he can fix his shit.” She tries suddenly, as if just being struck by the idea — and she feels you slowly look at her. She pushes her chin down to her chest, looking at you now as she removes her hand from her eyes. You blink at her a couple of times, still pretty, still high as a kite.

You inhale through your nose, eyes drifting off in thought as you turn back towards her, invested, tucking your feet beneath your ass. You hum, coming up blank. “I don’t know. I feel like… you either got it or you don’t, you know? Sex is… emotional. Well, it should be. To him it’s just… getting off.” You shrug, opting to pick at a loose thread on her grey bed throw than look at her. The smirk is still dying on her lips like the slither of sunlight resting on water at the culmination of a sunset. She takes a little longer to think, brain fogged by her high.

“So… okay.” She pushes her palms into the bed to sit up a little more. “What do you like? I don’t really pin you as someone who… wants to be in control.” She analyses, watching you carefully for a reaction. She notices the flick up of your eyebrows and guesses — correct.

“With him there’s no… no one is in control. It’s not one person calling the shots or any kind of dynamic it’s just… we just fuck and that’s it.” You sound sad this time, like bringing the conversation to forefront was making you realised just how unhappy you were.

“Do you cum?” She asks abruptly, and you nearly choke on your own saliva. You think it catches her off guard too, because she looks away from you for a moment and itches her head before deciding fuck it, and goes back to staring. You bite your lip. Well there was that one time, you were on your back — Louis on top, you had a hand pressed between the two of you, rubbing your clit in quick sloppy circles as he got busy. Your eyes were closed. Did you cum? Kind of? Your eyes were closed. You were somewhere else. Somewhere softer and warmer, and it didn’t smell like beer and sweat. You shake your head, no. It was the closest time though, but Louis got all hostile about you touching yourself during sex. Said it was insulting, that you undermined him. You shook off the memory.

“No?” She whispers, eyebrows raised to the high heavens as if she just couldn’t fathom having sex and not making her partner cum — because that’s exactly what she was doing. She felt that hot tingling anger again in her chest, but it was dulled out by the weed — leaving her with just a light irritation at the back of her throat. “Thats fucked up.”

“Is it? I mean… orgasms take time. Doesn’t just happen in five minutes… that can get exhausting.” You defend, and you’re not sure why. You both know there’s no excuse.

“Nah.” She sniffs, not quite bothered to begin on how wrong you are. She switches the subject slightly instead. “So let me guess, missionary everytime?”

Your eyes widen, pressing your fingers over your lips to stop the childish giggle from bursting out. Ellie’s eyes widen too, realising how, well — down bad she was acting. She felt like a teenage boy on Snapchat playing truth or dare asking an uninterested girl if she’d ever send nudes before.

“Uh— fuck, you don’t have to answer that. Just making conversatio—”

“Most of the time. I think…” You decide to share something to make her feel less invasive, not wanting the conversation to end. You actually enjoyed getting to talk someone about this. “I think I’d feel good on top, maybe. But, hmm. How do I put this?” You thought. You looked at her for a moment and she gazed back, waiting on you to continue. Her breath caught in her throat when you crawled up toward her. “Lay back, please?” It was a request, not a command — and Ellie thought she might be dreaming when you straddled her with a frustrated expression.

You settled, and she was hyper aware of the feeling of your pillowy ass dropped down onto her thighs over her warm crotch.

“Okay, say I’m here. In this position.” You explain as well as you can, and when you give a few demonstrative bounces on her phantom cock her hands instinctively land on your hips to steady you. Fuck. Fucking shit. You don’t even seem to notice, or care. “This,” You point at your position. “Is me being in charge and… I don’t want that. It— it doesn’t get me off. I don’t wanna feel like I’m dominating them.” You whisper the last part like you’re telling her a secret at a girly sleepover, and she catches herself grinning before she scrambles, running over what you just said in her brain.

“Wait. Nah, that’s…” She adjusts herself slightly sheepish because she can feel herself blushing. Be cool, Ellie. Be dominant. “Thats bull. It doesn’t matter what position you’re in, it’s about how you make them feel.” She shrugs, and when you continue to stare at her, pink, glossy wide eyes— she carries on, you requiring more explanation. “If you’re on top working overtime, he should be telling you what a good job you’re doin’. How pretty you look doin’ it.” Her voices rasps in the way it does when she gets horny and she hopes she’s not giving herself away. Your mind goes a little blank, succumbing to the daydream of receiving that kind of praise. It makes your skin feel clammy. Louis isn’t below you in your daydream. Your freckled friend breaks your trail of thoughts. “And,” She’s smug now, and raises her knees behind you, planting her feet down on the bed and thrusting upwards a few times making you bounce a little, gripping her tighter. “Doesn’t matter if you were on top. I could still be the one fucking you. Just like this.”

You pause, only because you’re frozen in fear that she can feel the sudden floodgates open between your legs— praying to every God imaginable that you don’t leave some kind of pathetic wet patch on her. She thinks you’ve frozen at what she’s said.

“Uh— I mean Louis. Louis could still be the one— yeah.” She shrugs off, squeezing your hips with her warm fingers and you’re suddenly aware of your compromising position again, shaken from a dream. You slide off her quickly, bringing your knees to your chest and your back to the cool wall beside her bed. You were not a cheater. It doesn’t matter that the two of you didn’t kiss, or fuck, or whatever — what would have happened if Louis had walked in and seen you in your very gay dealers lap, pretending to have sex? You were not a cheater.

Ellie’s mouth was agape, like she wanted to say sorry but just couldn’t find it in her to feel sorry enough to say it. Her eyes were worried however, worried she’d made you uncomfortable or pushed it too far.

“I should… I shouldn’t stay. It’s getting late and—” You started looking for your bag with your laptop in it, where did you put it again?

“I’m sorry I— I didn’t mean to be weird. That was… I made you feel—” Her tone was apologetic now.

“No, no. It’s not that. I’m just hungry and I get weird when I’m… when I haven’t eaten. You’re fine. I mean, you were fine. Nothing weird just… friends hanging out, right?”

It hurt her, but Ellie nodded anyway. You were going back to him. It always ended this way.

“‘Kay. You got everything? You gonna be okay getting back? You’re still high.” Ellie stood, awkwardly dawdling behind you as you scooped up your purse. “I can walk you back—” She started patting her pockets for her key card.

“It’s okay, really. It’s still light outside and it’s a short walk. I think I need just… fresh air and quiet.” You avoid her eyes, but turn to face her as you back towards her door.

“Okay.” She was disappointed. “I hope you feel better now, ‘n stuff.” Your hand pushed the cold metal handle down and the hallway of her building was just as muggy, but it felt like a relief when some of the smoke from her dorm was released.

“I do.” You could look now, standing in the hallway as she didn’t move past her doorway. The distance made it safe enough to look at her pretty eyes without feeling you were going to do something bad. “Thank you Ellie. I owe you one.” Your brows knit together sincerely. Sure, I have a favour I need — break up with your boyfriend.

“Sure.” Ellie left it there, shook her head like it was nothing. “Text me and just… let me know that you got in okay. Yeah?” She continued to speak to you as you backed up down the hallway, awkwardly fumbling with your bag. It was wrong to let a girl walk back home high and alone. She thought about you walking around drunk and alone at that frat party. She was Louis this time.

“Will do. See you, Ellie.” Her name sounded like music when you said it. She had a new favourite song.

Your dorm was cooler, refreshing to be in when you got back. Your first mission was to look in the mirror and you sighed almost angrily seeing how flustered and a little dishevelled you look. You wanted to take the clothes off that touched her, still stinking of weed. You wanted food in your belly to flush her out. Flopping onto your back on your bed you pull your phone out, ignoring the texts and calls from your boyfriend — all to send a message to your dealer.

‘got back safe, thanks again😊’ You regret the emoji, but the Read: 5:13PM was immediate so there was no time to regret it for long. Three bubbles and then ‘Good’. You stare at the text, and then stare past the phone. You didn’t want to answer Louis right now. He could wait until tomorrow.

part two

[mercurycft]

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 — 𝐊𝐌

## katie mccabe x reader !!

hi pookies!! once again i apologise for the lateness.. but i really hope you enjoy this.. my little tattoo-lover heart got a little carried away with this, but i love this concept so much and i hope you do too! its a little different than the original idea for the direction of this, but either way, i really enjoyed this!! happy reading! love always - RG! x

i would also like to say! this is inspired by a fic i saw on my feed about a tattoo artist x alexia (i think) and i loved it! if i find the account i will top the link to their fic here!

contains: tattoo artist reader! shameless flirting! angsty make up sex, cocky!katie, fight for dominance, oral - both receiving, rough grabbing, dirty talk, fingering, useless lesbians, top!katie and brat!reader, foul language.

r's masterlist - requests open!

4.6k words

CONTAINS ADULT LANGUAGE & CONTENT 18+

a knock at your door was a disruption to your night time routine - pyjamas already on, makeup off, hair tied back and your toothbrush hanging from your lips. you slipped on your slippers and headed down the stairs, still brushing your teeth when you pulled the door open to reveal a familiar face.

she was in a similar state. hair tied back messily, loungewear on and no makeup accept for her eyelash extensions. your eyes lifted from the floor to finally meet hers on the other side of the threshold

“katie..?”

“can i come in?”

3 months ago.

a notification past 7pm would usually be ignored.

and it was the first time, then the second, then the third. the fourth, however, was followed by a groan from your sprawled-out position on your sofa. although tempted to put your phone onto 'do not disturb' and continue the twilight marathon you started the previous night, you stretched across the empty space and patted around to locate your phone - simultaneously pausing the tv and shifting to sit with your back against the pillows for a change.

katie_mccabe11 liked your story.

katie_mccabe11 liked your post.

katie_mccabe11 started following you.

you have 1 new message.

"katie mccabe.." you whispered into the emptiness of your apartment, crossing your legs beneath you and clicking on the notification on your screen. "why do i know her.." you racked your brain, pursing your lips. you noted the football shirt in her profile picture alongside the blue verified tick beside her username and used your critical thinking skills to put two and two together, chuckling at the thought of your younger sister losing her mind at another footballer dming you.

you waited a few seconds before opening her message, reading it carefully and silently. "that's how i know her.." you replied to yourself, whilst alone.

last week you had beth mead in your seat at the shop, getting a small paw print behind her ear and chatting yours off in the process. you spoke about a lot of things, you're used to that though. sometimes people just need someone to talk to - and who better than their tattoo artist? you liked beth, she was lovely, easy to talk to. the kind of person you would be friends with. she wasn't with you for long, an hour tops and it flew by. at the end of the appointment you exchanged socials and she left with a 'i'll tell the girls about you!".

you didn't really watch football, but you knew enough - and you would be lying if the thought of your name being chucked around between a very attractive group of women didn't make your stomach twist.

you typed your reply to katie quickly. starting with your usual friendly opening, explaining your upcoming availability and then ending with a single kiss. you had no available appointment spaces for the next three weeks, but you hoped that beth really sold you and your passion enough that she would consider waiting. she read it almost immediately, making your eyes widen and quickly swipe away from the message in an effort to not seem like a total weirdo.

her reply flashed across the top of your screen a few seconds later.

'ill take it x'

—————————

appointment day.

it was appointment day and god were you a nervous wreck. you arrived at the shop an hour earlier than normal to open up and clean before she arrived - she was your first and only appointment of the day and you wanted to make a good first impression. you prepared what you would need, laying your tools out on the table beside you and making a coffee - which would no doubt be freezing cold by the time you actually got around to drinking it.

you connected your phone to the bluetooth speakers around the room and shuffled your playlist just as the doorbell rang from the front of the shop. 7:59. you didn't know much about katie, having restrained yourself from going full-on stalker mode over the last few weeks leading up to her appointment. but clearly she was punctual.

as you unlocked the door and smiled to her through the glass, you couldn't help but realise how strikingly attractive she was. her hair pulled into a tight and slick ponytail at the back of her head, a deep green tracksuit complimenting her tanned skin and bright eyes.

"good morning!" you greeted cheerfully, welcoming her in.

you watched as her eyes scanned around the room, studying the artwork on the walls before they landed back on you and a smile spread across her face to match yours.

"mornin' hope i've not been a fuss this early.." she joked as you embraced each other in one of those awkward-but-friendly-first-meeting hugs, causing you to laugh softly.

"oh it's no bother, serious." you waved her comment off, shutting the door behind you both and leading her over to your station at the back of the shop. you didn't expect her accent to be so thick, but the way her voice sat heavy in the space between you had you clenching your jaw.

the pair of you made small talk as she got situated and sat on the leather bed whilst you pulled up a stall and your phone to take another look at the pictures she had previously sent, grabbed a pen and then pulled a pad of paper onto your lap. laying the phone down so she could see as well.

you sat across from katie, discussing designs and what she would and wouldn't like. she was engrossed in the conversation, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as you shared ideas and suggestions. you found yourself doodling on the paper, absentmindedly drawing whatever came to mind as she chatted about the specifics of what she wanted. every now and then, your eyes would meet hers, and a playful smile would tug at the corners of your lips.

there was silence between you for a few beats as your pen etched across the paper and completed the first sketch of the possible design. when you finished you looked up and turned the paper towards her before you could ask how she felt about it she spoke up.

"how do you do that?"

"do what?" you replied playfully with a smile.

"how can you just listen and draw? it's so cool.." she sounded genuinely bewildered for a moment and you couldn't help but laugh lowly.

