#you're motivated by pressure

[duckvenger]

Sometimes, I have motivation. Other times, I space out, and suddenly it’s been several hours and all I did was play video games and watch YouTube.

The moral of the story is........... uh........... I dunno, I lost motivation and didn’t finish it. Oops. Guess we’ll never know.

[susiephone]

extraordinary attorney woo rules because sometimes it'll be like "hey this episode we're defending a client who kidnapped 12 children" and the guy is like "in my defense....i saved those kids from going to school" and you're sitting there watching like "you know maybe he has a point"

[timeofjuly]

Heyhey I was wondering what design of papyrus is used in wishbone? Like any specific look to him?

(What? No I'm not making a two panel comic of him and mc... *vanishes like gaster*)

!!!! Omfg, if you do, I would absolutely LOVE to see it!!! I still don't really know the difference between all the various swapfell/fellswap aus and designs lol, BUT I do imagine him (and his brother) with purple eyelights and magic, rather than the gold or red some people go for. There's no real reason behind this, purple is just my favourite colour haha, and I think a lilac-flushed skull is the cutest thing ever. I've also written him with a gold fang and cracks around one socket. I imagine that these facial injuries came from the same attack, so it makes sense that they'd be on the same side. He also describes his bones as yellowy and dull in chapter 3 but that's mostly self-deprecation talking, I don't think he's actually that discoloured. In terms of outfits, his usual is the classic long, fuzzy-hooded jacket and skinny jeans a lot of people draw him in, with a turtleneck or similar underneath, and big, chunky boots.

[blizzardream]

FLIGHT RISING POST 🎉🎉🎉

More DtDAY art because I finally felt brave enough to try again and went all out again despite trying to hold back

These are Glade and Bug from hyenaglasses!

I saw you suggested I draw Bug as well as Glade, and Bug's a cat so how could I refuse the offer to put my greatest strength to use? I'm mainly a cat artist so this was right up my alley! XD

I thought Constellation was going to be more of a challenge because I consider it to be one of the more complicated genes I could render, but once I figured out how to do it I had a lot of fun with it! I love Glade's palette with the grays and purples, she's really pretty :)

Bonus bit under the cut!

I really wanted to try out that thing artists do online where they like swipe their finger/mouse/stylus over the drawing and suddenly the background appears with it or something. I've never done this before but this looks really sick so I thought I'd share too sjjsjs

(watermarked cuz I'm paranoid)

I hope you like it ;-;

[brown-little-robin]

I'm sick and pathetic today, does anyone want to help me be motivated to do my homework & laundry by promising to listen to some Robin's ocs lore after I get done?

[foreversince]

i really don't know what is up with me. i am at a state where i'm thinking whether this academic pressure is worth any of the anxiety and distress i'm feeling. even vice versa is this anxiety going to be worth anything which is going to help me academically.

[grinchwrapsupreme]

discovering that my favourite part of writing a novel is editing it like what the hell is my problem

[toshidou]

When I have motivation I'll draw them as rugby players 🤭🤭

IF YOU DO THAT, I WILL ABSOLUTELY GIVE YOU THE RIGHTS TO MY UNBORN CHILD!!

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere academic rival who really, really wishes he could just get you out of the way.

Dead dove Do Not Eat! MDNI ! NSFW !

Tw. Dubcon/Noncon, bullying, academic pressures, blackmail, oral sex, explicit photos, mentions of baby trapping, yandere, stalking, forced relationship, AFAB reader

Elias had a certain level of respect for you.

You both attended a prestigious university crammed full of students vying to make connections and nab a cushy position for themselves in the future, and while it was easy for him to be on top of the social and academic scenes, he knew you had to work a bit harder. He came from a very wealthy household, one where needing something was merely a concept and not something he ever actually encountered. You, on the other hand, definitely come from a lesser background than him and his circle. Your scholarship and just above the average academics seemed to have pushed you into a good spot to be hoisted into the same realm as him.

But he didn't really think of you much at first.

You were some nameless face that wasn't really worthy of being around him. Maybe he would catch glimpses of your hair, or someone woud mention you in passing and he'd pretend to be intruiged.

It was really when you started to be compared to him of all people that he started to really pay attention.

You were smart, cunning, and ruthless when it came to your assignments. Just like him. Normally he worked overtime, paid industry professionals to help review his papers, his study materials and poured blood sweat and tears into his academics. And yet you somehow managed to be on his level with less than half the resources. It drove him up a wall because if you were nearly as good as him now, then what could you be like if you had the chance?

Elias was like a man obsessed after your sudden, explosive rise in the minds of professors and lecturers alike. He spent hours studying, shirking his friends and other responsibilities just to make sure he was still better than you, to keep you in your place.

He started to focus in more on your personal life, too.

Where on earth did you come from? He's half convinced that you were genetically designed in a lab to piss him off. But the more he glares at the back of your head when you're not looking, the more he's transfixed. You're like a black hole, or some kind of other abyss like metaphor. Fuck, you had him writing poetry in his head. He hated poetry. He hated you. Or at least, he would really like to hate you, but he couldn't. You had the same amount of drive as him, maybe even a little more. No matter what he did, he was forced to acknowledge you, forced to be aware of every twitch of your hand or every flutter of your eyelids. To him, you were something that demanded attention, even if it was taken from him through gritted teeth.

The only reprieve from his spiraling was the fact that you felt the same way about him. He liked to imagine that you were just as obsessed with him, sitting there in the late hours of the night writing down equations with him as your sole motivator.

But then he finds out that he's not even occupying your mind, and he loses his shit.

"Oh Elias? Yeah I guess he's fine. Huh? Rivals? What the- no way I just want good grades. He has nothing to do with it haha."

You just said it in passing when someone teased you about it, and he knew that he shouldn't linger on your words for too long. If anything, it should make him feel better. You had nothing against him, so it meant everything was fine, right? Wrong. It was so wrong.

Elias was seething, nearly throwing a tantrum. How could you not even think about him. Him! You were some piddling, pathetic excuse for a human being, and you had the audacity to not even regard him when he spent nearly every waking moment thinking about you.

He was fine just watching you from the corner of his eye. He was fine knowing that on some level, the two of you had a respectable if not distant relationship. Just because in some aspect, he wanted a piece of you all to himself. And if you weren't going to let him just have a little bit of your life, your passion, your drive, he would just take all of you instead.

He follows you into the library late one night. You're sitting there, glowing in the warmth of the nearest lamp while your pen makes soft scratching noises against the paper. You look pretty. You've always looked pretty to him. You don't notice him as he approaches, and he feels any vestiges of doubt or restraint float away. Even now, as he loomed over you, you didn't even spare him a glance.

The library was empty. He made sure it was so before hand, and he's glad he did. The quite air was shattered by the sound of him shoving you over the priceless lacquered wood desk. Your eyes go wide as you take him in, and his hands fly up to your throat.

"Augh! What are you-?"

"Shut up." He hisses and narrows his gaze. Your pulse is racing underneath his fingers, and he has half a mind not to crush your windpipe into oblivion so that he can be the last one to feel it. "You have no idea," He mutters and leans in close. Your frightened breath ghosts over his skin, and he shudders. Now that he thinks about it, this is the first time he's ever been so close to you. It feels so right. He never wants to be away from you again. Not when you look so damn alluring with tears rolling down your cheeks and your clothes rumpled on the floor by his feet.

He wants you like this always, with your twitching cunt stuffed full of his fingers and your cries filling his ears. Soft, wet squelching noises met each of his ministrations, and a cruel, wonder filled grin spread across his face.

"You have no idea how much you've driven me wild," He laughs. It's a sharp sound that grates on your ears. "How much you infuriate me," Each word is punctured by a thrust, by a curling motion that has you gasping and seeing stars.

If this is what he has to do so that you notice him, so you will just fucking care about his existence more than you would any other speck of dust on the street, then so be it.

It only gets worse from there.

Elias takes photos of you. So many. Ones of your crying face, ones of your leaking pussy, some of him shoving his dick past your puffy lips. Once the camera shuttered and they were in his hands, it was all over.

He played the role of your boyfriend after that.

There wasn't a moment where he wasn't hovering over your shoulder, whispering threats into your ears. He gets you to start doing worse in your classes and on your assignments, and for once, he's happy. He finally has your eyes on him, and if you ever try to leave him or say anything, then he'll make sure you can never show your face around here again. Don't worry, though. He's kind enough to keep it so you won't fail outright. In fact, he'll just slip some money to some of the professors so you don't have to do anything other than sit on his lap and pay attention to him while he actually works for the top spot.

Elias takes you out on fancy dates as if it's any way to soothe the sting of having your life ruined. He pays for everything and practically preens under the feeling of finally getting what he wants. He's such a brat, and he doesn't even care about hiding it when he's with you. Part of the reason why he likes you is he can be his nasty, awful and conniving self and you have no choice but to accept it. He doesn't mind if you're reluctant or stubborn. In fact, he kind of likes it because in the end, you still gave in to have a chance to graduate from a prestigious school. And plus, now you're living the high life with him! It's kind of a win win if you think about it.

He loves having you sit on your knees (a cushion underneath them of course. He wouldn't want you to ever actually get hurt) and taking his cock in your mouth while he studies. You look so cute like that, with your eyes all narrowed in mildly hidden frustration, and he loves it even more when he thrusts into your throat. You always make these little spluttering noises that just drive him wild, and he clamps his thighs around your head to keep you there.

