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#i’m so happy there was so much gray
foxgloveinspace · 9 months
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Me: yeah I’m not that big of a fan of birds.
*loves ravens crows and tufted titmouse’s*
Me: well…. Maybe I’m not a fan of parrots??
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goldkirk · 2 years
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dude perhaps don’t root through your siblings head of hair like a monkey and tweak out every alarmingly numerous strand of white you find without checking it’s okay first after announcing that hey they have white/gray hair now when they didn’t know?
#i didn’t like that actually#that wasn’t fun and I didn’t want it#there’s so much tangled up with me having gray hair suddenly bc she’s so insecure about hers and I got no warning about mine and it’s not a#streak like hers it’s just all over#and she just went all OVER she was just pulling out strand after stand and then showed me the handful#what if I wanted them to stay on my head????#or just#to not have someone pull out strands of hair??#you could ASK#i didn’t like that#i know you’re already jealous that my hair is thicker than yours and not pin straight#i don’t want you to just do things to it when I was allowing you to trim it when you offered#whatever it was a couple years ago#no one can see the gray I don’t even know how much I have now but I definitely have wrinkles everywhere#and I’m hydrated all the time so they’re not from dehydration#I’m not gonna crucify myself for having wrinkles now but#i am gonna keep being sad that they’re not the happy wrinkles they’re the ones that show people you’re angry or stressed#i hoped when I got permanently visible wrinkles eventually they’d be laugh and smile lines#i didn’t have a choice about these and they don’t show the idea of me I want people to get#but what can you do? you can’t erase wrinkles#could my baby soft feet or whatever maybe give my face a little help#Jesus what’s the point about having weird baby soft skin if it doesn’t help the spots people actually see bc you did too much sun damage 🙄#shh katie
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nezuscribe · 8 months
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𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙
summary: being gojo's wife was better than you could have imagined, too good perhaps. when you have doubts about being with him, gojo must simply show you that they're wrong
pairing: gojo x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, mdni, mild angst, heavy smut, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, heavy making out, gojo is a little possessive (but that's okay!)
note: this could be a historical au if you squint but i was too tired to go in-depth. also sorry for any typos, i might fix it later
word count: 3.3k
jjk masterlist
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gojo saturo was a man who was always sure of himself. 
he didn’t need anybody to tell him of his strength. the word of his agility spread across the aegean sea, and his strength rivaled no other man. his stark beauty that only came with having a goddess as a mother, and his snide remarks that came with being fed with a silver spoon his entire life. 
and yet you had never seen gojo so angry. never seen his eyes turn such a shade of gray, his hair framing his face messily as he breathed as though each inhale cost him the regular amount three would take. 
his (your) sleeping quarters usually a comforting place for you to be, but it all felt cold now. you could barely look at him without feeling the bile rise in your throat, wondering if you finally ruined the lick of happiness you were blessed with these past few months.
who would have thought your words would have such an effect on him? 
"what do you mean let you leave?" he spat your earlier statement as if it burned his tongue, seared his flesh as he if the prospect was enough to set even the holiest man aflame.
"i," you paused, your back pressing up against the wall as tears treacherously stabbed at your waterline, “i just think that you could have somebody…worthier.” you used the heel of your palm to wipe at your cheeks, hoping that the darkness would hide your weakness.
he took in another labored breath as if hearing you say it again was the confirmation he needed to make sure he heard you correctly the first time. 
“you could have anybody, gojo,” his lips curled at the use of his last name, getting comfortable with hearing ‘toru fall off your soft lips, “i don’t want you to be bound to me because you wanted to spite-” 
“spite?” he throws it out, cutting you off, scoffing in disbelief as you nod slowly. 
“you don’t have to take me for a fool,” you say through a sniffle, the moon carding through the window as it bounces off of his beautiful face, “i don’t have much to give, but i’m not dense. i know that there wouldn’t be many reasons after spite to take me as your wife.”
he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, looking at you and then at the tears that stained your soft cheeks. he wanted to reach out and wipe them, to kiss the salt away, and to give you words that held his heart in each syllable but you would only deem them as moments to fill the silence and to please the gods.
“then you are dense if you think that’s why i picked you as my wife,” he tells you finally, the words cutting you through your nightgown and through your chest. you were aware he wielded the sword better than any grecian warrior, but you never would have guessed that his words could be just as powerful. 
“your mother wants-” 
“damn what she wants!” he cracked, shaking in anger as your lips wobbled at the flash that crossed his face, he rubbed his hands over his tired eyes, looking away, trying to calm himself down as his hair fell into his eyes, “have you ever stopped to think about what about what i want?”
you didn’t know what he wanted. you had always thought that the gojo satoru would pick somebody spectacular to be his equal, somebody whose name was just as prominent as his. you thought that his wife would have been a child of a god as well, somebody who could match him on his every level. 
but now you weren’t sure, your past judgment slipping away as you took in his disheveled state.