"honestly, it just happens. when someone describes what they want i see it in my head and just let my pen translate it." you explained with a shrug, looking at her again.

"well its sick, i won't lie!"

"thank you.. i'm a woman of many, many talents.." it came out a lot more suggestive sounding than intended, mental cursing yourself and begging internally that she wouldn't see the pink tint you could feel spreading across your cheeks. you looked back down at the page before she could notice, avoiding her eyes.

"oh i bet." she added, smirking across from you.

you both sat like that for another ten minutes, brainstorming ideas and katie watching you bring them to life like a magician until you both finally settled on a design. you couldn’t believe how natural the interaction was coming and conversation flowing. you embraced the shared banter between you and leant into her jokes.

the design she had settled on was small and intricate but you knew you could free-hand it, so decided against using a stencil for the work. “right, i am gonna wash my hands and get everything sterilised, you get comfy and have a think about where you want it. okay?” you said as you stood up and ripped out the page you were using, placing it beside your other supplies so it was easy to use as a reference. katie replied with a small “sounds good to me,” and you heard her shuffle around the bed and as you made your way to the sink you could feel her eyes on you, following you away.

when you returned to her, she was sat more comfortably and had discarded her hoodie. the ribbed vest she was hiding left little to your imagination, revealing her arms and more of that heavenly tanned skin to your prying eyes. you tried not to look, but were made too aware of yourself failing miserably when she caught your gaze and you watched her suppress a chuckle.

once you were situated on the stool again, you took a deep breath and turned towards her. “so where are you thinking?” she sat silently in response, deep in thought.

“either here,” she pointed to the inside of her bicep to punctuate her point “or here..” she added quietly as her thumb hooked into the waistband of her joggers and shimmied them down a couple of inches until you could see the skin at the bottom of her stomach- in line with her hip. perhaps you looked for a second too long, or she heard you gulp, or maybe your fears were real and she could in fact hear your heart rattling against the boney cage of your ribs in your heaving chest - but the way you heard her exhale a humorous breath and tense her stomach muscles snapped you back into reality.

“which one would you prefer?” you questioned, professionally.

“probably my hip.” you nodded in agreement, smiling and internally celebrating at her decision. “and as a bonus i get to watch you gawk at me for however long it takes,” she teased, earning a small smack to the upper thigh and an eye roll.

“i was absolutely not gawking!” you defended with a smile.

“oh yeah, alright then..”

you rolled your eyes again and stood to grab a small bottle of sanitiser and a disposable razor, placing them on the table - once you made sure she was comfortable you sat down again.

“i’m going to pull your joggers down a couple inches, is that okay?” you waited for her reply before making any moves closer to her.

“of course,”

“perfect.”

you got straight to work, dragging them down until the area she had pointed out was revealed again - only this time you could see the band of her underwear peaking out from beneath the fabric and it had you drawing in a careful breath. you circled the skin with your pinky finger lightly and showed her the length and width the ink would cover, double checking that was exactly where she wanted.

the tattoo itself took no longer than forty minutes to complete. once you were finished you sanitised and made sure it was exactly how she wanted before moving to discard any disposables used. she took it like a champ the entire time, only slightly flinching when the needle grazed a particularly tender spot.

you spoke to her about the aftercare and how to take care of it whilst it healed, then covered it with second skin and soothed the area - moving to wash your hands and stand against the counter. “any questions?”

you sat speaking for another hour, and you were sure at times she was stalling so she wouldn’t need to leave.

“when do you finish?”

“whenever you want to go,”

“why didn’t you say! i don’t want to hold you up, love..” she tutted and began collecting her stuff. you laughed at her huffing like a child and led her towards the front desk.

the petname made your stomach jump, twisting and twitching in your abdomen as you studied her. the way she moved and smiled, how her eyes pierced through you like she was reading your mind - how you were so sure she actually could see and read the filth behind your own eyes.

at the front she paid and thanked you another couple hundred times as you let her out the door. she stepped over the threshold and gave you another small hug. “thank you again, i really love it.”

“stop thanking me! i’m just glad i could do your vision justice..” you smiled and shrugged, “you’re welcome anytime, just pop me a message!”

“that’s just because you want to look at my stomach again..” she called, walking to her car and waving.

“shut up.” you rolled your eyes, laughing. “don’t be a stranger!”

—————————

during the appointment you and katie exchanged numbers and for days, weeks, months you texted each other everyday. you met for coffee, went to watch her and the team (who you got along with swimmingly) practice, you even went to watch all of their matches.

you had been inseparable since that first meeting, you shared things about each other previously unknown by anyone, spent evenings and nights at each others homes and got aquatinted with family and friends.

after spending so long together, the pair of you had become incredibly close - often sharing a bed, and clothes. you couldn’t help but feel things for her, for katie. your stomach became a harvest ground for butterflies and your heart rattled with longing for her.

you came close to telling her, to explaining how you felt - until one day, it just stopped.

the meetings stopped,

then the match invites,

then the messages,

everything stopped.

—————————

present day - 2 months later.

over the last months without talking to katie, you threw yourself into work and university in an attempt to distract yourself. you felt like you were going through a break up - could you even call it that? could you categorise this into the break up section? a friend break up? whatever it was, it hurt, and you found yourself still thinking about her.

friday nights felt weird now. usually sat on the sofa with a takeaway, katie sat on the other side with her food in her lap - laughing at some stupid program she had put on. now it was empty in the apartment, and you sat on the sofa alone with a cup of tea watching telly until it was time to get ready for bed.

you showered, careful to avoid putting soap the area of your newest tattoo addition on your wrist - letting the warm water run over the skin. when you were done, you made sure to moisturise and then cover it up again before getting dressed into your pjs.

you brushed your hair, and then began brushing your teeth - staring at yourself in the mirror and studying the ink that now littered your arms and chest.

you were deep in though when a a knock at your door disrupted your night time routine - still brushing your teeth when you pulled the door open to reveal a familiar face. your eyes lifted from the floor to finally meet hers on the other side of the threshold.

“katie..?

“can i come in?”

“uh, yeah- yeah- sure,” you stammered and stepped back to open the door wider for her, stepping away into the kitchen area to spit the froth from your toothpaste into the sink and quickly rinse before running back to shut the door behind her.

it was awkward. she stood in front of you in silence for a few beats, looking down at the ground as if she was figuring out what to say. you stood a few steps away, leant on the wall beside you with your arms crossed across your chest.

"why are you-"

"look i dont know why-"

you both spoke over eachother, breaking the silence that sat heavy between the walls. you shared a smile, it was brief, but it was there as you met her blues and waved your hand - gesturing for her to continue.

"look, i don't know why i'm here. i just got in my car and then i was on the drive and i just needed to speak to you. i just wanted to see you-"

"oh god you never shut up mccabe.." you whispered with an eye roll as you advanced towards her.

one step. what if she doesn't want this?

two steps. what if i've read this all wrong?

three steps. jesus her perfume..

every step you took was narrated by that voice in your head, you know, that one that tells you to shut up in uncomfortable situations and the one that speaks to you when you watch something brilliantly but so stupidly funny. you couldn't stop to think out loud, you couldn't stop full stop. point blank. period.

your feet were moving faster than your thoughts, and your thoughts were moving faster than your logic until you were so close you could feel her soft breath caressing the skin of your face.

"tell me not to, and i won't." you said softly

"god, you've always been too sweet for me."

there was no time to register what she said, her lips were on yours. they were everything you had thought of, they were soft but she kissed you with urgency. breathing heavily as her hands raised to either side of your face, pulling you closer than physically possible. your lips moved together sweetly, full of love.

you stayed like that for a few minutes, soaking each other in until she pulled away. lips swollen, taking a deep breath. there were no words exchanged between you, only eye contact - the sound of breathing shared. then you crashed together again, lips connected for a second time in the space of five minutes.

this time however, was harsher, and fast-paced. she was in control, gagging for it. hands grabbing at whatever fabric they could find on the opposing body, a small moan falling from your lips when her hands squeezed the skin of your waist and her lips broke from yours momentarily to grunt out a "jump." to which you gladly obliged, legs wrapping around her waist and her hands finding the skin at the top of your thighs - she held you like nothing, with no struggle as she passed through the hall and up the four steps to your bedroom.

when she placed you back down onto your feet you were quick to tug your top up and over your head, discarding it on the floor. before you could continue she grabbed your hand, finger tracing gently over the still-fresh tattoo across your wrist.

"this is new," katie whispered.

"i had a lot of time on my hands." you replied at the same volume, shrugging. she chuckled lightly, reading the words now littering the skin. "and you were always saying i was sweet.."

"aye, and you're yet to prove me wrong."

"don't start something you can't finish, katie."

"oh i'm very, very good at finishing, actually."

"shut up."

this time you had her, hands on the back of her neck as you pulled her in. grabbing the fabric that sat at the nape of her neck and pulling it over her head, only breaking the kiss until your path was cleared again. you span around, walking backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed causing her to lay down. you wasted no time in straddling the top of her thighs, arms on either side of her head.

"behave." she muttered, hands gripping your thighs and switching your positions on the bed, now towering over you, arms replacing yours on the bed. mouth moving to your neck, nipping at the skin beneath your ear. "stop acting like you don't want me to have my way with you."

"stop acting like you've got it in you." you quipped back, smirking when her teeth grazed your earlobe roughly. her hand raising to grip your jaw and forcefully turn your head to face her.

"is that a challenge? hm?" it was rhetorical, her eyebrows raised and voice low.

"prove it."

she didn't need further pushing, lifting herself off the bed and taking a few steps back. you propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch, head tilted when she stared at you blankly. eyes flicking to your shorts before back up to your face.

"take em' off."

"you take them off."

"take. them. off. i won't be asking again."

you gave in with a huff, rolling your eyes and lifting your hips to peel your shorts off. biting down a smirk as you lifted your legs back onto the bed - revealing yourself to her.

"awfully cocky there, love."

"as if you don't love it."

"do you always have such a smart mouth?"

"i have a very lovely mouth."

"oh i bet."

she was on her knees then, face level with you. eyes locked on your gleaming pussy, fingers gliding through your folds and collecting your slick before bringing her digits to slip between her lips - tasting you. she laid her fingers back against you, prints flat against your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make your head fall back on the bed behind you with a desperate moan.

she drew tight circles, watching you throb beneath her fingers. you moaned at the contact, your clit already sensitive. you didn't know how she managed it, but she had you falling apart from the pressure alone - and you could tell she loved every second of it with her lips drawn into a cocky smirk at the sight of your mouth falling agape when you began rutting up into hands as a plea for more.

“does that feel good darlin'?” she asked from between your thighs, her lips pressed against the soft skin of your leg, stopping their sloppy kisses for a second. you whimpered in response, nodding slowly. “use your words, love.”

“yes it feels good..” you whispered, licking your lips, your mouth increasingly dry.

“good girl..” she added, jaw clenched when she attached her lips to your thighs again. you savoured the feeling, the delicious feeling as she dragged her fingers roughly against you. the praise made your legs tense against her lips, sending a rush of pleasure down through the depths of your stomach.

“i want more. please.”

"hm? what was that?”

“i want your fingers..” you confessed, dragging your own teeth along the back of your hand which you were using to muffle the sultry sounds tumbling from your lips - biting down against the skin when you felt your face flush.

“please,” you begged, hips rising off the bed in a desperate act for more friction. she shut you down quickly, using her free hand to pin your hips back to the mattress.

“please what, darling..” she stalled, slowing down to an unbearable speed.

“i need you to fuck me,” your words made you squirm, eagerly waiting as you felt a single finger travel down and tease your hole before she pushed into you slowly. her own thighs clenching at the sound of you gasping as she added another finger, curling them methodically inside of you.

she stretched you out perfectly, her fingers moving at just the right speed to have you moaning with every thrust into you. her pace and pressure increased with the volume of your whimpers, back arched into her touch and face buried in your arms as her fingers pressed perfectly inside of you. she curled her fingers to press against your g-spot, mentally noting how perfect you sounded chanting her name. taking advantage of you being preoccupied by the pleasure, she moved to lay her tongue flat against your clit. fingers still moving inside you as she carefully flicked the bundle of nerves between her lips.

a moan rattled from the back of her throat as you coated her taste buds, the vibrations travelling straight to the fire now raging in the pit of your stomach and coursing through your legs - coaxing out a moan of your own.

she felt you tense and squeeze around her fingers, your clit throbbing against her mouth when she lifted her eyes to survey the scene above her. your eyes screwed shut and teeth gripping your bottom lip so tight it was sure to leave a mark. chest heaving and hands twisting in the sheets.

"you going to cum for me?"

“y-yes,” you stuttered, eyes rolling into the back of your head when her fingers curled a final time and she took your clit into her mouth with a pop.

“thats it. good girl.”

that was all it took for you, your orgasm crashing through your body and shaking through your limbs. legs shaking beside her head and cunt tensing around her fingers. back arched and screaming out her name.

katie let you ride it out, only stilling her fingers and withdrawing her tongue from you when your back finally laid against the bed again - catching your breath. she brought her fingers up to your mouth and slipped them past your lips for a second as she moved to straddle you, climbing up from the floor. her fingers dragged down the length of your chin and were replaced with her mouth, her tongue finding yours - allowing you to taste yourself from her mouth.