Elias who soon becomes the university's beloved model student. He's not going to let anyone get in his way ever again, especially not after he has you to provide for now. After all, he's got plans for you. Once he manages to put a baby in you, he'll know that your future family is secured, and he's got to support all of you. There's no way he can fail now!

[mssalo]

dirty old man - the doctor’s office

When the doctor steps out, Joel wastes no time pulling you onto his face, turning the check-up into a filthy game of control and desire.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, age gap, caretaker f!reader, Joel is a perverted old man (imagined age 60-70), reader in her 20s, DDLG dynamic, daddy kink, exhibitionism, oral (female receiving), public setting (doctor’s office), risk of being caught, degradation, size difference, explicit sexual content, perverted/dirty talk.

more dirty old man in masterlist

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The sterile smell of the doctor's office felt like the most routine part of your day—a place you and Joel had visited plenty of times for his regular check-ups.

But underneath the fluorescent lights and the ordinary medical examination, there was a palpable tension, one that had nothing to do with Joel's health and everything to do with the dynamic you’d built together.

Joel lay back on the examination table, his shirt off as the doctor began his usual routine, prodding and listening to his chest, but Joel's attention was far from the doctor’s hands.

“Gotta say, Joel,” the doctor began, flipping through his notes. “Your physical condition has improved since your last few visits. I can tell you're in much better shape—more flexibility, blood pressure’s stabilizing. Whatever routine you've been following, it’s working wonders.”

Joel’s eyes darted over to you, and that familiar, mischievous smirk curled at the edges of his mouth.

“Well, doc,” he drawled slowly, “that’s all thanks to my new caretaker here.” His eyes locked onto yours, the look in them full of filthy innuendo. “She’s been keepin' me on my toes.”

Your face flushed instantly, heat rushing to your cheeks as the doctor glanced over at you, completely unaware of the real reason behind Joel’s improved health.

You gave a nervous, awkward laugh, trying to hide the growing embarrassment bubbling up inside you.

"Yeah, well... I try to help as much as I can," you stammered, your voice shaky under the weight of Joel’s smoldering gaze.

The doctor smiled, oblivious, and nodded. "Well, it shows. You’ve done a great job," he said. “It’s rare for someone Joel’s age to make such improvements so quickly. Whatever you're doing, keep it up.”

You forced a smile, trying to maintain professionalism, but Joel’s smirk was growing, his eyes gleaming with that dark satisfaction, fully enjoying the way you squirmed.

"Yeah," Joel muttered, his voice low and teasing. "She’s been real good to me, doc. Keeps me movin’, keeps me... motivated." His eyes lingered on you as he said it, making your heart pound even harder.

You bit your lip, trying to avoid eye contact, but the flush on your cheeks deepened. You knew exactly what Joel was hinting at, and so did he.

The doctor was completely unaware of the layers behind Joel’s words, but you could feel the tension building between you, the silent promises in Joel's gaze making it impossible for you to focus.

“Well, whatever it is, it’s clearly working,” the doctor continued, glancing down at his clipboard. “Your heart rate’s better, blood pressure is steady, and your muscle tone has improved. Honestly Joel, for your age, you’re in remarkable shape.”

Joel chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending a ripple of heat through your body.

The doctor glanced at his clipboard, then gave Joel a brief smile. “I’ll need to step out for a moment to check something with the nurse,” he said casually, already turning toward the door.

As soon as the doctor stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him, Joel wasted no time. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with that familiar possessive grip.

His smirk was wicked, curling at the corners of his lips as he yanked you closer, pulling you between his legs.

“Come here,” he growled, his voice low and rough, already thick with need. His eyes raked over your body, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your skirt up with rough urgency.

“No fuckin' panties, just like I told ya. Good girl. Now get up here and sit that sweet pussy on my face.”

Your breath hitched, and you glanced nervously at the door, your heart racing.

“Joel… we’re in a doctor’s office,” you whispered, trying to sound logical, but the heat between your legs was already giving you away.

“Don’t give a damn,” he muttered, his hands tightening on your hips, pulling you closer until you were standing right in front of him. “I’ve been thinkin’ about your cunt all fuckin' day. Now, I’m gonna have it.”

The way he talked to you—filthy, raw, unapologetically possessive—set your body alight with anticipation.

You hesitated for just a moment longer before finally giving in, climbing up onto the examination table. Your hands shook slightly as you straddled his chest, your bare folds hovering over his face, already slick with arousal.

“Fuckin' look at you,” Joel growled as he pulled you down, his breath hot against your dripping core.

“You’re so wet, baby. This pussy’s fuckin' soaked for me.” He slid his hands around your hips, gripping them tight as he positioned you just where he wanted you.

“I wanna see every part of you, darlin’. Spread those legs nice and wide for me.”

Your legs trembled as you obeyed, spreading yourself open for him, your wet, swollen clit exposed to his hungry eyes. He groaned, his breath ragged with lust as he looked at you, his lips parting slightly.

“Goddamn, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick and rough. “Look at how swollen that little clit is. You’ve been waitin' for this, haven’t ya?”

Without waiting for a response, Joel’s tongue flicked out, the first slow, deliberate stroke dragging over your clit.

You gasped, your fingers gripping the edge of the exam table as your body jolted with pleasure. He wasn’t gentle—his mouth latched onto you, sucking hard, his tongue swirling over your clit with rough, practiced strokes.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as you tried to stay quiet.

The obscene sounds of his mouth on you filled the small room, wet and slick, and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

Joel groaned against you, the vibrations sending a shiver through your entire body. “This fuckin' pussy,” he growled between licks, his words muffled as he sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue lapping greedily over you.

“Tastes so goddamn good. I could fuckin' drown in it.”

You moaned softly, your thighs trembling as his tongue flicked over your swollen clit again, faster this time, more insistent. He sucked hard, drawing your sensitive bud into his mouth, then flicked his tongue over it in rapid, merciless strokes.

You could feel your pulse pounding between your legs, your body already trembling with the need to come.

“Fuck, Joel… we have to—” you gasped, but he cut you off with a growl, his hands tightening on your hips as he pulled you down harder onto his face.

“Shut the fuck up and ride my face,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “I don’t care if we’re in a fuckin’ doctor’s office. I’m gonna make you come all over my mouth.”

You could barely think straight. The filthy heat of his words, the way his mouth moved on you, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body—it was too much.

Your hips started to rock against him, grinding down on his face as his tongue slid in and out of you, his rough hands guiding your movements.

“That’s it, baby,” Joel muttered between licks, his voice thick with hunger as his tongue dragged slowly up and down your folds, swirling around your swollen clit before dipping back down to tease your entrance.

“Fuck my face. Show me how much you need it. How much you love when daddy eats this sweet little cunt.”

His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you down even harder against his mouth. His tongue was everywhere—messy, desperate, like he couldn’t get enough.

He flicked your clit with his tongue again, but then he shifted lower, dragging his tongue along your slit, tasting every inch of you. The heat between your legs was unbearable, and Joel could feel how badly you wanted it, how soaked you already were.

He groaned, the sound vibrating through you as his face pressed further into your slick heat, his nose brushing your clit as his tongue explored every part of you.

He wasn't satisfied with just licking—he wanted to bury himself in you, use his whole face to make you come. And that’s exactly what he did.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growled, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.

His tongue moved lower, teasing the edges of your entrance before plunging inside, fucking you with slow, deep strokes.

You moaned loudly, your hands gripping the sides of the exam table as your hips rocked against his face. Joel’s grip on your hips tightened, keeping you in place as he lapped at your pussy like a man starved.

But it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more. He pulled his tongue out of your hole, dragging it back up to your clit, where he sucked hard before letting go, only to press his entire face against your folds, rubbing it all over your pussy.

His nose nudged your clit, his lips sucking at your wetness, and his tongue slipping everywhere—flicking your clit, sliding between your folds, teasing your hole again and again.

He was relentless, his whole face working against you, his stubble rubbing against your sensitive skin, adding a rough, delicious friction.

You gasped, your body trembling from the intensity of it, and Joel only groaned louder, his tongue darting in and out of your hole before sliding back up to your clit, flicking it in rapid strokes.

“You love this, don’t ya?” he rasped, his voice muffled as he pressed his mouth back to your pussy, his tongue swirling over your clit, his nose bumping against it as he ground his face into you.

“Love when daddy uses his whole fuckin’ face on this pretty little cunt. You’re fuckin’ dripping for me, baby. I’m gonna make you come all over my face.”

Your breath hitched, your hips bucking against him, the pressure building inside you as his face moved everywhere—tongue fucking you deep one second, then sucking on your clit the next. He loved every part of you, and he made sure you knew it.

His mouth, his nose, his whole face was slick with your arousal as he devoured you, using everything he had to make you come.

Joel pulled his tongue out of your hole, dragging it up your slit again, swirling it around your clit before pressing his mouth down hard.

He sucked, his lips closing tightly around your clit as he flicked his tongue over it in quick, teasing strokes. You whimpered, your body trembling as you tried to stay quiet, but it was impossible with how good he was making you feel.