“i,” he sighed, looking at you as he shook his head, “i want you so much that hearing you say you want to leave damn near tore my heart out. i want you so much that my every waking moment is spent thinking, dreaming, wanting you. you are the only person that i care for.” he choked out, his voice raw as he pushed the strands away so he could see you.
you couldn’t find anything to say as your lips trembled as you tried to conceal your cries. if only he knew your petty tears came from years of these words being muttered in the back of your head, from the people around you, and only tonight did they finally spill. you were strong, and you could control your emotions better than most, but seeing him tonight with the woman blatantly trying to win his attention proved the fragility in your mask. you knew that accepting his hand in marriage meant having to have skin thicker than before, but after months of hearing the crude rumors of why he picked you out of anybody else chipped away at you before this was all that was left. 
“i didn’t want you to be my wife out of spite,” he takes a tentative step forward, hoping that you don’t cower away because of it, “i wanted you to be my wife because i loved you too much for you to be anything but.” he walks again, his long legs reaching you in a matter of milliseconds as he’s now closer than he was before, his striking eyes taking you in better as you look at him from above your lashes, not wanting him to see you this way.
“you are so smart yet sometimes you can’t see beyond what people tell you,” he murmurs, pulling you into his chest as you let him, this warmth something you knew you could no longer live without, “i will not let you leave.”
“but-” 
“listen to me,” he murmurs firmly, his fingers grasping your jaw as he lifts it up so you can see him. 
“i will not let you leave…unless you want to,” his thumb swipes away at the corner of your eyes, searching for answers, “do you want to?”
no, you don’t.
you want to stay. you want to wake up to his kisses and his gentle touch, the honeyed words he’d tell you as he held you close to his naked body. you wanted to stay and experience what it’s like having the strongest soldier as your husband, to know that he wouldn’t let a fly land on your head. you want him.
“no,” you look away, your cheeks heating up under his heavy gaze, “but-” 
“then don’t leave.” he cut you off again, shushing your doubts as he shook his head. his fingers trailed across your shoulders, long as you felt them travel down the cloth that covered your back, holding your waist as he ran them across the expanse of your body. 
he knew the things you told yourself sometimes, he’d comforted you those nights when the darkness sheltered your tears and all he could do was tell you that you were wrong and hold you close to his thumping heart. 
this was the furthest it had ever been. his heart was thumping erratically and he was sure it would jump out of his throat if you actually left.
“‘toru, i really think that….” you trailed off as he dropped his head down, his lips finding your neck as he littered wet kisses on your skin, mouth curling into a smile as he heard your breathing hitch. 
he gripped your hips tightly, undoing the knot that met in the middle of your collarbones, watching as your robe fell to show off your supple skin to him. you wanted to hide, never getting used to that hungry look that would take over his face as he eyed your breaths, his cheeks glowing pink as he nudged his thigh in between your two legs. 
“do you really think i could live without these?” he asked, his hands cupping your tits as he flicked his thumb over your pert nipples, your lips catching between your teeth to hide your whines, “without you?” his hands ran down your stomach, his nose rubbing against your cheek as he teased his lips over yours, a cruel grin threatening to make its way onto his stunning face as you tried to meet him where he was. 
“now you’re eager?” he taunted, getting drunk off of your helpless whines, enjoying knowing the fact that neither of you would be able to survive without the other, that he needed to breathe your air in order to live. he could taunt and tease you as much as he’d want, but in the end, he’d always oblige. 
he kissed you like a man starved, his lips crashing against yours as you let out a small gasp. he took the air from your lungs, your teeth clashing against each other as he held you to him, your nipples rubbing against his chest as he moaned into your mouth, wanting more. 
“want you, always want you,” you murmur against him, your fingers curling at the stray hairs at his nape, pulling him closer to you as you press up to kiss him again.
“then don’t ever say anything like that again,” he whispered, and for the first time that night you heard the vulnerability in his words, “i want you so bad that i can barely think straight without you.”
you wanted to apologize but he stopped you, already knowing the words that were going to come out of your mouth. He nipped at your lips, stealing your apology away silently, not wanting to see your pretty tears anymore, the sight hurting him more than any wound he’s attained in all his years as a warrior. 
dropping down to his knees as he breathed in your scent, his eyes rolling back as you tried to look away in embarrassment. He’d press kissed to your inner thighs, stopping just where you needed and wanted him most, taking your knee as he guided it upwards to rest on his shoulders, looking up at you as he rolled and smirked. 
“you think anybody else will love you like i do? treat you like this?” you shook your head, your fingers curling into his white hair as your head thumped against the wall, his hot breath fanning over your fluttering entrance as you whined out for him. 
“mmh, fuck,” he loved seeing you like this, beautifully naked, sweat dotting on your skin as you wrapped your leg around his back, “hurry up ‘toru,” you were impatient and he loved that about you. 