"wanna taste you," you managed to croak out through the kisses, gulping and lifting your hands to press against her chest. pushing her back and towards the pillows at the head of the bed until she was laid down. "my turn.." you whispered seductively in her ear, lips pursed and leaving small kisses in your path as you travelled down the length of her body.

her tracksuit bottoms were removed quickly and your fingers were hooked into the band of her underwear, pulling them down her tanned legs until they followed the rest of the clothes to reside on the floor. she was dripping, and the sight alone was enough to have you salivating below her.

the scrunchie in your hair had loosened after the previous events of the evening, and your hair was limp enough for her to slide her hand into the back of your locks. gripping tightly and pulling you closer to her pussy.

"go on, make me feel good."

you needed no further instruction, moving closer to her before she had even finished the sentence. you laid your tongue flat against her, lapping her up. she tasted almost as good as she looked. her eyes focused on you and her hand tight against your scalp, guiding you.

you couldn't look away, allowing her to take you as she wanted. moving your head against the rhythm of her hips - moaning your name when your eyes met hers innocently. her head fell against the headboard when you whimpered against her, her own noises mirroring yours as her legs started to close around your head.

"fuck, thats it. i'm gonna cum," she groaned, both hands on the back of your head as you drank her in. nodding eagerly between her thighs, silently begging for her to cum for you.

and she did. hard. crying your name out into the room around you, followed by a string of curses until she finally released your head from her hands and her legs laid limp beside her on the bed.

"jesus christ."

"nope, just me." you teased, now occupying the space beside her on the pillows. both of your bodies coated in a sheen layer of sweat and your eyes threatened to close with the sound of her steady breathing when her arms moved to embrace you.

"i didn't mean to just disappear how i did," she began, causing you to look at her again. "i just didn't want you to get caught up in the shit show that is my life,"

"katie, you could've just said you needed a bit of space,"

"but i don't think that's what i wanted, i just didn't to ruin what we were doing, and well, making.." she paused, taking one of your hands into her own and bringing her lips to press against the skin.

"you were just too sweet to me,"

[papaya-twinks]

red hot chilli 🌶️ - l.n - part 2

Warnings: slight obsessiveness, kinda stalking, swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

other parts

“Ah, there you are, Y/N,” a voice said behind Lando, and he looked up, seeing his friend Carlos standing behind him. Carlos knew who you were? Lando was not about to ruin any chance he could possibly have with you in front of Carlos. 

“Lando, this is my little sister, Y/N,” Carlos said, his familiar Spanish accent seeping through as Lando’s eyes widened. Sister?! Oh fuck…out of all the girls Lando decided to have a major ass crush on, it just had to be Carlos’ sister.

“Less of the little,” you said with a click of your tongue, snapping Lando out of his thoughts about you. It seemed to all be coming back…the crush he’d had on you when Carlos was in McLaren…how could he forget you so easily?

Well, it was hardly his fault. After all, you had had your nose buried in a book half the time, and all he could ever see was whatever renaissance book cover you had up. It was cute, to him, how you always had yourself buried in a book. 

“Yeah, we, uh, we’ve met,” Lando said, his hand scratching on the back of his neck. “Yeah, he walked into a pole,” Alex giggled from behind you as Lando shot her a glare. “Too busy staring at something else,” she continued with mock wistfulness in her voice. 

“Do shut up,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his perfect, chocolate curls. “Well,” Lando said to Carlos with his usual, lopsided grin, “I best be off now. Need to walk my sunflower,” Lando mumbled, trying not to seem suspicious and failing miserably.

And so, with a sheepish and half-apologetic smile to you, he left, speed-walking his way down the pit lane and towards his motorhome. Oh fuck….no, he could feel his old crush coming back…but was he entirely against it? Not at all. 

As much as Lando wasn’t entirely alright with the idea of you being the sister of his best friend (and on-track rival), it made finding your socials much easier. Stalking? Exactly the word. In Lando’s mind (more to convince himself this wasn’t a bad thing), it was just ‘researching’. 

y/n.sainz

Cute. Lando was sitting in his room, the curtains drawn closed, his laptop perched on his lap. He’d changed out of his team polo and into a comfy plain white t-shirt and light grey joggers. “Wow…” he muttered under his breath as he scrolled through your profile. 

There were hundreds of photos, some of you with your books, some of you in front of beautiful pieces of renaissance art (though Lando found you a hundred times prettier). Chewing his lip, he clicked the bright blue ‘sign up’ button in the corner, and entered his email. 

How the hell could he message you out of the blue and say ‘Hi, I’m Lando Norris’? Absolutely not. In the box labelled ‘first name’, he entered the name ‘Luka’, and left the surname blank. It was the first name he could come up with. 

Tapping his fingers onto the keyboard, he waiting so few seconds for the app to load, and then stared at the new, blank account. He changed the default profile picture to one of a cute puppy he found online (girls loved dogs, right?). 

Luka: Hi! Is this Y/N?

Lando had formulated a plan - in which he would pretend he was looking for a Y/N he’d ‘met at a club’, and he’d ’accidentally’ messaged the wrong girl. Lando’s breath hitched for a second as he saw three pale grey dots appear on the bottom of the screen. And then…

Y/N: Hi! I’m busy right now, but I’ll get back to you soon!

…an automated message. “Fuck,” Lando cursed to himself, he should’ve known! You were a gorgeous girl, of course you’d have hundreds of guys (and probably girls too), trying to get into your DMs. 

He was damn lucky you hadn’t tuned off your DMs. All he could do was stare at the message and hope maybe you actually would reply and wouldn’t shut him off as some guy who wanted to try their luck with you. And then another message…

Y/N: Hi, this is Y/N, how can I help?

Wow. How the hell was Lando in awe of a damn message? Everything about you was so fucking hypnotising, and Lando couldn’t deny that he loved it. He did. It was enchanting…god he was falling for a girl he’d seen for a few seconds…plus the years of McLaren before. 

Luka: Hey, I’m looking for a Y/N I met at a club, is that you?

“Please, please, please don’t block me…” Lando thought to himself, hoping you wouldn’t. He hadn’t through that through. What if he messaged you and you just blocked him? Fuck!

Y/N: No, I haven’t met a Luka at a club anytime soon, sorry!

Luka: ah that’s shit, sorry to bother you

Y/N: it’s totally fine, it’s nice to finally have someone who isn’t sending dick pics or something haha 

Luka: don’t worry, haha, I’m not here to do that!!

Y/N: thank god, finally haha :)

Luka: well, it’s nice to meet you y/n :), your photos are rework pretty btw 

Y/N: you as well, and thank you!! your puppy’s really cute too :)

There was this fuzzy little feeling inside of Lando, one he couldn’t quite place as he bid you goodnight, telling you he’d message you again the next day. Like butterflies were fluttering round his body.

And so he closed his laptop, going to bed instead, trying to keep you out his mind. When he’d see you next? He didn’t know, he didn’t care either. Well he cared, yes. But he knew he could talk to you…even if you weren’t there in person. 

How he wished you’d come to the next race in Japan…and then all the other races…and he’d charm you so well…make you his. In less than a day, you had already sent Lando into a feral spiral, his mind thinking over nothing but you and your pretty face. 

There was a part deep down inside of Lando that felt a little…guilty for doing this. Like he was tricking you and making you think he was someone he wasn’t…but the feeling of desperation was overtaking it way quicker than Lando ever wanted. 

And, well…Lando wasn’t sure if it was desperation. The more he stared at your photos, the more he became hypnotised, fixated on one thing. You. This was desperation. No. This was an obsession. 

[selineram3421]

Hey? I just found your account and absolutely love it!

When you write with Alastor I always get this vibe from him:

And absolutely love for it 😭🥰

Oh my god.

Matched Search History

Prologue

Alastor X Writer Reader

Warnings⚠

⚠ Human AU, serial killer stuff so expect murder or mentions of it, oh and blood/gore, cussing, all caps for screeching/yelling, italics=thoughts, mentions of death, slight introvert reader ⚠

It wasn't your idea but your friend's.

There was a website that matched you with someone that had similar search history.

Currently, both of you were in the cafe with coffee and snacks, sitting at a two person table and having the usual friend hangout until she brought it up.

"Isn't that...a breach of privacy? How is this allowed?", you asked concerned.

"They only get what you give them! Like a questionnaire thing. You put down what you search and they set you up with someone!", she says and shows you the site on her phone.

"This is shady as fuck.", you say.

"Ok, maybe a little bit but you put what you want shared!", she smiles. "I mean you can meet another writer or someone who is super hot!"

Honestly you didn't know what to think of it, but maybe you could give it a shot.

I mean what's the worse that could happen? Haha..

"Ok..", you sighed and gave her the go to for making your account.

"Yay!", she squealed and started up a new profile. "Ok, so name, age, occupation..", she started typing furiously.

Once the basics were set up, she passed the phone to you to fill out the questionnaire.

At Matched Search History we only share what you give us! Any information you put into the system will be coded to find your Search History Partner, any other information you add in will also be added but stored away privately.

Please be aware that if any home address is added in the BIO or in MESSAGES it will be made public.

Yup. Shady shit right here. You thought and kept reading.

What do you search the most?

Answer: _______

You snort and type out murder techniques and first aid.

I'm definitely on the FBI list. You smile.

After taking care of the first one, you put down recipes, art and art history, science, little things like radio technology and other in depth research. You also make sure to put down cats.

"Here.", you hand the phone back.

"Wow that's a lot.", your friend scrolls down your list.

"What did you expect? I do a lot of searching on my laptop for the littlest things.", you shrug.

"Yeah, should have expected that.", she nods and looks through her photo album in her phone.

Leaning on the table, you look as she scrolls for the perfect photo.

"Which one are you gonna pick?", you ask and take a sip of your coffee.

"That cute one where you're hugging a cat.", your friend replies.

"Nah. Put the Halloween one."

She stops scrolling to look you dead in the eye, only to see your smug grin.

"No."

"Aw what? Come on!", you whine. "It'll be funny!"

"No! You're covered in fake blood!", she rejects the idea.

"But think of it! It would be fucking hilarious.", you nudge her arm.

"No and that's final! I'm putting this one!", she says and adds a photo without looking.

.

You honestly forgot about the account you both made until you got a bunch of emails about the website finding your match. You ignored most of them as they didn't go over 70%, that was until you saw the one you got today.

"What?", you asked with a mouth stuffed with noodles, being in the middle of eating lunch.

Picking up your phone, you check the email and feel your eyes widen.

You immediately called your friend.

"DUDE!"

"What?", she asks.

"THERE'S A HOT GUY WHO MATCHED 98% WITH ME!! WHAT DO I DO!?!?"

"Send me his pic! Duh!", she replies.

You take a screenshot of his profile picture and send it over.

"HOLY SHIT! I KNOW WHO THAT IS!!!"

"Who is it?", you ask.

"Don't you listen to his podcasts!?", your friend screeches. "He's the hot voice talking about murder mysteries and other creepy shit! You always listen to him while writing!"

"Huh, so this is him?", you ask. "How do you know? You hate hearing creepy stuff."

"I got bored one day.", she says.

Understandable. You thought. "Ok but back onto the topic. WHAT DO I DO!?"

"Send that love message to meet up!", she replied.

You deadpanned.

I have to go outside? I mean it wouldn't be bad if we went to a cafe or library. Maybe a bookstore... You thought.

"Fine. Since we already know his face he won't be able to run far if anything happens.", you said, making up your decision.

"Geez, don't talk like you're about to die.", your friend groaned.

"What? It's true.", you say. "Statistically, women are more likely to get killed on a date. Which doesn't rule out males but it does happen."

"UGH! Send me pics of what you're going to wear already!", she demanded.

.

You sat on a bench near a bus stop, messaging your friend. It was the best location for you to wait, there were multiple people around and restaurants with cameras.

Not gonna find out my address~ You sang in your head as you messaged your "match" that you had arrived.

You messaged him a brief description of your features and what you were wearing, so that way he wouldn't go around like a headless chicken trying to look for you.

Just in case things went south, you had a back up outfit to change into.

As you waited, a sudden thought came up.

Why was he on the dating site MSH? You wondered. Maybe his friend also pressured him to make a profile or someone else.

Then another thought.

What if it isn't him and someone just used a random photo they found to put up? You frowned at that. I hope that's not the case. That would be very annoying to deal with.

"Now, I hope that I'm not the reason my date is wearing a frown."

Turning your head to see who had decided to approach you, you saw a familiar face and warm reddish copper eyes. He was dressed very nicely, white button up long sleeve, dark red knit sweater vest, black pants, and black looking dress shoes.

"I'm Alastor.", he smiled. "And you are my date for this evening, yes?"

Damn it. You thought, trying to keep a straight face. He looks like a bookish nerd and that is definitely my type.

You stood up from the bench and gave a smile back.

"Nice to meet you.", you greeted and then introduced yourself.

Thank you for bringing this to me. I have read this post but forgot about it until you brought it back.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @big-brother-problems @mistpurpl3 @chewbrry @willowbrookhoot @briethekitsune @alastorthirsty @sir-aadiboii @fuzzyturtlepaws @+?