“Fuck, Joel…” you gasped, your voice shaking as the pleasure grew, every nerve in your body on fire from the way his mouth moved over you, claiming you. “I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he growled, his voice low and commanding, his tongue never stopping. “Come on my fuckin’ face, baby. I want it all. I wanna taste every drop.”

His words sent a shiver through you, and with one final flick of his tongue over your clit, you came hard.

Your thighs clenched around his head as your orgasm crashed through you, and Joel groaned in satisfaction, his hands holding you firmly in place as he continued licking, drinking in every bit of your release.

“That’s it, good girl,” he muttered, his lips still pressed to your pussy, his tongue slowly dragging through your folds, savoring the taste of you. “You come so fuckin’ sweet for me.”

Your body trembled, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps, but Joel wasn’t done.

His hands slid up your thighs, squeezing them gently as his mouth moved over you again, slower this time, but just as hungry.

He rubbed his whole face into your slick folds, his nose brushing your clit while his tongue teased your entrance. He wanted to make you come again, and he was determined to get it.

“Fuck, I could eat you all day,” he groaned, pulling back just long enough to look up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes before diving back in, his tongue sliding deep inside you again.

He fucked you with his tongue, his nose pressing against your clit, his mouth wet and messy as he devoured you, completely lost in the taste of you.

“You’re mine,” he growled between licks, his voice low and possessive as he slid his tongue out of you, flicking it over your clit again.

“This pussy is fuckin’ mine.”

You were barely holding on, your body trembling as another orgasm built inside you, the sensation of his face rubbing against your wet heat sending you over the edge.

Joel could feel it—could feel the way your body tightened, the way your breath hitched, and he sucked your clit into his mouth again, his tongue swirling over it in quick, dirty strokes.

"Come again," Joel growled, his voice dark and full of filthy satisfaction. "Come all over my fuckin' face again, baby. Don’t hold back."

You couldn’t. The pleasure hit you like a tidal wave, and you came again, harder this time, your hips grinding down onto his face as your body shook with the intensity of it.

Joel groaned beneath you, his tongue still lapping at your pussy, his whole face drenched in your slick as he continued fucking you with his mouth until you couldn’t take it anymore.

"Look at you," he rasped, his voice hoarse but smug, pulling back just enough to smirk up at you. His face was soaked, his lips shiny with your release, and the sight of him like that—dark eyes, glistening mouth—made your stomach tighten all over again.

"Can’t fuckin’ get enough, can ya? Rubbing that sweet little pussy all over an old man’s face."

His words dripped with possessiveness, but there was a teasing warmth behind them. Joel wasn’t disgusted by how much you needed him—no, he was fucking proud.

Proud of how you responded to him, how desperate and soaked you became under his tongue.

You whimpered softly, still trembling, the shame and arousal mixing together in a heady cocktail of need.

"Joel, we’re gonna get caught," you murmured, your breath still shaky.

He chuckled, low and dirty, his hands never leaving your hips as he kept you pinned down.

"Let ‘em catch us," he growled, his voice rough with lust. "Let ‘em see how fuckin’ perfect you look sittin’ on daddy’s face. Maybe they’ll wanna take a fuckin' picture—show everyone how much this sweet young thing needs me.”

Your breath hitched at his words, the risk, the dirtiness of it all making your heart race.

You were already drenched, but hearing him talk like that—pushing the boundary between pleasure and danger—made you even wetter, your body responding before your mind could catch up.

“They’d love to see you like this, wouldn’t they?” Joel muttered, his tongue darting out to swipe at your swollen folds, sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through your already sensitive body.

"Bet they’d be jealous. Bet they’d wanna taste you too, but you’re mine, hm, baby?"

You nodded, your voice catching in your throat as his hands squeezed your hips, forcing you to grind harder against his mouth.

His nose brushed your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body as his tongue teased your entrance again, slipping in and out with slow, deliberate strokes.

"You’re all mine," Joel groaned, his words muffled as he pressed his face deeper into your wetness.

“Fuckin’ made for daddy, pretty one. Look how fuckin' soaked you are, baby. Ridin' this old man’s face like you need it to breathe."

Your whole body shuddered as his tongue pushed deeper inside you, fucking you with slow, sensual strokes.

He wasn’t just eating you out—he was worshiping you, using every part of his face to drive you crazy.

His nose bumped against your clit as he flicked his tongue in and out of your tight entrance, his lips wrapping around your folds, sucking and licking like he couldn’t get enough of you.

"God, Joel..." you gasped, your hips moving of their own accord, grinding against him, desperate for more.

The idea of someone walking in, seeing you like this—spread wide, riding Joel’s face while he devoured you—it sent a thrill through you that made your heart race even faster.

"That's it," he muttered, his voice rough and dirty as his hands guided your movements.

"You like this, sweet girl? You love letting daddy take care of you, love how I make you feel. Doesn’t matter where we are—you’ll always be fuckin' mine."

But Joel wasn’t finished. His hands stayed firmly on your hips, his mouth still teasing your swollen, oversensitive clit with slow, lazy licks, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

"Joel, I..." you whimpered, your voice weak and breathless. "I can’t—"

"You can and you fuckin' will," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "One more, baby. Come one more time for daddy. Show me how much you love ridin' this old man’s face.”

His filthy words sent another shock of heat straight to your core, and before you could stop yourself, you were grinding harder, your slick pussy rubbing all over his face.

Joel groaned, the sound vibrating through you as he sucked your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it in quick, tight circles that had you seeing stars.

“Good girl,” he murmured between licks, his voice full of pride and lust.

“You’re so fuckin' perfect, baby. So tight, so full of energy for me. Daddy loves it when you let me eat this pussy like it’s the last thing I’ll ever taste.”

His tongue flicked over your clit faster, his hands keeping you steady as your thighs trembled around his head.

You were so close again, the pressure building inside you, threatening to overwhelm you. Joel’s mouth moved with expert precision, teasing, sucking, licking—his entire face covered in your slick, his stubble rubbing against your sensitive skin in the most delicious way.

"Come for me again," Joel growled, his tone shifting to something more commanding. "I wanna feel it. I wanna taste it all. Don’t fuckin' hold back, baby."

You moaned, your hips rocking harder against his mouth as the pleasure built higher, higher, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

The tension snapped, and your third orgasm crashed through you, even harder than the last. Your thighs squeezed around Joel’s head, your hands gripping the edges of the exam table for support as your body shook with the intensity of your release.

Joel groaned beneath you, his tongue still working over your clit, licking up every last drop as you came all over his face.

His grip on your hips was unrelenting, making sure you couldn’t move, couldn’t escape the pleasure he was giving you.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Joel muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You come so fuckin’ pretty for me, baby. Just like that. Give daddy everything.”

You collapsed forward, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling as the last waves of your orgasm pulsed through you.

Joel groaned beneath you, drinking in every last drop of your release, his hands gripping you tightly as he licked you through your climax, his tongue unrelenting.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, finally pulling back, his face a mess of your slick, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “You’re fuckin’ perfect, baby. We ain’t done, though. When we get home, I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be beggin' for more."

Your body trembled, still coming down from the intensity of your orgasms, but the look in Joel’s eyes told you he wasn’t lying.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a smirk playing on his wet, glistening lips as he watched you try to gather yourself.

But before either of you could speak, there was a sudden knock on the door.

Your heart leaped into your throat, and you scrambled off Joel’s chest, yanking your skirt down as quickly as possible.

Panic coursed through you as you hurried to adjust yourself, smoothing your hair, trying to catch your breath.

Joel, of course, was far too amused. He wiped his face lazily, still leaning back on the exam table, that smug smirk never leaving his face as you frantically tried to make it look like nothing had happened.

His eyes twinkled with mischief as he glanced at the door, clearly not concerned in the slightest.

"Come in," Joel called out casually, his voice hoarse but steady, as if he hadn’t just been buried between your legs moments ago.

The doctor walked back in, clipboard in hand, giving Joel a quick glance. "Sorry about the wait, Mr. Miller," he said, then paused as he noticed Joel’s flushed face, the sheen of wetness still visible despite his attempt to wipe it away.

The doctor blinked, clearly taken aback but too polite to say anything directly.

"Must be gettin' hot in here, huh?" the doctor remarked with a chuckle, trying to laugh off the awkwardness.

"This age, it’s making us all feel a bit warmer, huh? Happens to the best of us."

Joel, the devilish smirk never leaving his face, tilted his head slightly, catching your eye for just a second before replying, "Oh, you could say that, doc. It definitely gets me feelin’... hotter than usual."

His tone was thick with double meaning, so much so that you had to suppress a smile.

The doctor, oblivious to the real reason behind Joel’s flustered state, simply nodded and made some notes on his clipboard.

"Well, let’s make sure everything’s looking good. Just a quick check-up, and you’ll be out of here."

Joel shot you a look as the doctor moved to his side, leaning in to examine him.

His eyes twinkled with filthy satisfaction, his lips twitching as though he was barely holding back another comment.

"Yeah," Joel said quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. "Feelin’ better already."

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

…..I dont know what to tell y’all 😭

I’m glad some of you like older!Joel 🫶🏼 I love reading your comments and reblog notes - thank you so much!!