“anything for my wife,” he said, his mouth finally finding your clit as you let out a pleased cry, his fingers prodding at your dripping entrance as your eyes squeezed shut. this is where he loved to be most, the saccharine taste of you on his tongue, washing over his body as he grew taunt against his stomach. 
he sucked, his two fingers reaching deep in you as he curled them, switching them with his mouth occasionally as your grip on his hair grew tighter, guiding him up and down as he slurped your juices away, the sound echoing across the chamber. 
“just like that!” you moaned when he reached your spongy spot, your walls clenching around his fingers, your essence staining his chin as he looked up at you with a dopey look in his eyes, “fuuuck ‘toru,” your words were the sin that he longed for, tainting his existence with the presence of your love. 
he could feel you getting closer, his movements getting faster as he held one against your ass, cupping it as he brought you even impossibly closer to him, eating you out as he had never eaten a meal as good as this, and you did try to stop the noises that fell out of your mouth as you squeezed against him, creaming on his fingers as he brought you to your high, crying out his name as you tried to dig yourself against the wall.
your heavy breathing filled the room, your grip on his hair loosening up as he kissed your inner thigh one last time before disconnecting himself from your spasming pussy, grinning like a fool as he balanced himself on his haunches. 
“good?” 
“oh, shut up,” you muttered, still trying to catch your breath as he chuckled, standing up as he brought you to his chest once again. you would never get tired of him like this, your juices on his lips and chin as he looked at you like you were his god. 
he would argue that you most definitely were. 
he pressed his lips to yours once again, letting you taste yourself on him as you whimpered against his rapid movements, grasping onto his arms for support as you hooked a leg around his waist, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks.
you could feel him hard against your stomach, and you looked down, his robes not doing much to hide his length. 
“see what you do to me?” he said against the shell of your ear, your fingers running up and down his clothed cock, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling as you continued your motions, enjoying the way he dropped his head in the crook of your neck, “you’re mine.” 
“you flatter me,” you teased, your eyes still a little puffy but you cracked a smile, feeling him puff out a laugh as he shook his head, grasping onto your waist as though that was the only thing that could keep him standing. 
if only his enemies could see him like this; reduced to a mere mess all from your fleeting touch. 
“i’m being honest.” he sucks onto your neck, his nose nudging your jaw as you tug onto his clothing, your fingers grasping onto the sturdy fabric as you push it down, your eyes taking in his physique as he stands naked before you, the two of you finally even. 
“you’re so pretty,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth as your eyes rake over his abs, the faint scars that litter his torso, the white hair that leads down to his angry cock that leaks pre all over his stomach.
he snorts, rolling his eyes as he wraps your legs around his hips once again, hoisting your upwards like you weigh nothing as he rested his dick in between your puffy folds, cocking his head as he looked at you through his long lashes. 
“me?” he asks as you giggle softly, nodding as his heart flutters at the sound, “i wish. look at your eyes,” he presses a kiss against your lids, “and your nose,” he kisses the tip of your nose as you try not to laugh even louder, the giddy sound something he hopes the gods could hear so that would envy him and the woman he has in his hands, “and your lips,” he pecks them, “and your smart, smart head,” he presses another kiss against your hairline, balancing your body in his arms, “my beautiful wife.” he finishes, looking back at your flustered figure, proud of his work.
“stop,” you whine, not making any motion to actually stop him, bathing in the endless attention as he tapped his cock head against your clit, your laughs seizing as you look down, forgetting where you were, “you’re such a tease ‘toru.” 
“only because i love you so much,” he said, thrusting up into you as your mouth dropped open into a wanton moan, your head falling back as he took in a sharp breath between his teeth, never getting used to the way you clenched so tightly around him, making it hard to not come in just a matter of seconds. 
“f-fuck,” he moaned, his hot breath hitting your breasts as he dropped his head down to see where the two of you connected, slowly moving his hips as he moved in and out of you, his mushroom tip catching in your fluttering walls as your nails dug into his back, dragging red lines down as he began to rhythmically pound into you, “you’re so fucking tight,”
“mmmh!” you could only whine out, your words slurring in your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, the feeling of his dick thumping against you was better than any other feeling in the world, you could barely try to raise your hips up to meet him, but he took care of it for you, his strength never failing to amaze you, “l-love you so much ‘toru, m’sorry for w-what i said!” 
even if he was still caught up over it, he fucked you as if to make you forget about it. 
“my wife,” he’d mutter over and over again, searing the words into fate as he fucked you with so much love that it seeped out of his pores. Sweat caught on his brow and his cupids bow and you ducked down to kiss it away, the salty taste on your lips welcoming back as he feverishly kissed you back, “my wife.”
you loved the way his veins dragged up and down your walls, the rings of your essence and creams that frothed around the base of his cock, the way his thighs clenched as his fingers dug into your ass. 
this was something you knew you could never find anywhere else. gojo satoru was something you could never find anywhere else. 