ML II for Alastor🎙

[michibap]

jschlatt and a chronically offline gf

-i do not give a Fuck about where u guys meet

-all i know is that you two are introduced when he fails to stop himself from Actually laughing out lout when he sees you whip out a cracked to shit iphone 5c

-and while it's a bit of a rocky start, bc youre like 'WHO is this hairy motherfucker and WHY is he laughing at me',

-you two find you actually have quite a bit of common ground

-the conversation flows fairly well, with the two of you sharing similarly dry senses of humor and a mutual appreciation for retro technology

-you listen to him ramble on about some game you've never heard of and he listens to you talk about a cool book you're reading that has a similar plot

-he notices you kinda just smile and nod when he makes some pop culture references that would usually get him some laughs, but he brushes it off

-maybe the two of you get separated at some point, with promises to pick up later

-but he doesn't see you again

-so he takes to the internet and tries to find your social media

-he kind of feels like a freak seeking you out like this, but something about you just drew him in

-what's the worst that could happen from him just looking up your name on a few social media platforms?

-and i'll tell you.

-coming up with fucking NOTHING

-and he feels fucking crazy because there's NO WAY that he can't find you any where

-he’s been making the internet his bitch since he learned to read

-if anyone should be able to find somebody on socials, it would be him

-but after tabbing through the search bar on five platforms, his goal shifts from finding your profile and shooting you a quick dm

-to proving that you exist

-and he’s not spiraling into schizophrenic mania

-he's checked instagram, twitter, snapchat, reddit, facebook, fucking myspace

-an hour later, he found himself scrolling through linked in and decided to put it to rest

-the only evidence that you're an actual human who exists is some article that you were in from when you were in high school, and you being in the profile picture of your mother's private facebook account

-and part of him feels a little bit like a creep after scouring the internet to find anything he can about the girl he talked to literally ONCE

-he decides to give up, resigning himself to the fact that if he was meant to find you, he would have by now

-so he lets it go, and goes about life as usual

-until around three days later, when he catches a vaguely familiar face in the crowd

-and he sees you see him too, looking a little confused, but nonetheless pleased to see him

-he forces himself to BUCK THE FUCK UP and ask for your number

-apologizes for seeming forward and sheepishly admits to not being able to find your socials

-gives you a confused look when you laugh,

“That tracks, I'm not into social media like that."

-you exchange phones to type in your respective numbers

-rolling your eyes when he makes fun of your home button

okay cutie headcanons NEOW

-your first date is obvi at an arcade

-and it smells like feet and there are offputting teenagers at every turn, but you two have a blast playing games together and trying to sabotage one another

-him choosing the stupidly huge stuffed gorilla off the prize wall and turning to you with a cheesy grin

"I don't know what you think this is, but I am not taking that fuckin' thing home."

-he shrugs, handing it off to you

-smile growing larger when you accept it with open arms despite your frown, struggling to hug it to your chest due to it's absurd size

"You hafta."

"Where am I supposed to put it?"

-another shrug,

"I dunno, 's why I'm giving it to you."

-him laughing and struggling to push the plush away as you shove it in his face, attempting to force him to take it back,

"No, I will NOT allow this creature to fuck with my feng shui."

"NO TAKE BACKS"

-he finds out you carry a digital camera on you bc your phone will actually explode if you try to take a picture with it

-and he just KNOWS he's finally found someone to match his freak

-cutie disposable camera pics :(((

-u letting him go through your photo albums and he's cheesing, picking up the pictures with such care, not wanting to ruin them but wanting to get a closer look

-forcing him to get out of the house by noon and touch grass

-and he'll groan and grumble as you drag his ass out of bed

-but some of his favorite moments with you are in an ambient cafe or at the park, people watching, getting some work done, or just enjoying one another's presence

-reading to him 🤭 and him giving commentary on whatever you read

-"Have you heard about-"

"Probably not."

-him dragging you kicking and screaming back onto the internet (you don't actually mind)

-just bc the content is so good

-making you sit beside him while he scrolls through his reddit or tiktok submissions

-and when you're inevitably confused and a little disturbed he'll go on a tangent to explain why what he's showing you is funny

-multiple viral clips of him explaining internet lore to you

"This one goes all the way back to vine-"

"Oh, I remember vine!"

"Pause, you were on vine?"

"No."

-chat's only real access to you is through him, not even the sleuthiest internet stalkers are able to find you

-so ofc they're all vying for your attention on the occasion that you appear on stream

-you stop in to drop off a snack or water or sth and he's like

"Wait stay 🥺"

and you're like

"No."

-so the internet watches him wrangle you into a bean bag chair and just chill there for the rest of the stream

-sometimes you'll interact and give input, most of the time it's not too dissimilar from having one of the cats in the background

-with you just chilling doing your own thing in the background, often with one of the said cats curled in your lap

-the internet screaming and crying and shitting its pants because they KNOW there's untapped jambo and [redacted] content on your phone that they'll never get to see

-i feel like the disconnect between his work and his personal life (you) could kind of be a double edged sword

-bc on one end, when he's with you he gets to completely remove himself from anything work related and really unwind

-on the other, sometimes the two of you will struggle to relate to one another bc of how differently your work and social lives operate

-anyways

-chatting on stream and he has to scramble to clap a hand over your mouth bc you still don't quite have the "influencer" rules down, like not providing any real names or locations or anything like that

-there being a certain subsection of viewers who are dedicated to finding out everything they can abt u which is kinda freaky

-but it makes casually dropping lore sososo fun

-him ranting about twitch/youtube beef or whatever and he's using people's usernames instead of real names out of habit

-there's a break in his tirade and he turns to where you're sitting at the counter, listening very intently and nodding

"Right, right... and these are people we're talking about?"

-traveling with him 😭

-he was completely prepared to be leading you around japan

-but you've been without iphone for so long that you still have the lost skill of rawdogging the world

-he gets the two of you lost by getting on the wrong train, because some app something or other was lagging

-the train dropping you off at some fuckass station in rural Japan and he's panicking but you BOSS that shit

-him being nervy about you meeting his friends because he KNOWS they might seem a little odd to any other traditionally adjusted adult

-nd you having to be like "I put up with your shit all the time."

-and of COURSE it goes well because why wouldn't it

- “who put this regular-ass cat in the zoo”

-he thinks it was a success

-until you call him a rizzler in the car on the way home

-him freezing and turning in his seat to stare at you for a beat

"... Who taught you that?"

"I've been sworn to secrecy."

-coming to your apartment the first time and being a little appalled at the fact that you still watch cable television

"I don't know how you fuckin' live with these ads every three seconds..."

"The TV is usually only on when you're here, my love."

-CLOCKED

-you have a really old pc set in your house for when you have to answer emails at home

-im talking like iMac G3

-he's figuring out how to stream on that shit, he doesn't care if it KILLS HIM

-overall

-i think chronically offline gf would be his PEACE

-no sigma, no rizz, no skibbidi toilet

-bringing in a sense of normalcy that grounds him in a way he didn't even know he needed

[mylifestylearedilfs]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ joost klein x tinder date!reader ࿐ྂ

ੈ✩‧₊˚ OCEAN EYES : mention of sex (but no smut) fluff ; use of alcohol ; imagine ; all is fictional ; english is not my first language

(part two)

, , ,

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ CREATING AN ACCOUNT on tinder wasn’t on your to do list, but after another failed attempt on meet your future ‘husband’ in real life, you decided to seek luck at this app. after choosing your best pictures, you set your profile with hope that you wouldn’t have to text with all of those weirdos that probably were on this site, asking themselves why i don’t have girlfriend?

you honestly couldn’t understand people (mostly the whole alfa men) on this kind of platforms, where they acted like they’re better than everyone else, but in reality they wouldn’t even say ‘hi’ to you. also what’s the point of having a dating app, if you can’t even properly ask the other person to date. you personally hated texting, it was the worst way to communicate, because you weren’t able to show your emotions clearly and it was easier to misunderstand the intentions.

you tried to ignore all suspicious looking people, but you lose hope, when even people your type were weird or impolite towards you. you were close to just delete app and forget about everything that happened. but then you received some kind of ‘super like’ from very good looking blonde man, the first thing that caught your attention was his bright blue eyes. how ironic, you thought. blonde hair and blue eyes, if he were a girl, he definitely would be miss universe. but god knew that he would be too powerful if he was a woman.

before you even checked his profile, you saw that he already messaged you. he already had big plus, because it was usually you who needed to start a conversation.

‘you & me, beer in an hour?’ okay, he definitely was really straightforward but you couldn’t tell that you didn’t liked it.

‘okay’

it was an irresponsible decision, but you couldn’t care less right now. you were truly tried of the endless conversations about nothing, you needed some adrenaline in your life. and even if it turn out that he’s a murderer, you will have an interesting story to tell your future kids — of course if you will survive in that scenario.

, , ,

it was almost twenty minutes after the set time, but you still waited like a fool, because you were curious if you were just scammed at this point. when your second cigarette started to slowly gutter out, you checked your phone to see if he tried to inform you about his lateness, but as you thought — nothing. you were honestly irritated that you couldn’t met a proper guy, not even for a relationship but just good sex, apparently you just missed to have someone close, in physical and mental way.

fuck it. you said to yourself and deleted this stupid dating app, right after you did that, you heard someone’s calling your name. before you turned around, you throw out a cigarette.

“i get it that i’m late, but you don’t have to ignore me” you saw the blonde guy in front of you, with two bottles of wine in his hands and two beer cans in his jeans pockets.

“so your real miss universe, nice to meet you” you said with a bit of irony in your voice, and he just laughed, giving you bootle of alcohol.

“or maybe i’m just in your imagination, guess we will never know” he said with smile, and you realised that he loved to laugh a lot, but honestly that was exactly what you needed now. some positive energy. “but now let’s go, shall we?”

, , ,

at first it was supposed to be quick meeting to get each other better and then probably forget about the existence of each other. but to your surprise it turned out that you were sitting in some sketchy looking place with joost for almost four hours already, and the fun only began.

you couldn’t believe that your perfect type of person was right in front of you and he was interested in you, which was the most unbelievable part. he was the first person that could make you laugh only by saying something random, or maybe it was because you were under the influence of weed, that you just smoked. either way his ability to turn every little thing into a joke was hilarious and you simply loved it.

suddenly you both became silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable for you, which was also something new. all you could hear was the sound of wind and some other birds but you decided to interrupt the silence.

“you want to come to my place?” you said without thinking twice, well. . . let’s be honest your brain wasn’t working at all at the moment.

“to do what?” he looked at you with his typical smirk, sipping his beer.

“obviously to play monopoly” you said sarcastically, but underneath you had a little smile. “i want you to fuck me” you added and he seemed to be taken aback with your directness, as he watched you getting up.

“so you’re coming or i will need to please myself on my own?” you said, walking slowly in the direction of your house.

“you don’t need to tell me twice” he quickly said and you just chuckled as you felt his hands on your waist.

that was a great match, for sure.

, , ,

⇢ ˗ˏˋ thank you for attention! hope you liked it!

[marvelouslizzie]

unconventional methods - chapter 1

Summary: Bucky Barnes has a big problem: he is too anxious to date and too old school to enjoy porn. But he needs some kind of relief, and he needs it right now.

After getting an accidental boner during a mission, Natasha suggests him an application that seems to be exactly what he needs.

Will your content solve the problem for him? Or will it create new problems?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes x Adult Content Creator Reader)

Word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, sex deprivation, adult content creation, sexy lingerie, sexy photos and videos, male masturbation, self-doubt, overthinking, flirting, sexting, sending explicit content to each other, pet names, mutual masturbation, jealousy, feeling possessive (nothing toxic), hiding the real identity, no mention of y/n.

A/N: This was such a random idea but as I started to think about it, more details came to me. After a point, it became impossible not to write.

In this story, Bunny is the reader but we view most of the story from Bucky’s side so there’s no use of you during the story. We don’t know what the reader is up to, how she feels about stuff. Only as much as Bucky knows or sees. That’s why the reader is mentioned as she mostly.

>> indicates incoming messages and << indicates outgoing messages in this story.

This story is not exactly how it seems but I don’t want to spoil it by revealing things too soon. Just stick around, if you wanna know how things will turn out to be.

Again, a big thank you to @notafunkiller for helping me every step of the way. She helped me the moment I felt stuck or something felt off, beta read the whole story and turned this into a readable piece. Thanking her won’t be enough. I would literally add her as a co-writer if that was possible on Tumblr.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Every like, comment and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me as long as it’s not a hate comment. They are never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he should do this. He looked at the paper Natasha handed him and then back at the screen again. The internet browser was open for a while, but he couldn’t decide what to do. It felt weird to be in this position. It didn’t feel right… but why was it wrong again? She was sharing her own content: whatever she was comfortable with. They were all there for people to see if they wanted to, right? He took a deep breath, started to type the link Natasha wrote down for him, and pushed enter quickly before he changed his mind.

The page loaded quickly, but all he could see was her profile picture and the header. There was a huge subscribe button and under it, he could see how many posts she had, different subscription options, etc. He scrolled back up to look at her photos. They were not clickable, but her profile picture was her in blue lingerie and cute bunny ears, which made him smile for a second. Then he looked at the header. She was on all fours, staring directly into the camera. It was a different look. Not that “I’m trying to look sexy” look that usually turned him off when it came to porn. It felt genuine somehow. How genuine it could be under these circumstances…

He looked at her profile picture for a while, thinking what could go wrong? A lot of people were doing this, weren't they? Some people were making money, some were paying for it. It wasn't that different from buying a dirty magazine. No, actually this was better because she had all the creative control over her own content. She was the one putting it out there. If that was not consent, then what was? He quickly created an account for himself, using a new email account like Natasha suggested. He didn’t need anyone to find out about this.

The next part felt like falling into a rabbit hole because dear god… She looked gorgeous! She had some free content that didn’t show much. Different poses in different lingerie. The photos were serving their purpose, making you want to subscribe and see more… of her. So he kept looking for a while.