[incognit0slut]

Lesson learned

PART 3 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Unit Chief!Spencer x BAU!Reader Your boss decides to teach you a lesson when you question the motivations behind a certain case.

Content: (18+) 6k, breath play, fingering, a little case description, BDSM discussion, softdom Spence but borderlines to dom because hello this is breath play and reader being judgy judgy but don’t worry he’s here to teach you a lesson or two a/n: The initial plan was to make him a hard dom but breathplay is already overwhelming so I decided to go the educational route. I am, by all means, not as smart as him, so there might be some inaccuracy

You would think that after joining the BAU for two years, you’d start to understand the twisted logic of a criminal’s mind. But you don’t. Not really. You’ve dissected motives, uncovered patterns, and profiled suspects more times than you can count, and yet this case makes no sense. 

Your eyes go over the photographs pinned to the board again. And again. And again. It’s become almost a ritual now, like maybe if you look at it just one more time, the pieces might finally fall into place. But all you find staring back at you are three victims with the same marks on their necks. There was clearly a sign of struggle, but not one of fear. Not one that fits any pattern you know.

“I don’t get it,” you say. “The profile suggests the victims knew their attacker, but this doesn’t look like anything close to rage. Or brutality.”

Spencer shifts beside you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours as he leans closer to the board. “It might not have been an act of violence,” he observes thoughtfully. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.”

You furrow your brow. “If it wasn’t violent, then what was it?”

“The bruising pattern is too symmetrical, and there’s no sign of panic or defensive wounds on their hands. I think there’s a chance the victims might have willingly participated.”

“Willingly?” Your eyes snap at him. “What do you mean, ‘willingly participated’? No one willingly gets strangled.”

He meets your eyes for a second before looking back at the board. “I know it sounds unlikely,” he admits, “but not impossible. See how the bruises are evenly spaced? They wrap around in perfect circles. The pressure is distributed just enough to leave a mark but not to crush the windpipe.“

“Spencer, that’s exactly what happened. The windpipe was crushed.”

“Yes, but not immediately. That’s the point.” He turns towards you again. “The intention wasn’t to kill them outright. The unsub wanted to bring them to the point of unconsciousness but not over it. At least, not at first. He was counting on their trust before pushing it too far.”

You let out a huff. “That’s insane.”

“It might seem that way to you, but it’s not unheard of. Sexual asphyxiation is a consensual act for some people. The lack of oxygen when someone’s airflow is restricted can trigger a euphoric sensation which intensifies pleasure."

You stare at him like he’s just spoken a different language. “So, you're saying they get off on... not breathing?”

“More like they find excitement in giving up that control."

You cross your arms and study him, tilting your head with a skeptical frown. “How do you even know this?”

The corner of his mouth twitches in a half-smile. “I read,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You have a book on sexual asphyxiation?”

“It’s more comprehensive than that. The book covers a wide range of kinks, fetishes, and other forms of sexual exploration which are considered extreme by societal standards.”

"You’re telling me you read up on BDSM practices in your spare time?”

"I think of it as research,” he replies. “It’s part of understanding human behavior. You can’t afford to be ignorant about the complexities of people's desires."

"Huh." Your eyes travel back to the images again. "You know, I still don't understand. I mean, willingly letting someone cut off your breath? That’s not just trust that’s… I don’t know, crazy?”

His eyes narrow towards you as if he's carefully considering how much to say.

“It's not crazy,” he insists carefully. “For people who engage in it, it’s not only about losing control. It’s about reaching a heightened state of awareness, finding excitement in walking that line.”

"But what if that line gets crossed? What then? How could anyone think that sounds… fun?”

“Well, have you ever tried it?”

“Of course not!” you reply quickly, almost laughing at the absurdity. “Why would I?”

“Then you wouldn’t know,” he counters, his tone calm but pointed, like he’s presenting a fact rather than an opinion. “You can’t really understand the mindset until you’ve experienced it. It’s not something you can fully grasp from the outside.”

"I don’t think I could ever trust someone enough to do that to me."

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right person to trust.”

You scoff. “What? Are you offering?”

You laugh at your own joke, and you expected him to do the same. Or perhaps a quick “Of course not”, even some rambling about how he didn’t mean it that way. But when all you’re met with is silence, your laughter dies down, and your eyes dart back to him.

Spencer’s not looking at you, his eyes are fixed on the photographs pinned to the board. He’s studying the bruises, the faces, the details like he always does, but there’s a stillness in his expression, a tension in the set of his jaw that makes you think he’s considering something else entirely. And for a moment, you’re not sure if he’s really thinking about the victims or the case at all.

Maybe you shouldn’t joke about things like that. He is your boss, after all, and even though there isn’t exactly a strict superior-subordinate dynamic between the two of you—he’s always been more of a peer than an authority figure—you wonder if maybe this time you crossed a line.

Spencer’s eyes remain on the photos for a long, agonizing second, and you think maybe he’s not going to respond at all. But then, slowly, he turns his head and looks at you, and the room suddenly feels impossibly small.

“If I were to offer,” he says quietly, “Would you take it?”

His words knock the breath from your lungs, and all you can do is stare back at him. You don’t know what to make of the question. Was it a dare? A test? Or perhaps something more?

There’s a part of you that wants to laugh it off. The conversation was absurd to begin with, so brushing it away like it’s nothing would feel like the safest option. The easy way out. But there’s another part—one you don’t want to acknowledge—that can’t help but wonder what it would mean to say yes.

What if you did? you ponder.

What would it feel like to trust someone like that?

What would it feel like to trust him?

But before you can reply, the door to the meeting room creaks open, the noise echoing through the dimly lit space of the police precinct. A uniformed officer pokes his head inside.

“Dr. Reid, we found a new lead on the vehicle.”

Spencer’s eyes stay locked on yours for just a beat longer as your heart hammers in your chest. Then, without a word, he nods to the officer, and any trace of whatever passed between you dissolves like it never happened at all.

The next few days turn into a blur. The lead on the unsub’s vehicle takes you across town, a chase that ends with the suspect cornered in an abandoned old house. It’s almost anticlimactic how quickly it all happens—sirens blaring, doors kicked in, and in less than an hour, the unsub is in handcuffs. The case is finally closed, and it’s the kind of victory that usually brings a sigh of relief.

But today, you can’t find that peace.

Back at the precinct, the rest of the team has already moved on to debriefing. You’re left cleaning up the mess of photographs and notes scattered across the table. But your movements are slow, distracted, your fingers fumbling over the papers. There’s a prickling awareness that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you know exactly why.

It’s because Spencer is watching you. You don’t even need to look to feel the weight of his gaze. He’s leaning casually against the doorframe, hands tucked in his pockets, but there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes track your movements.

You pause, photos in hand, and finally address him. “What?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pushes off the wall and starts walking toward you. He stops just short of arm’s length.

“Have you thought about what we discussed the other day?”

You feel a rush of embarrassment, and the awkwardness of the moment makes you shift uncomfortably. Clearing your throat, you turn your attention back to the table, hastily grabbing a stack of photographs and shuffling them into a folder.

“We didn’t discuss anything,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “It was just a joke.”

“Was it? You don’t joke about things like that unless you’ve thought about them at least a little.”

You let out a dry laugh, keeping your eyes firmly on the table. “I wasn’t being serious. We were in the middle of a case, and we were all exhausted. I just said whatever came to mind.”

Spencer tilts his head, the way he does when he’s analyzing something, his eyes flickering over your face as though he’s cataloging every twitch of your expression.

“Maybe,” he concedes, and takes another step forward. “But the offer wasn’t a joke, and you didn’t say no.”

Your fingers freeze over the photographs, the papers crinkling under your touch.

“I didn’t say yes either.”

You mentally wince at how weak that sounds, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself. You slowly look up at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all you find are those intense brown eyes staring back at you.

It unnerves you how calm he is, how easily he’s holding this conversation when your mind is spinning in a million directions.

“You do realize what you’re offering?” you start to press, feeling the need to put it out in the open. “What this means?”

Spencer doesn’t flinch, doesn’t break eye contact for a second. “I do.”

“Do you? Because it seems to me like you might be taking this too lightly."

“I’m not taking it lightly. I’m acknowledging that there’s more to it than what you’re seeing on the surface.”

“And what makes you think I want to see beyond the surface?”

He leans in closer. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, but not enough to cross any boundaries. “I’m offering a perspective, not forcing you to accept it. Understanding doesn’t always come from reading about something. It comes from experience.”

You can’t quite decide if his words make sense or if they’re completely absurd. It’s like he’s challenging your logic, your assumptions, but at the same time, there’s a strange clarity to what he’s saying.

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

Because he’s your boss? Because someone in his position always tries to make sense of everything for everyone else?

“Because shaming people for their interests, for something they might find pleasure in… it isn’t fair, and it isn’t right.”

Now that was something you didn’t expect him to say.

“I wasn’t shaming,” you protest quickly, the words coming out defensive even to your own ears. “I was just…”

“Curious,” he finishes for you. “And curiosity isn’t a flaw. Neither is wanting to understand, and if you’re willing to explore that curiosity, then I’d rather you experience it in a way that’s safe. That you know is controlled.”

“So what?” you snap back. “You want to prove me wrong? Show me I’ve been looking at this the wrong way?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it’s not playful. It’s gentle, almost thoughtful, as if he’s carefully weighing each word. “No,” he says softly. “I don’t want to prove you wrong. I want to teach you.”