“say your mine, f-fuck, say it,” he muttered against your skin, “need to hear you say it.” 
“m’yours!” your fingers tugged at his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as he welcomed the sting, “i’m only yours!” 
His eyes rolled back as you continued to flutter against him, his high coming faster than it usually would, but he knew that he couldn’t control it with the way you kept crying out his name in that honeyed tone of yours. 
“shit, i’m ‘gonna cum, cum with me, need to feel you cum around me…” he rambled on, your pussy made him crazy. And you were nodding your head, not knowing how to speak anymore as his hips shuddered, your releases spraying each other as he cummed deep into you, white trickling out from where he had you plugged out as you cried out from the pleasure that washed over your body. 
“you’re so perfect,” he whispered after a couple of seconds passed, and you were still trying to recover from your second orgasm of the night, his words warming your soul as he kissed your cheeks.
you looked up at him, suddenly bashful despite what happened, and he had the audacity to cackle at the sight. 
you were stunning always, but he loved this look the most. the sleepy but pleased look in your eyes as you clung to him, your arms draping from his shoulders as he walked with you connected to him, just as you should be. he loved the little smile that would always litter your lips after sex, knowing that if he were to die now he’d die a happy man.
“come on,” he kept you wrapped around his waist as he kept one hand under your ass and one tightly around his waist, “i’ll let you rest, but i need to get some things to clean you up.” his eyes trailed to the mess he made, trying not to let his cock harden at the white that painted your thighs and seeped out from your pussy, knowing you were too tired for another round. 
“i love you,” you muttered into his neck, pressing a kiss where your lips were and he shuddered. 
he squeezed you tightly to him, not knowing what he’d do if you were to leave. he was a man far gone, you had too much control over him to ever submit to any other king again. you were the only being who could tell him what to do, what to feel, and what to love. 
“love you most, my beautiful wife.”
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ckhaine · 9 days
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⛧ THREE. mature content
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pairings. ex-boyfriend!jk soft dom!jk sub!reader genres. smut [m]
playing: love in the sky by the weeknd. “But I’m sure I’ll make you cum, do it three times in a row.”
warnings. vulgar language, jk’s a wee bit mean, overstimulation, squirting, cum eating, belly bulge;), he still refers to himself as her boyfriend (...yay!)
( ckhaine ) ok nother post. i’m tired (faded) so high chance of it sucking ass ... do me a favour and ignore spelling/grammar mistakes if you spot one!
© ckhaine 2024.
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“Jungkook, i’s too much!” You hiccup, your fingers digging into his strong biceps, while his own two work in between your poor, weary thighs. “Take it, baby, c’mon, I know y’can.” Jungkook cajoles, voice rough yet soothing and reassuring as he stares down at your little cunt, all wet and coated with your previous release.
You shake your head rapidly, wanting to push him away due to the overstimulation but also awakening a craving for another orgasm. The little, soft moans and pleas you let out butter him up, slowing the pace and rhythm his digits had once steadied with. “Mm, too much, hm? Can’t take what your boyfriend gives ya?” His voice’s rather mocking, mean and, still, hoarse.
He tilts his head up, pressing his damp forehead against your own, connecting his pouty lips with yours. You moan, thrash yourself but he’s much stronger, bigger and easily manages to hold you down.
“Why you runnin’ for?” Jungkook asks, being the little shit he is and feigning innocent confusion.
Running from your pleasure is the clear opposite of what you’re doing, you and Jungkook both know that. Your body jolts, a gasp of his name slipping past your pump lips as you spurt all over his hand, onto the sheets. Staring up at him with those pretty, teary eyes, he chuckles lowly and kisses your forehead.
Jungkook, kindly, removes his fingers from your pussy to give you a little break. He leans down, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, whispering sweet nothings about how good you’re doing, how much he’s missed you.
You whimper, squeezing your thighs together, nose scrunching at the stickiness. “Shhh clean y’up soon, baby. We ain’t inna rush.” He chortles, ridding himself of his thin, gray sweats, tossing them God knows where on the floor. Then he tugs his CK boxers down under his throbbing balls, a leak of his pre-cum present on the white material. “Tsk, see what you do t’me?”
“Mhm…” you sweetly hum out. “Need you in me, ‘m so wet,” you say, voice so soft Jungkook could be convinced you’re just telling him a sweet lullaby. “I know, could feel it.” He smiles.
Pressing the fat, swollen tip against your leaky entrance, happy to be met with zero resistance. Sinking in his inches slowly, Jungkook rocks his hips back and forth, watching your perky tits bounce at the moment.
“Best lil’ pussy.” He moans. His large hands fly to your hips, keeping you nice and steady. “Good girl, take it, baby. Feel me here, hm?” He asks. Taking your small hand to press down on your tummy, emitting the most pornographic moan that makes his dick twitch.