There was something about her that made her so much more attractive, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He clicked next, looking at her pic in front of the mirror, with her legs wide open, but not actually showing anything. The slight smile on her face was warm and inviting. He knew he had no other option than to subscribe and see all of her content. He needed to see more.

The process didn't take long. After unlocking the special content, he just stared at the screen. How can she be real? He palmed his face, feeling nervous like he was on a first date with this attractive woman. He knew he wasn't. She was way out of his league, but he still felt nervous and intrigued while checking out all the content. There were so many different options and he didn’t know where to start.

At first, he decided to go slow and just check a couple of nude photos. The pics were in order, showing her getting rid of one piece of clothing with each new shot. It started with her fully dressed, looking super sexy: short skirt, modest cleavage, looking all cute. First, the skirt was gone, then her top, and she was left standing in her pastel pink lingerie that covered her chest completely, but it was lacy and see-through. It was fitting her like it was custom-made. He couldn’t stop himself and kept swiping, finding different concepts. His cock was pressed against his pants, aching for attention as he was unable to look away.

After spending god knows how long on her profile, Bucky finally couldn’t take it anymore. This was the point of all this, wasn’t it? Creating the need at the right time to please himself, so he wouldn’t get random erections during the missions… He unzipped himself and finally freed his cock. Still, his hands didn’t go there directly. He kept looking at her profile, discovering other features: like videos she uploaded while getting off!

“Dear god…” He gulped after seeing the thumbnail. She had a dildo in her hand. There was no way he was not going to click on this. No way!

He watched her taking her sweet time, teasing herself and, of course, the viewers, then getting really wet and adding lube on top of it before she pushed the dildo inside. The moan she let out sent a powerful jolt through his whole body. It was so beautiful and felt so fucking authentic, nothing like those fake, unrealistic porn moans. They were always a huge turn-off. This, on the other hand, was too much to handle. His cock was dripping so much precum, begging him for some attention. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this turned on. Either it never happened or it was so long ago, it doesn’t matter anymore.

He finally reached for the lube, poured a generous amount into his flesh hand, and quickly grabbed his cock. 

“Fuck.” It felt so sensitive. Like he had been edged for the last hour. Maybe he had been… after all the content he went through.

His fingers were loose, moving up and down slowly while the most beautiful girl he ever laid eyes on was pleasing herself on the screen. He didn’t want this to end too soon. He wanted to take his sweet time and maybe imagine she was the one doing this to him. That was a nice image: her between his legs, looking up at him with those big eyes while she moved her hand up and down slowly, torturing him, not letting him come until she said so.

His breath shuttered at the thought, his fingers moving faster than before, like they have their own mind. His cock was grateful, but no, he didn’t want to come before the video was done. Somehow it felt like disappointing your date during your first sex.

Luckily, she started to shatter, moaning as she came on the dildo she was riding. And the noises she made immediately sent him over the edge. 

“F-f-fuck,” he slurred as he started to come. It felt good, really good. He lost himself in pleasure and kept stroking until he emptied himself. Until he felt that overstimulation creeping in. That was when he noticed he closed his eyes. When he opened them back up, the video was done and the black screen with a play again button welcomed him. 

Disappointment washed over him. She wasn't there with him. Even if he came before the video was done, she wouldn’t know. There was no one to disappoint. He was alone in his bedroom, jerking off to a computer screen, but in his defense, the girl was hot. Really hot.

He took a deep breath, letting himself enjoy the afterglow. That was the point of all this: enjoying small stuff like satisfaction without going through the tedious process of meeting new people. He reached for the wet wipes and cleaned himself quickly. As he clicked the exit button on the video, he saw another one. It must be old because she looked a bit younger, and her hair was a little lighter. Also, it looked like a short one so he clicked on it.

“Hey. Thank you so much for subscribing.” This was the first time he heard her voice. It was soft and calm. “I know this isn’t conventional, but I enjoy sharing content like this. Don’t judge me if you don’t wanna be judged, okay?” She winked and god, it was adorable. “I'll try to share new content every Wednesday. I hope to see you here. Feel free to message me if you like. Take care.”

If he hadn’t come thirty seconds ago, he would have gotten hard again after hearing her voice. He was glad even the super soldier serum had some limits. Before his body could recover from his intense orgasm, he closed the window and decided to go take a shower.

-------

The next week passed in a blur. There were missions, briefings, and someone’s birthday… He didn’t care whose. It was not someone from the main team, that was all he knew. He was eating his cake in the corner, minding his own business when Natasha sat next to him.

“Hey.” She tried to sound as casual as possible.

“Hey.”

“You look better.”

Bucky looked at her confused.

“Does that supposed to be a compliment, Romanoff?”

“It’s a simple statement, Barnes. It looks like you took my advice and gave yourself a break.” Bucky averted his gaze from her. “No accidental erections during missions, congrats.”

“It was one time, Natasha. One time. When will you let it go?”

“Whenever you tell me about your… experience.”

“My experience?” He looked back at her, with the same confused expression all over again.

“I wanna know if you liked her or not. I don’t need details.”

“Why do you care so much about it? She’s just a random girl.” He lied to her. She wasn’t. At least not to him. He had been checking her account anytime he got a chance. This whole week, he had been masturbating more than he ever did before. Sometimes even the thought of her was turning him on so randomly, he was starting to get worried, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself from checking for updates.

She was sharing content very regularly. Sometimes they were new photoshoots, and sometimes just random cute photos in pajamas. He didn’t know which content he was looking forward to the most. All he knew was he loved how genuine it felt she was.

“I’m just noisy. So tell me…”

“Yes, Natasha, I like her. She’s cute and hot, exactly what I was looking for. What do you want, a thank you?”

Bucky really had no idea how Natasha managed to hit the bull's eye when she suggested this girl to him. She was absolutely his type, so he could say thank you for this, but nothing more.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you.” It was Natasha’s turn to feel confused because in all the time they spent together with Barnes, he never once thanked her. This was a first.

“Wow. You really like her.” She sounded proud of herself.

“Hey, Buck!” The moment Bucky heard Sam’s voice, he jumped off the couch. He didn’t want to spend another minute talking about his irrational crush with Natasha. It was pointless.

-------

As the time passed, Bucky felt like he was addicted to her content. He was checking his phone much more often than before, just to see if she shared something. He didn’t notice it until Sam pointed it out and asked if he got a girlfriend or something. He quickly denied that possibility, finding a lame excuse. He wasn’t sure if Sam bought it or not, but he definitely needed to check his phone less often. 

When he came back home, he felt so tired. The whole day was full of meetings and he let himself be consumed by the details just not to think about her. It was Wednesday, which meant new content,  yet he still tried to stay away from his phone. 

He literally consumed every content she ever shared. There was no photo or video on her profile he didn't see. There were some he masturbated to more than once. He just wanted to take a step back and if he could manage this, he would feel less of a creep. The problem was he was home and he had nothing to do.

He tried to distract himself with food at first, and it only worked for 15 minutes. Then he took a shower, which took even less. Watching television didn’t even last more than 5 minutes, so he decided to go to sleep, but his mind kept wandering to her. He wanted to know what she shared and how she looked. Finally, he gave in and opened her profile… to see nothing. Since yesterday she shared literally nothing. That was so unlike her. She shared something every day and she never missed Wednesdays. He didn’t care about the lack of new content. It worried him that he doesn’t know if she was alright. Why wouldn’t she be? Maybe she was busy. He tried to calm himself down but falling asleep was impossible.

Then he made a promise to himself: if she won't share anything by noon the next day, he would message her. That thought calmed him down a little.

-------

The next day, Bucky forgot that he was trying to avoid checking his phone in public. His body was at work, but his mind was stuck on… her. He kept looking at her profile to see something, anything to assure himself you’re alright, but there was literally nothing. Complete silence. When it was finally noon, he had no patience left. Normally, he wouldn’t even consider sending a message, but he was just worried. And it didn’t occur to him that it was not his place to be concerned about this woman. 

He opened her profile and clicked on the direct messages feature. His mind was completely blank. He had no idea what to say, looking at the screen for a couple of seconds as he trying to collect his thoughts.

“Hey.” That’s all he could come up with. How to say you are worried about someone who has no idea you even exist? It was ridiculous, but there was no way he could just wait and do nothing. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I hope you are alright. You have been absent lately. It could be something totally personal, I know that, but you never miss Wednesdays. So I wanted to check in to see if you are fine. I really hope you are.”

He took a deep breath after he pressed send. It was a long shot for sure. He didn’t really expect an answer. Maybe a seen. And that would be more than enough.

-------

An unfamiliar chime got Bucky’s attention. It surely came from his phone, but he never heard that sound before. When he took his phone out and saw the notification, his heart skipped a beat, just for a second. It was a message from her. The nervous feeling spread through his body like poison, sweat pooling on his forehead before he even clicked on it.

>> Hey, handsome. Thank you for checking in. I have been a bit busy and sick at the same time. Not the best combo. Sorry for missing the content day. I will make it up next Wednesday.

Bucky looked at the message, a bit confused. He wasn’t interested when the new content was gonna drop. He just wanted to know if she was okay. Being busy and sick at the same time didn’t look so. Content should have been the last thing she should be worried about.

<< I’m not worried about the content, darling. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.

He definitely didn’t expect her to respond this quickly, it didn’t even take a minute.

>> Really? I thought you’d miss me.

She was talking like she knew him personally. Like they have chatted before. It was weird and comforting at the same time.

<< I did miss seeing your cute little face, I’m not gonna lie, but I didn’t message you for that. Content can wait until you feel better.

>> My cute little face is a little bit unpresentable and I appreciate your concern. It’s refreshing to see someone actually cares how I am feeling instead of why I did not share anything lately.

<< I’m sure your cute little face is still the cutest thing on the face of the earth. I wouldn’t worry about being presentable.

>> Get ready for a jumpscare. 

He had no idea what that meant, but the text was followed by a selfie: her, in bed, looking rather exhausted, with a messy bun, cute pajamas, and a cup of tea in her hand. Bucky quickly googled what jumpscare means and came back to the messaging screen.

<< You clearly don’t know what jumpscare means. It would be me, in a dark hallway or an alley. That’s real jumpscare. This is a cute lady who needs a bit of time to recover.

>> First darling, now cute lady. Are you sure you aren’t 60 years old?

<< Why, do you have an age limit?

>> For my content? No. << And for other stuff?

>> The answer is still no, but are you?

<< 60? No. I’m 107.

>> How do you know how to use the app at 107? 

That question made Bucky laugh a little, but he chose to be honest.

<< If I don’t know something I just google it.

>> Shouldn't you be semi-dead at 107?

<< I should be fully dead yet I’m still here.

>> Your profile says 33. Why are you lying handsome?

<< Believe me, my body and soul are older than 33.

>> I kinda believe that because you are talking differently.

<< Is it why you are answering my messages?

>> That and I feel a bit lonely. Your message sounded cute. I usually end the conversation before it gets too far.

<< What’s too far for you?

>> When they start demanding private pictures or try to sext.

Bucky had to google once again what sext means, just to be sure, and it was exactly what he thought it would be.

<< But you sent them to me.

>> Just one picture. A sick selfie and you didn’t ask for it. I thought it would turn you off really badly and you would say take care and end the convo.

<< I still think you look cute.

>> I am starting to believe you might be cute as well.

-------

Bucky had no idea how things got this far with her. After that message, they were literally sending texting each other daily. Just checking in, asking random stuff, or getting to know each other. It was not the same every day. Sometimes it was just a couple of messages and dead silence. Sometimes they communicated all day, non-stop, but Bucky didn’t mind. He didn’t mind not talking to her every day. Knowing that she was okay gave him a bit of peace. Just a good morning or a good night message was enough to ease his anxiety. 

>> Good morning, handsome.

That was the text he woke up to, that made him smile almost all day. Every time he remembered her calling him handsome or taking time to send a message to him, it made him happy. It made him feel different than others. He knew that was not the case. Maybe she kept talking to him because he didn’t make her uncomfortable. Maybe she talked to others too. He had no idea, but whenever he thought about her messaging someone else, he felt a faint pain in his stomach. He knew this feeling was irrational, so he avoidedto think about it as much as possible.

<< Good morning, bunny.

<< Is your favorite color pink? He randomly asked as he had been doing all week. The question came to him because he noticed she wore that color a lot.

>> No, it’s light blue. Why?

<< You wear pink a lot, that’s why I asked.

>> That’s what they like. Most men still think blue is a manly color.

<< You look divine in blue. It’s their loss really.

Her answer was a picture of her in blue lingerie. It surprised him because that photo was not on her profile. He remembered seeing this set, but not this exact photo. He kept looking at the pic for much longer than he should have. Another message woke him up from his trance.

<< I take that as you like it.

>> This photo is not on your profile.

<< No, it’s not.

>> But you feel fine sending it to me.

<< You said I look divine in blue. 

>> You do. I’m just surprised you sent me a photo you didn’t share before. I’m glad you feel comfortable.

<< I’m pretty comfortable talking to you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t talk to someone whose name I don’t know.

>> I don’t know your name either, bunny.

<< You are a smart man. Most assume this is my real name.

>> Using your real name would be an unnecessary risk.

<< Is that why you don’t call me Viv?

>> Maybe. I wasn’t doing it on purpose. Why are you calling me handsome?

<< I don’t know, I never really thought about it.