You blink at him. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out at first, the words tangled somewhere between shock and disbelief. It takes a few seconds until you manage to find your voice.

“You… want to teach me?”

“A lesson, if you will,” he explains, and the way he says it—so calm, so certain—makes your heart stutter. “Not to prove you wrong, but to help you understand. You have your perceptions about… control and trust. I think the only way to really understand is to experience it yourself.”

You don’t know what to say, what to do, and all that comes out is a shaky, barely-there laugh.

“A lesson,” you repeat, trying to make sense of the concept.

He nods, and there’s no pressure in his voice, just an offer. Simple and clear. “But only if it’s what you want.”

You aren’t sure what to feel, much less what to say, and the uncertainty must show on your face. Sensing your hesitation, Spencer takes a step back, giving you space.

“It’s a lot to consider, and I’m not expecting an answer now. But the offer still stands… whenever you’re ready.”

And with that, he gives you one last smile and turns away, leaving you alone with your conflicted thoughts.

You’re pacing in your hotel room, your footsteps muffled by the worn carpet as you make the same path back and forth over and over again. Every time you try to sit down, your leg bounces with restless energy, so you’re back up again, moving without purpose but unable to stop.

You tell yourself it’s just stress. The case, the pressure, the weirdness of being in a small-town motel with creaky walls and awful lighting. But you know better. You know exactly what’s got your mind spinning and your stomach doing flips.

Spencer. And his damn offer.

You scoff to yourself, trying to laugh it off like you always do, but the joke doesn’t land when it’s just you, alone with your thoughts. And, really, what’s the harm in admitting the truth—to yourself, at least? That maybe the whole concept doesn’t seem as insane as it did a few days ago. That maybe you’ve found yourself wondering what it would feel like to trust someone that much.

You stop pacing, staring at your reflection in the mirror across the room. There it is, that nagging curiosity, that flicker of intrigue that Spencer saw before you even knew it was there. You let out a sigh, the weight of the realization hitting you.

God help you, but you’re actually curious.

And that might just be the scariest part of all.

You slip into your shoes and take a deep breath before stepping into the hallway. The motel’s quiet, most of the rooms dark as you walk past, and for a moment you hesitate, wondering if this is a mistake. The team’s staying one more night here, the last bit of downtime before flying back tomorrow. A chance to decompress, to shake off the adrenaline of the case. Yet here you are, anything but relaxed, heading out because you can’t stand one more second of pacing back and forth.

Your footsteps come to a stop outside Spencer’s room, and you stare at the numbers on the plaque for a moment. You could turn around right now. You could pretend you didn’t walk all the way down the corridor with his words echoing in your head. But as much as you try to convince yourself that walking away is the logical choice, your hand moves on its own, and you knock.

Spencer doesn’t look surprised when he opens the door. Without waiting for an invitation, you push past him, barging into the room before you change your mind.

“If we’re going to do this, I have some ground rules,” you blurt out, the words rushing out all at once. “I don’t know what you think this is going to be like, but I need control over some things. Non-negotiable.”

He closes the door with a soft click. “Of course,” he responds calmly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“First,” you say, spinning around to face him. “I’m in control of when this starts and when it stops. If I say no, then we stop. Immediately. No questions, no convincing, none of that.”

“Absolutely.”

“Second, I need to know exactly what we’re doing. No surprises. You explain everything to me before we do anything.”

He quickly nods.

“And third… this doesn’t leave this room. We don’t talk about it to anyone else. Not tomorrow, not next week, not ever.”

He takes a step forward towards you. “This stays between us.”

You let out a shaky breath, the adrenaline settling into a nervous, thrumming pulse beneath your skin. “Okay,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him, trying to process the reality of what you’ve just laid out. “Those are my rules.”

Spencer takes another step forward, close enough now that you can smell the faintest trace of him. A mix of something clean and warm, like soap and worn cotton, an understated scent that’s distinctly him.

“Then those are the rules we follow,” he reassures you. “Your terms. Your pace.”

“Thank you.”

He nods his head again. “Is there anything else you want to discuss?”

There is, actually. There’s a question that’s been hovering in the back of your mind. It feels awkward to say out loud, but the uncertainty gnaws at you, and finally, you force the words out.

“Are we… are we going to have sex?”

He holds your gaze. “Do you want to have sex?”

You go quiet again, letting the silence settle around you as you think about what you want, what you came here for. You slowly shake your head. “No,” you reply. “No, I don’t.”

“Then we won’t. There’s more to explore in this than just sex.”

“Right, that’s—good.” You clear your throat. “I have… one more question.”

He gestures for you to continue.

“You’re not going to fire me for this, are you?”

His soft chuckle fills your ear, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile tonight. “No,” he confirms, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I’m not going to fire you. Whatever happens between us won’t affect your work, I promise.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling a little of the weight lift off your shoulders.

“Okay, so… now what?”

“Now,” he says gently, “We take it slow.“

He guides you toward the edge of the bed, and you find yourself moving automatically, sitting down on the mattress. The bed creaks slightly as he settles beside you.

“If we’re going to do this,” he starts, turning slightly to face you. “I want you to be comfortable. And that means talking. You can start by telling me what you’re thinking. ”

“That’s… it? We’re just going to talk?”

Spencer’s mouth lifts into a soft smile. “Yes,” he confirms, “If that’s what you want. There’s no pressure to do anything else.”

The idea of just talking feels safe, but there’s also a flicker of curiosity that you can’t quite shake. You shift on the bed.

“What if I want to do something more?”

Spencer’s eyes search yours, and he doesn’t move closer, doesn’t do anything that could make the moment feel rushed. “If you want to, then we can. Something simple to start.”

Your fingers trace the fabric of the bedspread. “Like what?”

“Something small. It could be as simple as letting me guide your breathing. A way to practice trust without anything overwhelming.”

You swallow, the idea feeling both intimidating and oddly… reassuring. There’s comfort in the way he talks about it, the lack of pressure, and the way he makes it feel like there’s nothing to fear.

“Okay,” you agree softly. “Let’s try that.”

He moves a little closer to you. “We’ll take it slow,” he promises. “Try to focus on your breathing and follow my lead.”

You close your eyes, feeling your breath shallow and quick, your heart racing as you try to find a steady rhythm.

“Take a deep breath,” he instructs softly. You inhale deeply, feeling the air fill your lungs, and when you open your eyes for a moment, you find his face inches from yours.

“Good. Now let it out… slowly.”

You follow his lead, exhaling, and you can’t help but notice he’s mirroring your breathing—his chest rising and falling in time with yours. It’s oddly comforting, and a little unnerving, like he's syncing with the rhythm of your pulse.

“Again,” he guides. “Deep breath in… hold for a count of three… then let it go.”

You do as he says, feeling your nerves steady slightly with each breath. In, hold, out.

“You’re doing really well,” he murmurs, leaning just a fraction closer. His lips are so close that you can feel his breath brushing your skin. “I’m going to ask you something, but I need you to know you can say no. At any point.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Can I touch you?” he asks gently, his words so soft they almost melt into the air around you. “Just on your shoulder, or your hand. I want to see how you feel about being touched while you focus on your breathing.”

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears, but you manage another nod. His hand moves carefully to rest on your shoulder, but even with the light pressure, you feel your body stiffen. Spencer notices immediately.

“You’re tense,” he observes, his thumb brushing lightly against your shoulder.

You let out a small laugh, one that comes out more like a nervous exhale than anything close to amusement. “It’s kind of hard not to be,” you admit. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s okay. It’s completely normal to feel nervous.” He pauses for a second before continuing, his tone thoughtful, like he’s considering what might actually help. "There are a few things that can help when you’re feeling this way. One of them is focusing on your breathing, which we’re already doing. But there’s also physical touch."

"Physical touch?”

"Kissing, for example," he explains, “can actually help regulate your nervous system. It releases oxytocin, lowers cortisol levels. Basically, it signals your body to relax."

Your eyes fall on his lips. "Really?"

A flicker of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, but it’s only helpful if it’s something you feel comfortable with.” He tilts his head slightly, studying you. “Would you like to try?”

You meet his gaze again and, before you can overthink it, find yourself nodding, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “Yeah… okay. We can try.”

Before you even finish the sentence, Spencer leans in, his lips brushing yours with the kind of gentleness that catches you off guard. It's soft at first, like he’s testing the waters, and you can feel the slight hesitation in his movements as if he’s making sure you’re comfortable. It’s sweet, almost too sweet, and for a second, you wonder if this is how he kisses—gentle, thoughtful, deliberate.

But as the kiss deepens, you feel the warmth of him pulling you in. Your heart’s doing this erratic thing where it skips every other beat, and your mind’s racing to catch up with what your body’s already starting to enjoy. And sure, maybe the science behind this kiss makes sense after all, because there’s a part of you that’s actually relaxing, even with the buzz of nerves still humming beneath the surface.

Then he pulls back, just enough for your lips to barely part, his breath warm against your skin. “How are you feeling?”

It takes three heartbeats to find your voice. “Uh... yeah, good,” you manage, a little breathless, a little more flustered than you’d like to admit.

“Do you want to keep going?”