A few little strokes and spasms around his cock make him cum, shooting the thick, heavy load into you, reaching your third orgasm of the night. Your ex-boyfriend chuckles, a cocky smile playing on his lips.
“How many times did you come?”
“Three. Three times.”
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wttcsms · 5 months
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when you know, you know, atsumu miya ;
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pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1k synopsis atsumu considers marriage to be a trap, until he realizes that even a lifetime commitment to you isn't long enough content contains fluff, talks of marriage!!!! he's a softie
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It starts off like this: nobody sees Atsumu Miya getting married — not now, not ever, not in the foreseeable future, nor in any of the millions of alternate and parallel universes that may or may not exist.
You’re just not the type of person we see settling down. 
Yeah, that might be true, but it still stings a little. It stings when he sees the white picket fences, and the cars with the MY KID’S AN HONOR STUDENT bumper stickers. It stings when he happens to accidentally catch a rerun of those family-centered sitcoms; the ones where they argue during the day and make up at night, with some cliche moral to the over dramatic situations that have occurred onscreen fifteen minutes ago. It stings when he watches his teammates get engaged and he has to congratulate them — he’s genuinely happy for them, don’t get him wrong — but still… 
It doesn’t matter. Atsumu Miya has long since held the firm belief that he’s just not the type of person the whole “fall in love, get married, have a family, cue the domesticity cuteness overload” schtick is meant for. Besides, it’s not like it’s something he’s spent years obsessing over (maybe months, at most). 
He rationalizes his bachelor status (that’s been a part of him for so long that it’s getting to become somewhat of a red flag for potential girlfriends) as him being the only one left with his priorities straight. After all, he doesn't have to worry about things like parent-teacher conferences or crayon drawings on the wall or trying to buy flowers to make sure the wife isn’t too mad when he comes home late. 
After all, he tells everyone, settling down is still settling. 
And Atsumu Miya, under no circumstances, ever settles.
Which is an ideal he clings to with such a tight grip, if it were flesh and blood, it would be suffocating. He doesn’t, he decides after a while, believe in marriage. 
(That is to say: he doesn’t believe that it’s possible for him. 
It’s not what he says explicitly, but it’s what he truly means.) 
So, when he tells you this on your second date, you’re a little stunned, but you’re quick to recover. Okay… So that’s the explanation you’ve been waiting for. The reason why this six feet two inches tall professional athlete with a bank account he generously withdraws money from has been single for so long is because he doesn’t believe in marriage. 
Other than that, he’s been nothing but great. Near perfect. So, all you do is nod and continue on with the original topic of the conversation. Eventually, your budding romance blooms into something much bigger than either of you ever anticipated or saw coming, and while you yourself have never mentioned the M-word after that date, it’s all Atsumu can think about right now. 
Marriage.
The concept of it looms over your relationship; a perpetual gray cloud that threatens to flood this perfect little relationship and have it all go down the drain. You never brought it up after he basically told you he would never marry anyone, and he never brought it up purely because — well — he’s a bit of a coward. 
He’s the type of person who’s set on his own convictions, by the way. If his balls ever drop, and he decides to Man Up, he figures he’ll start the conversation just like that. His stubbornness is nothing new to you, but him figuring out that he might be wrong makes his stomach feel funny. It’s sick and twisted. 
“Hey, what do you want for dinner tonight? I’m at the store right now, and I’m in the mood to cook.” He can picture it clearly: you, standing in one of the grocery store aisles, phone balanced in between your ear and shoulder as you compare the ingredients of the name brand and generic cereal. 
He’s in the locker room, about to pack up his gym bag (that you’ll complain reeks) and head back to his apartment (that’s starting to feel a lot more like yours, with the way your skincare products dominate the bathroom counter), and it hits him so suddenly, he has to sit back down on the bench. 
Atsumu Miya thinks that marriage isn’t for him, and as a defense mechanism, he decides that marriage sucks anyway. But through the tinny speakers of his phone, he can hear you toss something in the shopping cart. He hears the faint crying of a toddler in the background, and then he starts to think about what it would be like to walk around the store with a baby that takes after you. Right now, you’re already sleeping in the same bed with him at least four times out of the week, but it would be perfect, he thinks, to get the privilege to wake up to you every morning.
“Atsumu?” You try to get his attention, and Atsumu tries to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling he gets when he considers a future with you. Settling down is still settling, he tells himself, and then he thinks of the way you looked when you caught the bouquet at a friend’s wedding. The pleased smile on your face, the triumphant way you held the flowers over your head, head thrown back in glee; you looked absolutely radiant. You caught his eye, and you quickly lowered your hands, giving him a sheepish grin. 
He realizes now that if anyone is settling, it’s you. You don’t know that he notices the way you tear up at weddings, or how excited you sound when you get back from dress shopping with one of your friends. You want to get married, and the only thing stopping you is him.