>> Yeah, exactly. You don’t know what I look like but you are calling me handsome.

<< I would love to see what you look like, but I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable.

>> I’m sure what you are imagining is much better than the reality, bunny.

<< Why do you call me bunny?

>> Because of your profile photo. The bunny ears. You look really cute.

-------

Bucky was in the middle of debriefing. After a really long mission, he was finally back in New York. He wondered if Bunny messaged him. That was what he’d been calling her in his mind for a while and suddenly, he realized it might be too weird. Was he getting too creepy? Too comfortable? They didn’t even know each other properly. The last time they talked, she asked him why he didn’t use Viv. Maybe that was a signal for him to go for the fake name instead of his nickname.

“Barnes.” Fury’s voice brought him back to reality.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you want to add anything else.” His voice was firm.

“No, no. Romanoff covered it well.”

“Good. Rest for a couple of days. We will be going back to finish what we started.”

When Bucky finally reached out for his phone, Natasha was smiling in the corner.

“Does he have a secret girlfriend?” Sam asked.

“Maybe. I have no idea.” She lied.

-------

>> Good morning, old man.

>> Busy day?

>> I got a funny story to tell you, but you aren’t around.

>> Please tell me I didn’t offend you with the nickname.

>> I am messaging you a lot, aren’t I? I should leave you alone.

>> I’m sorry…

Bucky’s heart was racing as he read the messages. He should’ve warned her about not being online for a while. Instead, she thought she did something wrong. He looked at the message screen, trying tocome up with a good response to assure her that he wasn’t offended. He was an old man after all. What was there to get offended?

<< Hey. I’m sorry. I was away for work. There was no signal. I did not see your messages before. 

<< Just know that you never bother me. You can message me as much as you want. Whenever you want and I will answer when I can.

<< And you know I should be the one to worry if I’m bothering you or creeping you out. Not you.

<< If you still wanna tell me that funny story, I’m here to listen, Viv.

Bucky wasn’t sure if she would reply. After all, she didn’t get a message from him for a while. Maybe he’d already lost his chance… But then his phone chimed.

>> Viv? Where did Bunny go?

>> 🐰

<< You want me to call you Bunny?

>> I got used to it.

<< Okay, Bunny. If that’s what you want.

This made him feel better. Maybe he was just overthinking. She didn’t seem to mind half of the things he was thinking about.

<< Should I get used to being called old man?

>> Does it bother you?

<< It doesn’t. I am an old man.

>> You are 33 if you didn’t lie while creating your profile.

<< Biologically, yes.

>> But you feel older, so you don’t mind.

>> I’m glad you are back.

<< I’m sorry that I didn’t warn you about work.

>> It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.

That last message broke his heart. He knew she was right. He didn’t owe her anything, but that wasn’t the reason why he was explaining himself. He was doing it because he wanted to, and a small part of him wanted to owe her an explanation. He also wanted her to owe him an explanation. Yet he knew that wasn’t the case.

<< Is that how you feel?

>> Isn’t that how I should feel? I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know what you look like. I just know I like talking to you. If that’s the only thing you are willing to do, then it’s fine by me. I mean you could be married or engaged and I wouldn’t know. So it’s fine, you don’t have to explain yourself.

Bucky looked at the message for a while, digesting what she was saying. She was right. She had no information about who he was while he had access to her all of her content and now private messages. She was completely exposed, and he didn’t even share his name with her. Why would she trust him? Why would she owe him any explanation at all?

<< It’s James.

>> Nice to meet you, James 🐰

>> You have such a beautiful name. 

-------

After he shared his name with her, something changed between them. Something subtle, but it meant a lot to Bucky. It felt like she was more open, and more curious now. 

>> What are you wearing?

Bunny’s question caught him off guard. He looked at himself in panic. He was sitting on the floor, only with his boxers on, so there was no way he could tell her the truth.

<< Pajamas, you?

>> What kind of pajamas? I’m guessing old man pajamas but…I never saw an old man in old-school pajamas. Maybe you can show me.

Shit, shit, shit.

Lying to her was a huge mistake. He had no pajamas to put on. He only had a couple of pants, and henleys, and maybe three jackets. Natasha always made fun of him for wearing the same stuff over and over again. She was trying to hit a nerve so he would go buy something new, but it didn’t work, of course. Now, he wished it did.

He started to panic a little, looking around to find a solution. I could cover my body, a voice in his head said. And that’s what he did. He laid down, covered himself with his blanket, and took the picture. His face wasn’t in the frame, just the tip of his chin. Since he shaved this morning, his dimple was showing. He used his vibranium hand to take the selfie, and in this way, it looked like a normal photo.

It was too late when he noticed the fact that he laying on the floor, not in bed was visible. He cursed to himself while waiting for her answer. There was no way she wasn’t going to comment about the absence of the bed. No way.

>>  I am not seeing any pajamas or your body, old man. It is that bad?

Bucky took a breath of relief. Maybe she did not even notice. After all, she wanted to see him. Maybe she didn’t even pay attention to his surroundings.

Or maybe she just didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. That thought changed his mind. He literally saw every part of her body. Sending a picture back in his boxers shouldn’t be a big deal, right? He stood up and extended his vibranium arm. The new selfie was quite similar except this time he was showing a lot of skin. Starting from the tip of his chin, he showed his upper body only. He looked at the photo before sending it: upper body and black boxers. No bare legs and no face.

>> I see no pajamas. And this body doesn't belong to an old man at all. Are you lying to me, James?🤨

He might have made a mistake by sending this picture. There was no way he could prove to her this is actually him. Especially after all that old man talk. While he was thinking about what he’s gonna do next, he got another message.

>> Cat got your tongue?

<< A bunny did actually.

>> You look good, James. Really good, but you don’t seem excited.

Her response confused him. 

<< Excited?

>> Maybe you need a photo to get excited.

Before he could ask what that means, she sent him a pic of her. Definitely not professionally taken. It’s her in front of the mirror, wearing only shorts and covering her naked breasts with one of her hands while taking the picture with the other. 

>> Hope this helps.

>> But if you wanna see more, you gotta share more.

<< You're very beautiful, bunny, but I hope you know this was not my intention. I was waiting for you to tell me that funny story.

Her response was another photo: a close up on her covered breasts. She looked like she was about to drop her hand and reveal it like he did not see them before.

>> I know.

>> So does this mean you're not excited? I was trying something here…

>> I can tell you the story if that’s what you’d rather do.

“Fuck…” Bucky cursed out loud. He was really good at this before. Flirting and finding the best possible response were easy back in the 40s, but it didn’t feel like that anymore. He was constantly worried about doing something wrong or creeping her out. He wanted to hear the story, but he really wanted to see her breasts too.

<< What do I have to do to see more?

>> I’ve just told you. Share more to get more.

Oh, so she wanted more photos of him, and he literally had no idea how to take flattering pictures.

>> Maybe start by showing me if the photos worked or not.

He looked down at himself and saw his rock-hard cock. How is he supposed to show her? Maybe I should mimic her photos. He touched the outline of his dick, making it a little more visible before taking a picture.

<< Is it clear enough?

>> Oh, you got really excited, didn’t you Jamie?

>> Not an old man after all.

He loudly groaned when he saw what she called him. Jamie. God! He felt a jolt of arousal the moment he read the nickname. He was sure he got even a little harder if that’s possible. 

Before he could find an answer, Bunny sent him another photo. This time her palm was stretched on her breasts, fingers not hiding much anymore, but still, her tits weren’t completely visible. Yet he could see how erect her nipple was. He already had a lot of dirty thoughts: like taking her nipple into his mouth and torturing her before giving in. He just didn’t know if he should voice them or not.

<< Oh, that nipple…

>> What about it?

<< You wanna hear what I am thinking about?

>> Well, since I’m trying to tempt you here… What do you think?

<< Fuck, Bunny. You have no idea what you are doing to me.

>> I am dying to hear it though.

Instead of telling her, Bucky decided to show her. He tried to position himself in front of the camera and take a good photo of his erection. He tried a couple of different angles, but it was a dick after all. Nothing he tried seemed to make it seem more appealing in his view. When he finally sent the picture, he added a small text.

<< How about I show you instead?

>> Oh my god!

>> You were hiding that from me all this time?

>> Damn, I feel robbed.

<< Does this mean you like it, doll?

>> Oh, that’s new.

>> And I like it.

>> Maybe even better than Bunny.

>> And yes, I am actually drooling right now even with that horrible angle. 

<< Horrible angle? How should I do this then? I never...

>> Do you want me to teach you, old man? Because I can.

<< I’m always open to learning new stuff. That’s the only thing you can always rely on.

>> Ohh, I love that. Open-minded, doesn’t mind taking criticism, no fragile masculinity. All very hot. 

>> Try taking a picture in front of the mirror maybe. Don’t take the picture from above or too down. Try to use eye level if you aren’t particularly doing something. That works better.

Using a mirror wasn’t a good idea for him. He could imagine the photos looking better like that, but there was no way he could hide his metal arm.

So instead of positionin his camera above, he tried to level it down, showing his full length and thickness. A photo didn’t seem to work so he decided to record a short video of him playing with himself: his flesh hand going up and down slowly on his full length. He couldn’t help but let a low moan when his hand brushed against the head. Fuck, imagining her seeing this… The idea turned him on even more. He got so excited that he forgot to check the video before sending it.

>> Fuck, James.

>> Fuck fuck fuck.

>> Your voice is so fucking hot.

>> And you are so aroused. Is it all for me?

<< It’s all for you, doll.

<< This is what you do to me. All the time. 

<< God, I wish you were here.

Bunny or Doll, he had no idea which one suits her better, sent a video as the response: her fingers, two of them, going in and out inside her. She was going pretty fast, indicating she had been doing this for a while, and there was a faint moaning in the background, which Bucky couldn’t get enough of. He watched the video twice before answering.

>> You are gonna be the death of me.

>> Are those fingers enough? Do you want a third one or maybe you would rather have a big dildo inside?

<< I would rather have you inside me.

After this point, everything felt like a blur. Things got out of hand, they kept exchanging photos and videos until they both got pretty powerful orgasms. Yet James found himself wanting more. So much more than she probably wanted to offer.

>>> Next Chapter

[itspyon]

how to adapt into dtblr culture for twitter refugees

so you've decided to move here from twitter. welcome and congratulations. this post is basically a big warning that goes THIS ISN'T TWITTER, DON'T BEHAVE LIKE IT IS, LEAVE THAT AT THE DOOR

i'll be teaching you two things, how the site works, and how to adapt your behavior to tumblr ( and really, normal human being ) culture. believe me, it's not that hard and it will actually feel very productive

let's start with the basics and frequent questions

your username can be anything, don't stress about it

your picture can be anything. a lot of us don't even have dteam related stuff up on our profile

your display name doesn't have to be your name. nobody is going to see it when you post, only usernames are visible

check your settings. do it. get familiar with them. turning on and off asks, turning anon off, turning submissions off. click on your blog, go to blog settings, check things there, go to account, your muted things will be there, go to dashboard and customize that. use your settings !!!

yes, pinned posts are fairly important and they tend to be pretty extensive. name age what you post about ( a lot of people here are multifandom !), just don't overshare ( no locations no trigger lists i beg you ). they also usually have a breakdown of your tags at the end

tags

it's a whole thing. some are actually useful. some are just passive commentary

the tags you put on posts ( both when you made the post and when you're reblogging something ) are both global and hosted on your profile. it's why you'll see things like "nameofperson art" rather than just "art". using just "art" will put you in the promoted tag, in this case

you can use spaces on your tags

usually you will tag what type of post you're making ( art, text post, ask post ), and then the contents keep in mind this is how people often mute things, some people tag the current situation, people use and mute ship tags. but this is also how people find things, like the specific asks from one person to another, so "username ask" is commonly used, "irl person ( dream, dnf, etc )" is also seen a lot just watch how others tag things and copy them. nobody will get offended you took their tag formatting, most of us will appreciate properly tagged posts

you do tag when you reblog people. you use tags to comment on things. don't really use replies unless you're, saying thank you to someone or pointing out a spell mistake or asking to add an option to a poll, etc. we don't do replies, just rb your reply

quick reblog and like deets

post popularity is measured in "notes" which is the sum of replies, reblogs and likes. we don't really care much about numbers here and if you start getting crazy about it people will not like it. this is more of a talking and showing site

you can reblog without tags, feel free to

you can hide your likes. you can and should like as many things as you want. they don't alter any algorithm, since there's none. a like is a "i saw this post" notification to the poster

actually posting

people talk a lot. a fucking lot, and it's something you will have to get used to, because it's very different from twitter

there are no qrts. callouts are looked down upon. breathe. if you don't like something MUTE IT DON'T POST ABOUT IT, because no one is going to listen to any callouts. you will have to learn to live with the fact people like things you don't. this will, with time, make you feel very free

the bulk of posting here is asks, as you might notice soon. asks are fun and encouraged. just don't name drop if you're talking about drama please ?

don't be scared to send asks off anon, this is how people will find you and get to know you really. people are also more likely to reply to you

block bait anons. yes you can block anons. yes it will block every blog they make

culture time

i've said this. tumblr is unserious. drama here is approached very differently and with several less layers of panic. you will see death threats. you will see slurs ( said in non derogatory ways ). you will see jokes about serious topics. you will see people say "i didn't like this" and nobody will care

tumblr is a community of individualism. you will like your own things within the thing we share we like. you might not like dream's music, you might not find irl streams entertaining, as long as you're fucking normal about it ? nobody will care and you're free to express your opinions. people will even come ask you about it and just have a chat. we're here for the same content to some degree

tumblr is also a bunch of people who understand they like another bunch of people. that none of the streamers have stopped being human. so you might see people defend things that, maybe, you'd not have thought to defend before. maybe you're even uncomfortable seeing them defending it. this is something you will experience a lot, and you'll learn to properly deal with it as time passes

because again. no one does callouts here unless it is extremely bad. no one cares if you don't really like them. and they also accept people might and will not like them. and that is fine. and that doesn't make either person horrible. you're just different people. and you don't even have to interact

you want to make friends ? ask people things, compliment people's work, genuinely attempt to make conversation. this is not an impersonal website the way twitter is. people don't care about your opinions because they care about you, and you are more than what you don't like

the more positive and jokey and interactive you are the more people will talk to you. there's no "hitting the algorithm", there's no "engagement", it's just people talking to people. so don't be a neg posting bot, and be a person

you will learn to be less miserable. you learn to stop giving a shit and just do what makes you happy. they cannot get you here. there's no qrts. the few antis you'll find can be blocked and you'll never have to directly interact with one. don't be mean to the people in your own community, even if you disagree

again, you are more than what you don't like. learn to be what you like instead. and leave the dooming at the door

[theswiftheartsystem]

Guide to Pluralkit

So pluralkit is a tool used very commonly for plural systems. Basically what it does is proxy who’s speaking (this can have an alters name, pronouns, a custom profile picture, ect.) it’s very easy to use once you get the hang of it!