You pause, thinking it over, and despite the swarm of nerves in your chest, curiosity wins out again. You nod, maybe a little too quickly. The moment you do, Spencer leans in again, and this time his kiss is deeper, more intent. The softness is still there, but there’s a quiet intensity in the way his lips move against yours, the way his hand lightly cups the back of your neck.

Then his tongue brushes lightly against your lower lip, and a ripple of goosebumps spreads across your skin. You part your lips for him, and the sensation of his tongue slipping past m has you gripping the fabric of his shirt a little tighter.

Just when you think you’re getting used to it, his hand shifts, sliding up to wrap gently around the front of your neck. Not tight, not restricting—just enough to make you aware of it. The warmth of his palm against your throat sends a jolt of something sharp right through you. He seems to notice instantly, and without pulling his hand away, he breaks the kiss.

“Are you okay?” His thumb gently strokes the side of your neck. “I don’t want to push you, if it’s too much—”

But before he can finish, you shake your head quickly, surprising even yourself with how fast the words leave your mouth. “No, I… trust you.”

His eyes soften at your words, and his grip on your neck stays gentle, almost protective. “Would it be okay if I touched you more?”

Your pulse beats rapidly beneath his fingers, a rhythm you’re sure he can feel, as if your heart is answering for you. “…yes.”

“Do you want to lie down? Would that be more comfortable?”

You feel the heat travel along your veins. “I think… that would be good.”

Spencer nods as he helps you shift back onto the pillow. He stays close but doesn’t crowd you, his hand returning to rest lightly on your neck, that same soft pressure that keeps your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.

“Remember, focus on your breathing,” he reminds you. “The way your body responds is tied to how much you let yourself feel. Trust that.”

His other hand begins to move. His hand trails up toward your shoulder, then lightly brushes over your breast. It’s barely a touch at first, like he’s testing the boundaries, waiting for your body to tell him how far to go. Your breath catches for a second, but when you don’t tense up, he takes that as a sign to continue.

“Is this alright?”

“Yeah,” you manage to whisper, your voice a little breathless than you expected. And, God, you mean it. It’s more than okay—it’s… unexpectedly good in a way that feels almost too intimate to think about.

His hand moves lower now, tracing a path down your side, before sliding gently across your leg. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you feel his fingers brush against the inside of your thigh.

“How about this?”

You nod, biting your lip as you meet his gaze.

Spencer’s lips curls into the faintest smile. His hand inches higher, moving up your thigh with excruciating slowness until his fingers finally reach the heat between your legs.

Oh. Oh.

Your hips instinctively tilt toward him, your body responding before your mind can even catch up. The heat pooling low in your belly intensifies as his fingers press lightly against you.

“Still with me?”

You nod, but internally, your mind is spinning. He begins to move in slow, circular motions, his fingers dragging against the fabric in a way that makes you bite back a moan. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and you can feel your arousal sticking uncomfortably to your panties. It doesn’t shock you—you know understand how being touched like this will make you wet—but what surprises you is how much more intense it feels when his grip around your neck tightens.

Your breath hitches, and before you can stop yourself, a moan escapes your lips.

He pauses for a moment, his grip relaxing just enough for you to catch your breath. “I want you to feel the difference,” he explains. “The pressure changes everything. It makes you more aware of every sensation, more focused on how your body responds. But if it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

You nod, your breath still coming in uneven gasps. “I’m good.”

His thumb traces the outline of your jaw. “Do you want me to continue?”

“…yeah.”

His hand travels towards your hips, fingers toying with the waistband of your pants. “Should we get rid of these?”

You don’t have to think about it for long. The answer is already there.

“You can take them off.”

Spencer’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants before tugging it down. But as the fabric pools around your ankles, you hesitate for a second before your hand instinctively reaches for your shirt. You fumble with the hem, glancing at him as you pull it halfway up, your breath coming out in a small, awkward laugh.

“I mean, it’d feel weird to be naked from the waist down and still… you know, fully dressed on top.”

His eyes linger on you, and his reaction is subtly amusing. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Without thinking too much about it, you tug the shirt over your head, tossing it aside. Your bra follows, quickly joined by your panties, and before you know it, you’re lying naked on your boss’s bed.

Or, technically, the bed he’s been sleeping on these past couple of days.

Spencer’s eyes move over you slowly, lingering on the curve of your perky breasts, your smooth skin, and the unmistakable wetness between your thighs. His gaze is careful, appreciative but never lingering too long in one place, like he’s taking you in while still giving you space to breathe.

“You’re so pretty.”

Pretty? The word feels almost quaint given the situation, but the way he says it makes it feel like it’s more than that. Like he’s seeing all of you, the parts you don’t often reveal, and he still thinks you’re beautiful.

And somehow, that simple compliment leaves you more exposed than the fact that you’re lying naked in front of him.

“I can’t believe we're doing this,” you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His hand brushes along your arm. “You don’t have to overthink it. You’re in control here. We can stop whenever you want.”

“I know.”

He tilts your head with his hand. “Is this okay so far?”

You offer him a smile. “It’s okay.”

His other hand lands on your knee. “Can you spread your legs for me?”

You feel the nerves buzzing beneath your skin, but there’s also a warmth, a curiosity, a pull toward him. You inhale deeply, letting the breath steady your nerves, and then, without letting your mind spiral any further, you slowly part your legs.

His palm glides along your inner thigh, and then he touches you again, only this time, there’s no barrier between you. You can feel the rough pad of his fingertips as they gently caress your folds that it pulls a sharp breath from your lips.

“Does this feel good?”

You nod. It’s more than just good—it’s everything. The way he’s paying attention to every inch of your body is overwhelming in the best way. His fingers trace a slow path along your skin, finally pausing as they brush against you between your folds. Without hesitation, Spencer slides a finger inside you. The sudden stretch pulls a gasp from your lips.

The slick wetness between your thighs coats his fingers almost instantly, and you feel yourself responding to him, opening up in ways you didn’t even know you could. He studies the way his finger moves in and out of your cunt, and the more he touches you, the more your hips begin to move on their own.

He takes your response as a sign to continue.

"I'm going to wrap my hand around your neck again," he tells you, without waiting for more than a slight nod of your head, his fingers curl around your throat.

"The pressure here," he begins, his thumb lightly pressing at the side of your neck. "Isn't just about cutting off your air, it also means restricting blood flow to your brain.”

He pushes another finger inside you, and the increased fullness draws a sharp intake of breath from you.

“By limiting the blood flow like this,” he continues, applying a bit more pressure around your throat. "It triggers your body to release adrenaline and dopamine. That rush you’re feeling? It’s your body chasing euphoria."

Euphoria. You never really thought about it like this before, how something so controlled could unlock a part of your body that felt so overwhelming. The feeling isn’t just pleasure, it’s a raw intensity that borders on something deeper as your cunt clenches around him. Your breath stutters, caught in a sharp contrast between the slow burn in your throat and the urgent heat flaring between your legs.

He’s unraveling you, pulling you apart thread by thread, yet leaving you desperate for the moment he puts you back together again.

You need more.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs soothingly. The words send a new wave of heat rushing through your body. Your hips move restlessly, and you can hear the soft whine escaping your throat, growing louder with each thrust.

Spencer notices immediately, his fingers slowing just for a moment. “Too much?”

You quickly shake your head, almost frantic, the last thing you want is for him to stop. The moment you do, his grip on your throat tightens slightly and your eyes flutter closed as a wave of euphoria washes over you. Head falling back against the pillows, your vision starts to blur. You feel the air restrict in your throat.

“I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart.” His thumb strokes lightly against your neck. “The more you control your breathing, the better it’ll feel.”

That word alone almost undoes you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s meant to be soft and soothing, but instead, it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through you. Your chest rises and falls as you do exactly what he says, because apparently, being called sweetheart with his fingers wrapped around your neck makes you want to obey him, more than you’d care to admit.

"That’s it, keep focusing on your breathing."

You force your eyes open, but everything feels hazy, unfocused. You’re not sure if it's from the lack of air or the way he’s looking at you, but you can feel yourself losing control. Your eyes flutter half-closed again, lips parting in a breathless moan, and before you realize it, your tongue slips out, barely grazing your lower lip.

Spencer knows you’re close. His thumb presses just a little harder against your throat, not enough to stop you from breathing, but enough for your inner walls to grip his fingers tightly.

“I know, I know, I've got you,” he whispers. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Just let go whenever you’re ready."

You can’t decide if the sound of his voice is making it easier or harder to hold on. There’s a brief moment where you think you might hold it together, but then your body betrays you. Your muscles tense, your breath catches in your throat, and all the control you had slips away in an instant. It’s as if your brain is giving in to exactly what he said it would—a surge of chemicals that makes your limbs feel heavy and light all at once.

Your orgasm slams right into you, the most intense thing you’ve ever felt. It floods your senses so completely that your lungs struggle to catch up. The tremors rack your body, and it’s only when your legs give a final, uncontrollable shake that he finally releases your neck, allowing the air to rush back into your lungs in a dizzying, breathless moment of relief.

Before you can fully recover, his lips are on yours in an instant. He moves against your neck, kissing the very spot where his hand had held you. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

When you manage to catch your breath and blink through the lingering haze, he lies down on the bed and pulls you into his arms. It takes a whole minute before your breathing fully steadies, his hand stroking your hair the entire time.