He’s spent ages deluding himself into thinking that he’s somehow losing if he decides to trap himself into a marriage with someone, but no one can accuse him of settling when it’s you he’s marrying. You’re the prize. You’re the only person in the world he wants to give his last name and an obnoxiously big ring to. 
“Make whatever you want, baby. I’ll eat anything.” He’s checking the locations for the nearest jewelers in his immediate vicinity. “I might be a little late, though. I have to check on something.” 
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ghostfacd · 6 months
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YOU PUT THE BALLAD IN THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. in which yn takes her career to the next level and drops a few bangers that left everyone in awe
installment of this au (recommend reading for context !!)
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ynuser guys. a lil secret i’ve been holding onto for my dear life that not even my bf knows, i wrote a song for tbosas!! you’ll definitely hear it after the movie’s over and the credits starts rolling. a fun, challenging, and exciting experience and i really really felt like i outdone myself so hopefully you guys like it as much as i do 🥹 (p.s first photo is when tom and i listened to it for the first time together and he was just in awe)
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tomblyth i love you my talented songbird !!
➥ user1 time to cry he called her his songbird
➥ user2 this is a sign that i should probably move on from tom blyth.. 😔
user3 just listened to it, it was absolutely amazing. yn stays changing lives
user4 YOU’RE SO TALENTEDDD
rachezegler lucy gray irl
➥ ynuser stopp ily
conangray YN AVOCOT, I LOVE YOU! - your #2 supporter (because tom insisted on being #1)
➥ tomblyth damn right i’m #1
user5 the second pic of her and tom 🥹🥹
user6 conan and yn r the best friends we needed
user7 her life seems so fun omg im jealous
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ynuser oops.. another secret?
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rachelzegler YN.
rachelzegler NOT TELLING UR OWN BEST FRIEND ABOUT IT?
➥ conangray stealing my title?? 😡😡
➥ ynuser you both are my best friends!
➥ tomblyth i thought i was your best friend?
user8 not the best friend argument 🫢
user9 GIRLL IM SO EXCITED FOR THE ALBUM
user10 she can act, she can sing, what else can’t she do?
user11 GUTS!
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tomblyth hi guys! as you all know, my amazing girlfriend just released her first album — GUTS! it’s honestly such an amazing album with songs that yn has held super close to her heart. I would love it if you guys supported her because she honestly deserves the world. YN, I’m so incredibly proud to be your boyfriend.
tagged @/ynuser
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ynuser tom. im crying.
➥ rachelzegler can confirm, she’s in tears rn
user12 i am so grateful that they met each other because they make each other so happy 😓
user13 he bought her cd and album 😭😭 i need a bf like tom
user14 “i am so incredibly proud to be your boyfriend” get married already cause wow.
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witchywithwhiskey · 3 days
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tempting fate on the terrace
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pairing: father's business rival CEO!bucky barnes x female reader
summary: you're relaxing on bucky's penthouse terrace and eating ice cream when he tempts you into something more
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, creampie, come play, light teasing, light overstimulation, finger sucking, choking, light bdsm, semi-public sex, little bit of exhibitionism, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, pet names (darling), unspecified age gap, fluff
word count: 2,900ish
a/n: y'all have @biteofcherry to blame for this follow up, because i couldn't get her idea out of my head and i just had to write it 😅 i'm so so so so so happy with how this turned out. i kind of can't get enough of these naughty little lovebirds, i just love them so much!!! and i hope y'all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! ♡
tempting fate in the park (part 1)
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The spring sunshine was perfectly warm on your face, and you stretched your legs out, sinking further into the soft cushions of the outdoor sofa as you considered whether you should trade in your Brooklyn brownstone for a Manhattan penthouse. Specifically a penthouse with a terrace as pretty as the one belonging to Bucky Barnes. 
You licked your ice cream cone thoughtfully, gazing through the greenery that had been set up around the edge of the terrace to give it a sense of privacy. The whole of Manhattan seemed to sprawl beyond the edge of Bucky’s penthouse and you enjoyed the view almost as much as you loved the tree-lined Brooklyn street where you lived.
But your brownstone didn’t have a concierge to go buy ice cream and cones so you could have a delightful treat after being ruined by one of the most powerful CEOs in the city—who also happened to be your father’s business rival. That said, your apartment did have a bagel store around the block with the best bagels in New York City…
You were distracted from comparing the benefits of your home to Bucky’s by the door to the terrace sliding open with a soft sound. The man who had been nothing more than your father’s business rival—until he’d become much, much more—paused just outside the door, his hands slipping into the pockets of his lounge pants while he stared at you lazing about on his outdoor sofa.
You grinned, taking a long lick of your ice cream as you stared right back at him. He looked deliciously comfortable in his lounge pants and simple gray t-shirt, the soft cotton pulling tight across his broad shoulders. His brown hair was a little disheveled from how much you’d run your fingers through it, and his blue eyes sparkled in the golden late afternoon light. 