Step 1. Make yourself a private discord server. The reason why is because that way it’s easier to edit and save what you need in the server.

after this you will need to add pluralkit to the server. You can do this by going to the website (https://pluralkit.me) or clicking the bot in a server you share with it, and adding it to your server.

Okay so after that, set up your server. All it needs is the channels you guys need. Obviously general can be whatever, we use it for bot commands. Would recommend a system chat channel, especially if you cannot speak internally. Other channels that might be helpful, or channels to store picrews and things of that nature, we have one for storing alter intros, if you don’t want to have a psychical diary, you could start one in the private server, and basically anything you need. The idea is that this server only has you guys in it

Step 2. Okay so you’ll need to set up a system now. To get started you’ll need to do pk;s new keep in mind you can only have one system per discord account, and only 1k members (we have heard you can request more in the discord server, but we haven’t tried it ourselves)

Most system servers require a system tag. To set one you do pk;s tag (tag here) tags can be anything in a character limit. Ours is 💙. Some servers don’t like when people have the same tag, so if you need to change it in a server you can do pk;s server tag (tag here)

After setting up your system to add a member you do pk;m new (members name) keep in mind you want it to be one word with no spaces or hard to use symbols. This is so it’s as easy as possible to edit. Also would like to add, if you throw in a image while doing this command, it will set that alters avatar without having to do another command (image below is a random image we had saved) if you are like us, and have alters that share names, it’s best to just add a number (no space still) infront, this makes it way easier to edit.

To set up a display name you do pk;m (members name) dn (what you want it to say, we normally have name and pronouns, and if a alter has like a specific role in the system, sometimes that gets added if the alter wants it)

If you accidentally set the wrong profile picture, or a alter wants a different one for whatever reason, the command is pk;m (name) avatar and then insert the photo

Finally to set a proxy do pk; (member name) proxy (proxy here)text (the text can also be behind the poxy, it just has to be behind or above) proxys can be anything basically! We usually use emojis, although whatever you do, make it something you don’t use. For emojis we have one or two emojis typically that represent the alter, and then the blue heart emoji in front that way if it’s a emoji we use a lot, it isn’t going to proxy us by accident. You can either do the proxy everytime you speak, or do a few commands.

Pk;ap latch this latches to the last used proxy. Good when one alter is having a conversation, but others aren’t.

Pk;ap (name) this latches to the alters name that is used. Does not change until turned off, or switched to a different alter, or auto proxy command.

Pk;ap front this command sets whoever is set as fronting as the auto proxy. The front is set by doing pk;switch (name) To turn off all of these the command is Pk;ap off

Step 3. With pluralkit you can add alters to groups!

To make a group you do pk;g new (groups name) like with the base names you want it to be one word, no spaces or weird symbols.

with groups you can set display names, descriptions, avatars, just for that group!

pk;g description (put the description you want with the command)

pk;g avatar (photo)

pk;g dn (name)

To add members to the group do pk;g (groups name) add (name) (name 2) you can add as many as you want, just make sure to not use commas or and, just name after name separated by a space

Step 4. To set a system/alter description and banner is pretty easy.

For system:

pk;s description (desc goes here)

pk;s banner (add image)

For Alters:

pk;m (name) description (desc goes here)

pk;m (name) banner (add image)

Step 5. Finally, some good commands to just know.

If you react with a question mark emoji on an alter using pluralkit, it gives you information about the person. (Username, ect)

If you have a member you feel needs to be private the command is pk;m (name) private

to delete a member you do pk;m (name) delete and then enter in the code it gives you

to change a alters base name, (not dn) do pk;m (name) rn (new name)

A fun little pluralkit game is going “pk;r (random silly thing here)” Pk;r randomly picks a alter, so putting a random caption over it can be fun sometimes.

if you do set a alters name as something with a space, you’ll have to edit it in qoutes. (Pk;m “Example name with a space” (command)

to look up a list of alters do pk;m list or pk;s list

Thanks for reading! Pluralkit is confusing at first, so we thought we would make a simple guide!

-Carrie + a few others

[selyeji]

jersey

fermin lopez x reader (requested)

summary : love at first sight or was it love at first concert?

warnings : none

daily click to help palestine

a/n : decided to move shorter notes here !

the atmosphere of the stadium was filled with cheers from culers. with the score up by 2-1, recently scored by fermin lopez. you sat down with a few friends, using your hands to rest your chin

your music was quite popular, and currently in a tour. since you arrived a few days early, there was time to burn and decided to appear in a barcelona match.

as the team goes back to their positions from celebrating. the cameraman seems to catch you, angling the camera to you sitting in the stands. you smile back and wave, pulling one of your friends in to also be angled in the monitor.

fermin raises his head to view the screen, his eye catches your face, sweetly smiling. before he knew it, the game has started, he swiftly got back to his senses and started to watch the ball and move.

once the match ended, you sighed out of relief. the heat and temperature in barcelona was definitely not made for you. you stood up right away, wanting to flee the situation.

fermin went to the changing rooms, taking his time in switching clothes. exhausted from the match, he decided to use his phone a bit. he sat on a chair, shirtless. scrolling through instagram, looking at match posts. unconsciously trying to find your name, or any post about that band on the screen.

his eye finally catches one, with the headline

“music artist y/n attends fc barcelona vs atletico madrid game… see more.”

luckily for him, your ig account was already tagged. giving him easier access to your profile. your feed was either filled with selfies and photos with your friends, your pet or music.

it was obvious you played the guitar way more. deciding to check your story, you posted a picture of camp nou inside from an hour ago. the grass green as ever, culers in the background and the net visibly seen.

there was no way you could’ve seen his specific profile with hundreds seeing your story, fermin thought. oh how wrong he was, once you got back to your hotel room. you laid on the bed, white cold sheets touching your warm skin. your hair messed up as you scroll through social media.

your notifications blowing up, usually tags from sports and music news after your appearance in a game. deciding to check your story likes, you come across a profile.

blue checkmark. an athlete? now thats a new one. he didn’t like the story itself but his profile was placed above the others. he probably just wanted to know whoever you were, you thought and brushed it off.

getting up while tying your hair. re-tuning your guitar strings to get your mind distracted. plugging your earphones to your guitar, not wanting to distract people in other rooms as you practice.

you had your entire songs memorized but it didn’t hurt to practice. it always bothered and kept you paranoid if you ever mess up, not wanting to do that same mistake on stage.

music always kept you at ease, it gave you a way of escaping reality. when your parents bought you your first acoustic guitar, your hands never left it alone. always practicing chords, doing finger practices and so-on.

of course your parents noticed this, deciding to gift you any music related items. they supported your career all the way through.

deciding it was already late, you did your skincare routine and went to sleep. there were still parts of barcelona you wanted to explore tomorrow, after all it was a big lively city.

fermin already wide awake early on the morning, driving his way to camp nou. training doesn’t stop even after a win or not. his phone bluetooth connected to the cars speaker, blasting your music. he heard a few of your songs before but never listened to an entire album.

his finger lightly tapping on the steering wheel, following each beat of your song. he carefully parks his car, before he could even remove his seatbelt a sudden face and a hand grabs onto his window.

“holy shit gavi! it’s too early for this man…” fermin said as he rolls his window down. immediately regretting that decision when he forgot to pause the music.

“wow… i never knew you were into her music… especially after yesterday.” gavi said while giggling, a wide grin across his face. fermin rolls his eyes as he grabbed his phone to disconnect from the speakers. he grabs his small bag filled with toiletries, before getting out of the car.

fermin and gavi walk into the changing rooms together, the others already arrived earlier than them.

“ay fermin, gavi!” ferran first spoke to them, dabbing them up. “you wanna come with us tomorrow? we got tickets for y/ns concert.” pedri said, fermin stood there, looking confused.

“i mean it’s alright if you don’t want to, i don’t really expect for you to listen to her music.” pedri shrugs his shoulders before gavi spoke up, “nah we’re down, both of us.” he said as he hugs his arm around fermins neck.

“sweet. we’ll meet up tomorrow so i can hand out the tickets.” ferran said, as he changes into his training kit while walking out to the field with pedri.

gavi elbows fermin, his smug face from earlier still plastered on his face. fermin exchanges an annoyed look.

…

it was the night of the concert, you were quite nervous but relaxed at the same time. you already did this performance in different countries already, you should be used to it by now.

you sat backstage re-practicing the songs and lyrics. the team and background musicians preparing their own part as well.

your curious self started to wander around, you peeked through the stage entrances. it’s only a few minutes until the show starts, there should be people by now. but you didn’t expect for the crowd to be so large. you already knew a lot of tickets were sold but never this much. your heart felt warm knowing now people really loved your art of music.

fermin sat near the stage with the other players, patiently waiting. “i’ll just go to the restroom, i’ll be back. don’t do anything stupid gavi.” he said, standing up and walking down the stairs. “what why me only…?” gavi said innocently.

“you got it right?” ferran asked gavi while fermin was gone.

“hell yeah…” gavi responded, slowly revealing the jersey underneath his jacket.

“seriously, if people don’t know whats under there and heard what you guys said. they’d think its something illegal and report us.” pedri said with concern in his voice. the two of them laugh it off.

it was time, the concert has officially started. you walk out the backstage and reveal yourself. walking up to the microphone, greeting the fans and thanking them for their support.

you swiftly picked up your guitar that was already placed onstage before it started. starting to play a few strings. the crowd was full of life, singing together from time to time.

you enjoyed your time and before you knew it, you were already on your last song.

however, ferran and gavi start to panic. they still haven’t threw the jersey onstage, you haven’t went near them the entire time. time was ticking, they both knew this was a chance of a lifetime.

luckily, the fans beside them were singing loud enough to catch your attention. you started walking over, kneeling down infront of the fan. continuously playing your guitar in a relaxed manner.

before you got up, a ball of red and blue that was threw onto the stage caught your attention. you stood up and took it. revealing to the crowd the barcelona jersey, flipping it over. fermín 16 in white bold text, shown throughout the whole crowd. could even be seen from the farthest seats away.

you took off your guitar strap to put the shirt on properly. quickly putting it back on, you smile and decided to play an unreleased song of yours. you didn’t plan to play it, but since you were in a good mood, it couldn’t hurt.

…

the event finally ended, you plopped onto a nearby couch backstage. deciding to check your phone for any posts from fans.

fermin checks his notifications, eyes reflecting back the light of the screen that shows

y/n followed you back!

y/n replied to your story : ❤️

fermin smiles to himself, remembering he posted a concert picture earlier.

“see you’re grinning harder than i usually do, you should thank me.” gavi said confidently and smiling knowing he did his friend a favor.

“yeah… thanks for this one. you actually did something good for me once.”

a/n : i got like 3 jamal fics to work on give me time i need like more brain power for them 😢😢😢😢 yes i got crazy motivation to finish this so i can stay up

[cinnamonest]

Yan childe x teacher reader BUT the reader has a lover OMG I CAN'T-

//cucking + filming noncon, age gap, Ajax is an awful little bastard as usual

(also here's the original Delinquent!Childe x Teacher!Reader post, and the second sequel post)

Oh anon. Anon. I love this, but consider: take it a step further.

The poor boy finding out that his precious teacher he’s been fantasizing about fucking silly is MARRIED.

Typing away on her keyboard when his eyes drift and he stiffens up when he sees the ring he never noticed before. The pain. The horror. Devastated.

He’s never even met the guy, and yet he hates him so much. It’s not fair that he got to you first, just because he was born earlier than he was!

He’s probably not good enough for you. Some old guy who can’t rail you with the vigor and intensity that a young guy like himself can, probably can’t keep up with your drive either. You must be so frustrated and unsatisfied.

Now it feels so awful on his tongue to call you what he normally does. Miss _____, he says, and it feels like he’s spewing poison from his mouth, knowing it’s some other man’s name practically forced on you by dumb traditions and social standards (not that he wouldn’t do the same, but that’s different). It makes his chest hurt to hear it, the name feels like a constant reminder that some other man basically has laid claim to you, that the name marks you as belonging to someone who isn’t him.