“How are you feeling?”

You don’t know what to make of it all, so you laugh breathlessly instead, the only response you can muster.

“Like I’m about to pass out.”

“What?” He looks at you in alarm. “You are?”

You shake your head quickly, offering him a small smile. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s just… it was really intense.” But the worry doesn’t completely leave his face, so you try again, placing your hand on his chest. “Good intense. I’m okay, I promise.”

He lets out a slow breath and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “So I take it you liked it?”

A flush of embarrassment washes over you, and you can’t quite meet his eyes as you nod. “Yeah… I did,” you admit, your voice soft, almost sheepish. “Go ahead, you can gloat. Tell me I was wrong.”

Instead of taking the bait, he gently traces his fingers along your neck. “It was never about proving you wrong. The judgment you made that day, about not getting why someone would like this… it’s hard to fully grasp until you feel it yourself.”

“I wasn’t judging,” you murmur, feeling a need to defend yourself.

“Maybe not intentionally,” he says thoughtfully. “When it comes to BDSM, there’s a lot of misunderstanding or assumptions people make from the outside, it’s really more than just control or pain. There’s trust, communication, boundaries. And I think, in a way, that’s what happened tonight. You trusted me enough to let go.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing what he’s saying. “Are you suggesting I could be into all of this?”

“Not necessarily,” he replies carefully. “But I think it’s possible that there’s more to it than you realize. You trusted me tonight, and that’s the most important part. That’s where it all starts.”

You chew on his words for a second. It’s not something you’d ever considered before, but now that he’s brought it up, you can’t deny that the thought has sparked something.

“So you think I might want to explore this further?”

His lips curl into a soft smile. “It’s not about what I think. It’s about what you want. If you’re curious, then we can explore it together.” He leans in slightly. “Is that you want?”

The spark you felt moments ago? It flickers stronger now. The idea is both thrilling and terrifying, but with him, it feels… possible. Safe, even.

You feel a tightness in your chest.

“I think… maybe, yeah.”

His smile deepens just a fraction. “We’ll take our time,” he reassures you, his thumb brushing lightly over your throat. “We can talk about this when we get back. You need to rest for now.”

You shift closer to him, feeling the rustle of his clothes against your bare skin. “Can I stay here tonight?”

His chin lands on top of your head. “You can stay with me as long as you want.”

What a dangerous offer, you think as you sink further into his arms. But not as dangerous as the way your heart flutters at the thought.

[osachiyo]

" LEMME HIT YOU WITH THAT DUMB DICK ! "

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, jouno (+ tecchou), oda, sigma x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — [n]sfw content, somnophilia, these are random scenarios ok don't come at me, degradation, humiliation, doggystyle, rough, getting caught, pussy slapping, s.ex at work, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected s.ex (be careful babes), praise, creampie + etc • this was originally supposed to be their fav places to fuck but i had to scrap that bc i lost motivation :') anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread soz babes

ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3

⁰¹ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — fucking you in a storage room of the agency

This man is a sex fiend, so of course he would love to fuck you literally anywhere anytime. Though he can't lie, being balls deep in your juicy little cunt at work — risking both of your dignities and possibly your jobs has him harder than a fucking rock.

"Osamu— what if we g-get caugh— mmh-!" you let out a muffled moan as dazai delivered a particularly harsh thrust into your cunt, effectively shutting you up. "Relaaaax, sweet thing — almost no one c-comes here — fuck, you're so damn tight," Dazai panted into your ear, hot breath making a chill run down your spine — back arching even further against his chest.

"God, you're so good f'me — so warm 'n right, fuck!" each word was rushed, dripping with lust — the desperation in his voice made you wanna look at his pretty face, pussy clenching just from imagining how good he'd look with his hair disheveled — his usual doe eyes narrowed and a deep blush covering his skin, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his hair stick to his forehead —

Your train of thought got cut off abruptly when Dazai slapped his hand over your mouth, before his hushed voice reached your ears, "shh, stay still f'me, sweetheart."

You were about to question it when you heard the president's voice from just behind the door. The door of the room you were currently getting your back blown out in.

"Yes, I keep hearing strange noises from this one room in particular," you heard fukuzawa's muffled voice — the thought of your boss catching you in the act made your pussy flutter around Dazai’s length, making the brunette grunt in response.

"Are you trying to get us caught, darl'?" Dazai hissed into your ear — oops, you unintentionally clenched down again upon hearing the keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily Dazai was ready for it this time, and managed to bite down on your shoulder before he could get a sound out.

"W-what do we do, 'samu? He’s gonna come in!" you whisper-yelled, panic settling in your bones when you saw the doorknob rattle — but before he could unlock the door fully, you heard the high pitched voice of another worker, "president! an important client has come to personally see you."

"Hm, alright. looks like i'll have to tell someone else to take a look in this room later. Let’s go,"

You let out a breath of relief once the footsteps faded away, leaving you both in complete silence until dazai decided to speak up —

"You clenched reaaal hard when he was about to open the door — don't tell me you actually wanted us to get caught, did you, naughty girl?"

⁰² 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 — having you suck him off in his office

Chuuya's job as an executive of the mafia is stressful, to say the least. Not to mention some of the idiotic workers not doing their job right never fails to make his blood pressure go especially high — his anger issues doesn't help his case at all. But what does help is his sweet sweet girlfriend giving him some... 'under the table service' at work.

Chuuya's fist slammed against the hardwood desk, a loud 'thwack!' echoing in the room,

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" he sneered at the poor man in front of him — who couldn't help but flinch at seeing his boss so angry at him failing to complete a simple report.

Truth be told, Chuuya wasn’t really that mad at the worker, for the report at least — he was just.. super on edge from you deep-throating his cock under the goddamn table. He struggled to think properly, and the poor worker interrupting his private moment with you really ticked him off. Can you really blame him though?

How could he think straight with your skilled tongue swirling around his glossy tip so sinfully — fucking tease. Oh and the way you peered up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes glazed with a dreamy haze.

It all made his head spin like crazy.

“-ir, I can re-do it if you would like me to..” Chuuya’s train of thought unfortunate got cut off short, blue eyes snapping back to the man before him — right, the report.

“A-ahem — alright. Have it finished by 6 pm.”

Chuuya hated the way his voice cracked, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he tried not to moan out loud when you fully took him nose deep in that right, sweet little throat— shamelessly rutting your hips into his crazy expensive slacks, rubbing your juices all over the smooth, polished material.

You felt Chuuya’s fingers entangle themselves in your hair immediately after hearing the ‘click’ of the door shutting — the guy must’ve finally left.

You couldn’t help but gasp as you were pulled up from the cold, hard floor — and being shoved onto the desk instead.

You felt your pussy throb in your lacy panties as Chuuya spread your legs open — two fingers pressing and prodding at your cunt before sliding the flimsy material to the side,

“Now, let’s get into the real fun, shall we darl’?”

⁰³ 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎 — teaching tecchou how to eat you out properly

Jouno was a good friend. Even though he might've had a tendency to be a little harsh and.. sadistic at times, he wasn't a bad person. I mean, he had to be atleast a decent person for teaching his inexperienced co-worker how to eat pussy — specifically, his own girlfriend's.

"No, not like that you fucking idiot —" Jouno grumbled, pulling Tecchou's head off of your cunt as he blinked in confusion like a lost puppy, sticky strings of your arousal still attached to his lips. "What do you mean? She's clearly enjoying it.."

"I mean that you can do better. You do want to make her feel fuckin' amazing, don't you?" Jouno raised a questioning brow. "Well, of cour—" "Then start acting like it."

A gasp left your honeyed lips when Tecchou's face was pushed back against your cunt — hot tongue working with even more fervor as he ate you out like he had been starving for days.

"Oh fuck — feels so g-good, sai," you whimpered out — head thrown back and your tongue threatening to loll out from the sheer pleasure the man between your legs was giving you. "Yeah, baby? Feels good when Tecchou eats that sweet cunt out reaaaaal good, huh?" Jouno's tone was condescending — his lips curled up into a cocky smirk.

“Y’smell so sweet - taste so sweet -” Tecchou's voice was low and dripping with need — your pussy throbbed from just how desperate he sounded.

"A-ah shit - can feel you throbbin' on my tongue, princess —" he groaned, tongue flattening against your clit as he shook his head side to side.

You babbled out Jouno’s name like a prayer — all while the man between your legs worshipped your cunt like it was his god, pink tongue repeatedly flicking your clit, making you see stars as your hole stretched around two of his slim fingers.

“Please — wanna c-cum s’ba- mmh!- ,” you let out a strangled noise as a harsh slap landed on your soaked pussy, clit throbbing as you threw your head back once more. “Fuckin’ slut, so damn eager to cum on another man’s tongue in front of your boyfriend, hmm?”

“Don’t — ah fuck, squeezin’ so tight ‘round my fingers, baby - don’t be so mean, Jouno,” Tecchou threw a side glare to the man next to him, which only earned a shrug from said man, “quit talking and enjoy the meal, dumbass. She’s close.”

And enjoy the meal he did — lapping up every single drop of your sweet juices so enthusiastically you’d think that he hadn’t eaten in days.