“Y’know, darling, I could get used to seeing you looking so comfortable in my home,” Bucky rumbled as he prowled over to the sofa, lifting your legs and sitting down so they sprawled across his lap. Since he was closer, you could better see the way his eyes darkened as he raked them along your body. “And I could definitely get used to seeing you wear my clothes.” He fingered the bottom hem of the button-up shirt you were wearing—the one you’d stolen off his floor and put on because it smelled like him. “In fact, maybe it should be a rule that you only wear my clothes when you’re here.”
You laughed, the sound bright and airy as you tipped your head back, and you were still smiling when you looked back at Bucky. “You already made it a rule that I can’t wear panties while I’m here,” you pointed out, kicking him lightly with your bare foot. “At this rate, I’ll have to walk around naked, and I love your terrace too much for that—your neighbors are going to see me and we’re actually going to get that public indecency charge.”
Bucky’s hands had begun to massage your calves, slowly working their way up your legs but he paused in thought, his gaze going distant as he stared out over the city. “Y’know, I don’t think you can get charged for public indecency if you’re naked on a private terrace,” he said, then turned mischievous eyes on you. “Why don’t we test it out,” he teased in a deliciously warm tone, his hands slipping up your thighs to push the hem of your shirt up, revealing your bare pussy to his gaze.
“Jamie—someone could see!” you cried, laughing and pushing him away half-heartedly with one hand while you tried to hold your ice cream cone stable in the other. But Bucky turned and wedged his body between your legs so you couldn’t close them, his gaze heating as he stared down at the apex of your thighs.
“Christ, your pussy looks pretty with my come spilling out of it,” Bucky muttered, almost to himself, his fingers trailing through your still sticky folds. Your hips stuttered up against his fingertips and you sucked in a gasp as he brushed gently against your sensitive clit. “So fucking pretty, darling.” 
“Jamie.” That time, when you said his name, it was more of a whimper, the sound so desperate it made heat flood your cheeks. You and Bucky had already fucked three times since you’d arrived at his penthouse, it was amazing that your body was still hungry for more. It felt like you’d be hungry for Bucky for the rest of your life.
Bucky looked up at you, grinning when he saw the needy look on your face. “You might want to finish your ice cream, darling, because I’m fucking another load into your pretty cunt the second you’re done,” he said, his voice low and gravelly and making you shiver as warmth pooled between your thighs. 
Grabbing the collar of Bucky’s shirt, you pulled yourself up to sit, your legs wrapped around his waist from the side and held your treat out to him. “Help me finish, Jamie,” you begged in a playful tone, giving him a sweet smile as if you didn’t hear the double entendre of your words. 
Bucky held your gaze as he leaned forward and took a big bite of your ice cream, chomping on some of the cone and making you laugh. But the warm spring sunshine was hot enough that the ice cream was soon dripping down your fingers and you quickly licked it up. Bucky watched you for a moment before he wrapped a hand around your throat and dragged you in for a messy kiss, the sweet taste of ice cream filling your senses just as much as the rich taste that was all Bucky.
Together, the two of you finished off your ice cream, laughing and kissing and tasting each other. When the cone was gone, you licked the sticky sweetness from Bucky’s fingers, your tongue teasing over his skin while you watched his blue eyes darken with desire. Once you were done, he tortured you in much the same way, his tongue sliding between your fingers in such an obscene way, you let out a soft moan as you imagined his warm mouth pressed between your thighs instead.
By the time every trace of ice cream had been licked from your skin, you were soaking wet and desperate for Bucky; you pulled him in for a kiss. He made quick work of unbuttoning the shirt you wore and pushing it down over your shoulders while your fingers dove beneath his t-shirt. You raked your nails lightly through the dark hair that decorated his chest, delighting in the softness of it against your fingertips. He groaned into your mouth, breaking away only to pull his shirt off. 
Then he was laying you down on the sofa and pushing his lounge pants off to pool at his feet before he climbed over you, covering your body with his broader form. His hips settled between your thighs, his hard length nestling perfectly between your slick lower lips. 
“Fuck, you feel good, darling,” Bucky rumbled on a moan, moving his hips back and forth, just enough to slide the hard ridge of his cock against your puffy clit. “Wanna be buried in this cunt every fucking moment of the day—you’re tuning me into some pussy-drunk idiot,” he growled, kissing and nipping at your jaw while his hand circled your throat, his fingers digging lightly into the sides.
You huffed a sound that was half laugh, half shuddering moan, your legs hooking around the backs of Bucky’s thighs and using the leverage to grind against his bare cock. “If it makes you feel any better, all I can think about is how badly I want to be your cockdrunk little slut,” you murmured in his ear, nuzzling your cheek against the scruff on his jaw and delighting in the delicious rasp against your skin. “I think about sitting under your desk in your office, your cock in my throat, keeping you warm while you work.”