He does some digging, finds everything he can on the guy, any online profiles or social accounts. Ugh. You deserve better. If it were him, he would just support you himself, you wouldn’t have to slave away doing paperwork all the time.

Even worse is the fact that the guy has a nice job — you know, the kind you need some higher degrees for, which he definitely won’t get seeing as his behavioral record is pretty much guaranteed to keep him out of any credible institution… still, you don’t need that much money to get by. Sure, he’ll never make that much (without getting into crime, at least, which isn’t an impossibility…), but still, he’s better for you.

It’s so much worse, though, when he stalks your accounts, sees pictures of the two of you together. Makes him feel sick to his stomach, you look happy and he doesn’t like that. He ends up having to close the window, unable to handle any further emotional damage.

He starts to pry, little by little. Can’t be too blatant, but he slips in a question every now and then — how you met, what you two do for fun, so on and so on. It makes his stomach churn to hear you talk about him, but he can’t refrain from continuing to ask, practically a compulsive urge.

God forbid you express any sort of discontentment. Even the slightest frustrated sigh, passive-aggressive comment in regards to the man, and so on, he perks up and zeros in. Oh, so you are unhappy. Typical unsatisfied wife that’s getting pent up from unmet needs and all that.

He’s very attentive to those complaints, the things you mutter under your breath and the implications of it all. He works too long and is never home (terrible, he would never leave you so lonely), he’s never helpful around the home (which wouldn’t be so much of an issue if you were home all the time and didn’t have work responsibilities), he suspiciously disappears sometimes for “work trips” or unexplained entirely (unforgiveable, your suspicions are well-founded, he’s definitely cheating and you shouldn’t forgive it).

Sometimes you sigh and shake your head — ah, sorry, I shouldn’t trouble someone your age with all this… but he assures you it’s fine… also he’s searched a list of local divorce attorneys, you know, if you consider that, which you should.

He’s not the best at being subtle or exercising restraint, so he can’t help but actually mention it out loud — life is short, better to divorce than stay in a miserable relationship! But you sigh and say it’s not that serious. He holds out on the hope that there’s an unspoken “yet” at the end of that, that eventually you’ll get fed up.

But you don’t. You keep tolerating it. It’s somewhat understandable, since divorces are difficult and messy, and you would need somewhere to stay and all that.

But getting one’s own place isn’t that hard. He would know, now — he’s actually been picking up odd jobs recently, all to get his own place. Hard to balance that with schoolwork, but he manages (and he’s in the absolute bottom-tier difficulty for courses anyway, with very little actual homework, and it’s not like he’s prepping for college like a lot of his peers). You’re very pleased with it, say you’re proud of him for being so dedicated and responsible, completely unaware that he only really has one intention for doing it all anyway.

He was planning to take that part slowly, ease his way there, but you push the limits of how much he can tolerate when he’s forced to meet the guy face-to-face. He’s just sitting there as per usual in your after-school sessions, talking a mile a minute as per usual, having a good day, completely unprepared for the psychological gut-punch he’s forced to experience when that same face he saw online comes walking right into your classroom. The sacred space that’s supposed to be just for you and him.

His soul is crushed when you get up to greet the guy all happily, practically ignoring him for several extended seconds before you gesture over to where he’s sitting and introduce each other — with himself as the student I’ve been tutoring, you know the one. The man nods, casts a single uncaring glance his direction.

Right. She mentioned you before.

The hell does that mean. He keeps the smile plastered to his face, but it’s twitchy. What did you say? Was it bad? No, you wouldn’t say anything bad about him… except maybe certain factual statements like the whole behavioral record thing, but he can accept that that’s his own fault.

Still, he doesn’t like the way the guy looks at him. A vague condescending, disdainful glance. Makes him curl his hands into fists and clench his jaw. If it weren’t for the whole “impulse management” thing you’ve been hammering into his head for months now, he might have outright attacked the guy.

It’s practically torture to sit there. You say something about how you’re going out for your anniversary, so he came to pick you up. Awful. Like you might as well have stabbed him. Not to mention it’s cutting into what’s supposed to be his time with you, and now he has to leave early.

So he’s forced to walk to the front doors with you both, listening to you talk all happily about where you’re going, while he’s forced to continue to pretend to be perfectly fine with it. Ugh.

You bid him goodbye, and he smiles and waves and walks the opposite way… and the moment you’re out of sight, he’s scowling and grinding his teeth and kicking rocks on the road all the way home, sulking like a petulant kid, imagining all the horrible ways he hopes your date goes terribly wrong.

It makes him seethe all night long, laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, nausea ruining any chance he had of sleeping. He can’t even go sulk around his parents with the hope of getting attention like he used to do when he was mad, now that he lives in this little apartment by himself.

How is he supposed to live under these conditions, no attention available on demand. You don’t even text him to see if he got home safe like you do sometimes. Probably too busy doing whatever with your husband who’s more important than he is. Hmph. His mind briefly flickers to wondering what you’re doing now that it’s later in the night, but the obvious realization only makes him feel ten times more sick. He doesn’t get any rest.

And the longer the night goes on, the more irritated he starts to feel, the misery and hurt begins to turn to bitterness and anger. He starts to feel like you probably know — no, you definitely do. And yet, you willingly tortured him like that. You've been so nice to him, giving him all that attention and affection, knowing you won't ever give him what he really wants and being totally fine with causing him so much pain. He's hurt, and more importantly, mad.

But he can't hate you… your husband, however, is a different story.

That guy kept his arm around your waist walking outside, rubbing it in his face like that. He’s certain that your husband must realize that he loves you (way more than said husband does, for the record), but that look of disdain — he doesn’t even see him as a threat, does he. Thinks that he’s not even proper competition. That much is painful. Bothersome. Annoying. Rage-inducing.

Well, he’s wrong.

That’s the thought that pushes him over the edge. He’s already had the idea in his head for a long time, he just kept bailing out every time he gathered the gall to go through with it, much to his own shame.

But clearly, continuing to be passive is not going to get him anywhere. Come to think of it, a few months ago, he would never have hesitated to go through with whatever impulse struck him, no matter how violent. It’s not like he hasn’t been expelled or arrested before.

He appreciates the time he’s spent with you, but he’s starting to think that all those little speeches about “self-control” and “thinking before you act” and all that have only really just made him docile and tame. How embarrassing.

A man should just take what he wants, right? Anything less is practically a blow to his pride.

He’s still not the brightest when it comes to formulating plans, but his rather straightforward plan ends up working. You actually agree to swing by when he says he has something to give you, something too big to carry to school himself, so he needs you to come pick it up with your car and all that. You must really trust him. Or you’re just naive, maybe, but he likes to think you trust him, however unwise that may be.

He worries that you might back out, but you show right up to his door. The motions from there are mechanical, putting his brain on a sort of autopilot mode in which he just goes through with it, without thinking too much, lest he hesitate, until you’re secured.

Grabbing you by the shoulder and jerking you inside, hand over your mouth, other arm around your waist and picking you up. It's a short distance to the bed (well, mattress on the floor), since it's just a studio apartment and all.

You being so weak makes it so much easier. He can technically tell you're struggling, but it barely feels like resistance, just weak squirming and thrashing that doesn't even loosen his grip in the slightest. You make cute little noises of surprise and confusion and fear, muffled by his hand over your mouth.

Sadly, he can't afford to have you attracting attention from the neighbors, so he's forced to keep you gagged, pulling your shirt over your head (to which your whimpers turn to full-fledged sounds of panic), and — after the brief moment where he has to detach his hand from your mouth, hearing you stammer out a wait, wait— balls it up and stuffs it into your mouth, quickly grabbing the duct tape (he, feeling very proud of himself for such clever forethought, thought to go ahead and tear some long strips off and stick the ends to the wall ahead of time), and placing it over your mouth, flipping you over onto your stomach.

You're so cute. You make the cutest little noises, your eyes get all teary, you squirm and whimper and try to pull yourself away, but he's got your wrists pinned behind your back with one hand, the other pulling your hips back. The cutest part by far has to be when you feel him jerk your skirt up, his cock pressing against your flesh and pushing inside of you, your squeals get louder and higher pitched and you struggle so hard, to no avail.

So mean, though, to pretend like you didn't see it coming. You know what you did. You led him on on purpose. Knowing full well the sort of things he's done to other people — beating his peers black and blue on impulsive whims, getting into fights because he felt like it, stealing stuff and vandalizing stuff and all those other things he knows you know he did, since it's all on his records… you willingly came all by yourself, in private, with someone like that, who you know full well is so much stronger than you are—

What did you fucking expect?

Up until then, the stream of words from his mouth are all amused and teasing and sadistic, but in those words, and the sharp jerking thrust accompanying them, you hear that underlying anger breaking through. You really hurt him, you know, by being married. He loves you so much, and you had to go and do that to me, he says, as if it was a retroactive choice, as if you should have predicted his presence in your life years in advance, as if you willfully did it to spite him years before you knew he existed.

Is it irrational? Sure… but it isn't going to change that he feels that way, and he’s mad and you can't do anything about it anyway, so he's going to keep blaming you for what you did wrong.

He keeps muttering about how stupid you are — for coming here so naively, for choosing your dumb fucking husband over him when he's so much better and loves you so much more, for all the little things you did to lure him in and make him want you so badly, for being so nice to him and having a body you should have known would make him want this so badly.

It's all your fault.

The words get more and more muffled and slurred as the movements get faster, harsher, you squeal with each thrust that makes the springs creak and the whole mattress itself move back and forth against the floor. He points out that you're leaking all over him, fluid drooling out of your hole and spilling onto his hips and thighs, satisfied by the shameful little whimper you make and the way you hang your head. You must not get fucked good enough at home, huh.

And then, he starts to slow down. There's a pause. You see him reach over, to where he tossed a few things that were on you when you came in onto the floor. Fishes something out of your purse.

You made a confused, panicked little sound when you notice he's holding your phone. Easily unlocked, whatever method you use — he holds it up to your face or forces your thumb to press against it, or, most alarmingly, even if it's protected by password or pattern, he enters it with a single try. Shouldn't have opened your phone around him so much, of course he would pay attention to that.

You're flipped onto your back, reeling from the sudden harsh movement, grunting and squirming when your bra is pulled up to your collarbones and your skirt pulled up even further, exposing your body completely before shoving back inside of you, and oh, what a euphoric sound you make — and this time, you visibly clench down on him when he does. Perfectly timed, too.

Your stomach clenches in dread and panic as you see your phone’s front side facing you.

Smile.

You cry out louder than ever before, struggle so hard, so good. His hand latches onto your throat and squeezes hard, and your hands, now no longer in his grasp, reach up to claw at them, all entirely futile. The sound of skin slapping skin reverberates around the room, and you see him tilt the camera downward, ensuring he captures the sight of his cock pounding into you, stretching you apart, all the slick fluid now coating everything from your thighs to his hips, and the sweet, precious sounds you make for him.

He wonders if anyone has ever made you react like this before. If your husband is going to be torn apart by the realization that he's made you feel better than he ever has, that he's better and bigger than him. The sheer fear on your face would suggest that. The thought feels euphoric.

He re-angles himself, leaning forward a bit, ensuring his body presses against your clit — you start to tense up, push back, your heels dig into the mattress and your body writhes with greater force than ever before. Your eyes squeeze shut and you shake your head but he doesn't stop, and you hate yourself so much in the moment for the sensations your body feels, the guilt and despair overwhelm you, you feel a cold chill in your gut — but you finally spasm and shudder on his cock all the same, clearly trying so hard to minimize it and hold back the sounds and movements, but the involuntary shudders and soft little cries are unmistakable all the same.

Normally, he would want to stay inside you longer — but there will be plenty of chance for that later. This time, the prospect of pulling out and capturing it is too tempting, and God, is it satisfying when he does. The squelching sound, the way his cum starts to drool out of you onto the mattress, the way your hole twitches from the sudden absence, slightly agape from the intrusion. It's so, so perfect, better than he could have even imagined.

You rip the tape off your mouth, gagging and coughing from the strain on your throat, and the overwhelming sensation leaves you in a dazed stupor for a few moments… your head slowly drags over to him, and an ice-cold spike of fear strikes through your heart when you see that he's still on your phone.

Slight movement from you as you try to push yourself upright takes his attention away from it, eyes flickering over to you.

Ah, right.

You make a scared little sound and pull your hands close to your chest (very cute!) as he looms over you again, but you're helpless to do anything as he puts the phone down to flip you over again, this time taping your wrists behind your back, adding a new layer over your mouth, and finally one on your ankles. Your struggles barely faze him.

You see him zip his pants back up and pull his shirt back on, standing and making his way over to the door, shuffling his shoes back on before grabbing your car keys.

I'll bring these back. Your place is only five minutes away if I drive, you know. I won’t get into any wrecks this time.

It occurs to you that you've never told him where you live, but it's the least of your concerns then and there. Your heart sinks to your stomach as he takes your phone again, grinning as he types and, after a pause, makes one distinct, final tap that you know can only be hitting 'send.'

His head turns over to you, that same dopey, carefree smile on his face as always, that now seems so much more sinister than before.

Don't worry. He won't have enough time to call the cops.

Your muffled words don't stop him. You writhe pathetically on the ground as the door opens and closes before you, listening in dread and despair as his footsteps slowly fade away.