⁰⁴ 𝐎𝐃𝐀 — morning sex with him

Mornings with your husband, Oda Sakunosuke, were sweet, blissful and filled with love. Sometimes he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed, it's the least he can do considering everything that you do for him, is what he says. But sometimes — you crave him instead of the delicious food.

“My pretty girl,” Oda smiled sleepily, moving some of your hair out of your face to admire your effortless beauty — blissfully unaware to how his deep morning voice made your heart flutter in your chest, and your pussy throb with need.

You grinned back, scooting closer into his arms as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, “pretty enough to fuck?”

Oda raised a questioning eyebrow, full lips curling into a grin, "oh? that's the game we're playing, love?" Strong arms wrapped around your bare figure, the marks of last night still fresh on your skin — a reminder to how he fucked you dumb on his cock only a few hours prior.

You felt your face burn from the memories of last night rushing back into you — god, you two were insatiable - you're sure Oda fucked you in every single position in the book, and it did nothing but make you crave him more.

"Still with me, darling?" he lightly tapped your cheek, snapping you back to the present. You nodded, a gasp falling from your lips as big, calloused hands found themselves groping at your tits, pinching at your cute nipples as he pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck — his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.

"O-oda—"

"shhh, baby — lemme do all the work, yeah?"

And that's how you ended up with your face pressed into the pillows — silken bedsheets tangled around your bodies as Oda fucked his fat girth into your sopping cunt nice 'n deep.

A large hand was pressing your back into the meanest arch ever — strong hips slamming against the fat of your plush ass with each deep thrust, thick mushroom tip prodding at your g-spot - making you bleat out your husband's name pitifully. Oda only pushed your head deeper into the soft pillows — clearly too lost in the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.

He watched his cock slipped in and out of your pussy so easily — your slick covering his balls down to his thighs. Oda groaned deeply in his throat as he watched a creamy ring form around the base of his cock — your cunt sucking him in so eagerly that he almost thought it hurt for you to let him go.

You let out a particularly loud moan as Oda's cock hit that one spot in you — you could only bite down on the pillow as your eyes shut closed, pussy slobbering shamelessly all over his length.

"Oh? Did you like— argh! - t-that spot, sweet girl?"

⁰⁵ 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 — fucking you in your sleep

Sigma was a busy man — with running the sky casino and being part of the decay of angels didn't leave too much alone time with just him and you — especially for some.. intimacy. You knew he needed to relieve himself someway — all that workload while being pent up as fuck certainly wasn't good for him. Plus, you have been craving him as well.. so you came up with an easy solution.

The door to your shared bedroom clicked open — your beloved boyfriend, Sigma, letting himself in as his eyes racked over the entire room, searching for anything out of the ordinary — you did tell him that you had a surprise for him, after all.

Upon finding nothing, he stalked over to the bed, confusion lacing his features as he glanced over at your sleeping form. Slender hands slowly slipped the soft blanket off of you and oh —

It all clicked suddenly.

The lavender coloured lace suited your complexion so perfectly, the expensive material hugging your features like it was made for you. Sigma gulped, eyes fixating on the way your tits were practically spilling out of the flimsy fabric — your stiff nipples very much visible to his hungry gaze.

It wasn't long before he had his face buried between your plush thighs — Sigma was so desperate, not even bothering to take the lingerie off your body. Besides, why would he when you just looked way too good in it?

He was practically eating you out through the thin lace — nose bumping against your clothed clit as his tongue tried to push deeper into your cunt. You had him in a chokehold — but he couldn't care less.

Sigma's slim hips were rutting into the expensive sheets — precum leaking from his sensitive tip as he tried his best not to cum untouched just from tasting your sweet pussy, but fuck, you were making it so hard for him.

He felt his cock throb in his pants when you started letting out soft moans and sighs in your sleep — or were you even asleep anymore? He didn't know and neither did he care — mind too focused on making you cum on his pretty face.

"ohh s-shit — best surprise - sluurrp - e-ever—" he whined into your cunt, spitting directly into your sticky hole before slurping it all back up.

Safe to say, he definitely enjoyed your little surprise.

© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Gojo doing things for his new love interests that you begged him for while you were married.

After a joint meeting between the sister schools, you overheard Suguru asking him who he was texting during the meeting.

Satoru replied, "Just letting my date know I'll be a bit late tonight since we ran long here. Todo can yap, huh?"

"Seriously!" Their voices faded as they walked down the hall.

You stood just outside the meeting room watching the corner the disappeared around. If you had to pinpoint the number one reason your marriage failed - more than clan pressure, more than the strain of being young parents, more than back to back to back missions - it would be the fact that Satoru can't communicate for shit.

Part of it wasn't his fault. His brain just didn't work like that. An inconvenient side effect of limitless is that everything makes sense in your head, but it's hard for a person with the gift to explain their thoughts to others.

So the no-call, no-shows to dinners was technically a side effect of limitless, as was his inability to articulate his feelings like an adult or the fact that he would just do things without even telling you there was a problem in the first place.

"Quit doing that with your face, brat." Sukuna emerges from the meeting room. He's out of his Ryomen form at the moment, as he usually is during meetings so that he can actually fit in his chair. "How long are you gonna let what he does affect you?"

"It doesn't!" you insist.

Sukuna rolls his eyes. "If that helps you sleep at night."

Imagine reminding yourself that you can't be mad at him.

You're seeing other people now, too. Hell, you've been divorced for over a decade, it's insanity that you care at all.

It's just. You never doubted his love for you. Not for a second, not even now that your marriage failed and you largely raised your son on your own.

"Mom?"

Maybe your divorce was his motivation to be better. You're not sure. But if he's capable of change, capable of being attentive and communicative, why couldn't he change for you all those years ago?

"Mom."

Could it be that you were his childhood companion and he loved you, but he was never in love with you? Was his love for you less than your love for him?

You hardly notice your son calling out to you until he springs into action. "Mom!" Sen nudges you away from the stove to turn of the burner. When did smoke fill the kitchen? The roux you were trying to make was burnt to a crisp, stuck to the pan and emanating an unpleasant smell.

Sen gently pries your hands off the handle and drops the ruined pan in the sink to soak. Then he makes sure the burner's off before turning to you with a conflicted expression.

He may have inherited a hybrid of both your and Satoru's personal brands of emotional stuntedness, but he could put two and two together between how distracted you've been and the rumors of Satoru dating again - What with it being huge news among jujutsu society (aka power hungry clans with eligible daughters.) Your son had his own complicated feelings regarding his father and as much as he'd prefer Satoru stay away from you, it hurt him to see you like this.

Though, watching you try to keep a stiff upper lip for his sake during the divorce is the reason he doesn't want his father anywhere near you.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." You wipe your hands on a dish towel. "I wasn't paying attention. Hang tight while I make you something else."

He could kill Satoru right now. But you wouldn't like that, so he won't.

"Mama, I--" He shuts his mouth. You've been protecting him from the details of the divorce his whole life. What did he know about comforting you? But while he may not have been able to protect you then, he can sure as hell try now.

"Mama, why don't I take you out to dinner? My treat."

Imagine that Sen decides he needs to stop having ideas.

He brought you to a local okonomiyaki that you've been going to since he was little to the point where the owners knew you well and liked to give you little extras from the kitchen. Today's treat was a side of pickled radish.

It was your happy little hideaway. Away from jujutsu and clans and curses and your broken home.

Sen insisted on cooking the okonomiyaki for you, saying that, "My treats means I'll take care of everything!" The weak smile you gave him made his heart soar.

You giggle while he jokes around and tells you about school like how Hikari fell asleep for 45 minutes out of an hour long test and still got a better score than him. Hearing about your son and his happy school days always made you feel better.

Sen was ready to give himself a pat on the back for cheering you up when he hears the front bell jungle and a woman's laughter carries over.

"Fancy places are like that, though!" the woman laughs. "They give a bite of food per plate."

Then a familiar voice replies, "Yeah, but it was good, wasn't it? And now we get to fill up at a cute place like this."

Even though he's the one facing the door and not you, the look on your face tells Sen all he needs to know. What breaks his heart is that you've sunk lower into your seat to make yourself smaller.

Sen could kill his father right now.

Hooray, angst!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[bombxbomb]

To gesso or not to gesso, that is the question.

[les4elliewilliams]

❝SHE’S A MANEATER!❞

LOSER!ELLIE ﾒ MEAN!READER

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

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

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

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

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

#.ᐟ ⌞CHAPTERS⌝ ↯

˗ˏˋ 𝕠𝕟𝕖 ⋆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ⋆ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ˎˊ˗

palestine masterpost ⋆ read this ⋆ daily clicks

Summer 2023, Santa Barbara.

23th of June.

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

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

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

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

What could possibly go wrong, after all?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

24th of June.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

28th of June.

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

Like you, for example.

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

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

Dina was right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But sometimes, her body loved to betray her.

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

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

She couldn't back down now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, ‘s not my name,” she insisted.

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

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

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

What the fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

30th of June.

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

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

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

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

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

"Eleanor Williams!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4th Of July.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kick who out?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was that what you needed? Validation?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I won’t. See you later?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Party?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

4th of July, The evening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a dick, she thought to herself. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kiss, kiss, kiss,”

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

“I love lesbian porn.”

“Is lesbian porn even real?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, ‘m no-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were just getting started.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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