“Oh fuck—fuck, darling,” Bucky groaned, rocking against you harder, his cock growing wet and slick with your juices the more he slid through your pussy lips. “When you’re not here and I’m stroking my cock, I think about fucking you at one of your father’s boring galas,” he rumbled, his words coming faster to match the speed of his hips. “I think about sinking my cock into you and pumping you full of come and making you go back out to the party with my load dripping down your thighs beneath your gown.”
You raked your fingers through Bucky’s soft hair, clinging to him while your hips kept rocking together. His hard cock was rubbing your clit and his words were spinning delicious fantasies and it was too much. You felt your release swelling within you, threatening to overwhelm you, but you didn’t want to come against his cock, you wanted to come on his cock.
“Jamie,” you cried on a gasp, babbling words that you hoped made sense so he’d know what you wanted, “I can’t—I’m gonna—please, inside me—come, please!” 
Thankfully, Bucky understood your nonsense and he chuckled against your cheek. “Remember to be quiet, darling,” he rumbled, the warmth in his tone telling you he was grinning. “Don’t want the neighbors to hear you and risk finding out about whether we can get a public indecency charge on my private terrace.”
Before you could even think to respond to his teasing, Bucky pulled back, the tip of his cock needing no guidance to find your dripping hole. He slid inside easily, stretching you out around his cock. Your cunt was so wet, and you were so close to coming, it felt like your body was sucking him in deeper, your inner walls clinging to him as he split you open with his cock.
Despite Bucky’s warning, you groaned loudly—not because you wanted to find out about the indecency charge, but because you simply couldn’t control yourself. No matter how many times Bucky fucked you, every time he pushed deep into your cunt, it felt so good your mind went fuzzy with pleasure. You never wanted it to end, you wanted him inside you all the time, always and forever.
When the head of his cock pushed against your cervix, he grunted in pleasure while you moaned your own delight. Bucky dug his fingers deeper into the sides of your throat, cutting off your sound of ecstasy while he lifted himself up enough to see you. His eyes roved hungrily over your face, eagerly drinking in the way your expression twisted in pleasure as he pulled back and thrust inside you again, his hips clapping against your thighs. 
“Dirty, filthy girl,” Bucky grunted, thrusting into you to punctuate each word. “Can never be quiet when I tell you.”
You tried to smirk up at him, but another hard driving thrust had your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open on a silent moan. With what you thought was a valiant effort, you mannaged to huff, “That’s because I like it when you make me be quiet, Mr. Barnes.” 
Bucky’s eyes narrowed on you and his mouth twisted into a determined snarl. “You know I prefer when you call me Jamie,” he growled, fucking you harder and faster, pressing his face close to yours so you could feel his warm breath ghost over your cheek. “You call me Jamie when my cock is deep in your cunt and I’m about to pump you full of my fourth load today—d’you hear me, darling?”
It was so much fun riling Bucky up, and you were enjoying the result of your efforts, your body lighting up from within as he pounded into you. But you knew he wanted an answer to his question, so you parted your lips and babbled, “Yes, sir, you feel so good, Jamie—love it when you fuck me hard, Jamie, please!”
“There’s my good girl,” Bucky rumbled, his tone as warm as the sunshine falling across your bare skin. He brushed a kiss to your cheek and pushed your thighs wider, fucking you in deep, grinding thrusts that had his pelvis rubbing perfectly against your clit. “Now come on my cock, darling, wanna feel your cunt choking my dick like I’m choking your pretty throat.”
As if you could resist an order like that. 
At Bucky’s filthy words, you came undone. The swelling pleasure in your core burst, and your body went taut as wave after wave of overwhelming sensation washed over you. Your lips parted in a scream that Bucky made sure stayed silent, his big hand gripping your throat so tightly, it made your entire being focus in on everything your body was feeling, every little spark and fizzle of pleasure that came from his cock, his hand—him.
“Good girl, so good, feel so fucking good, darling, fuck—fuck,” Bucky groaned, his hips thrusting wildly between your thighs until he pressed deep and let out a low grunt. His cock twitched and throbbed inside you and you knew he was coming, your clenching pussy milking every drop of his load from his balls. 
“Jamie,” you murmured when he loosened his grip on your throat. “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie.” Your chanting words were a plea and a prayer, which Bucky seemed to understand because his arms dug beneath your body so he could cradle you tight to his chest until there wasn’t a breath of air between you. You rode out your releases like that, your bodies writhing together, clinging to one another, unwilling to let the other move even a millimeter away. 
Slowly, eventually, the two of you settled, your body melting beneath Bucky’s while his cock softened inside you. His come spilled from your slit, sliding down between your ass cheeks. But you couldn’t be bothered by the mess the two of you had made, not when it felt too good to simply lay with Bucky, both of you naked and basking in the golden spring sunshine.
“Sooo,” you began, drawing out the word as you trailed your fingers through Bucky’s soft hair. He rumbled a short hum of acknowledgement. “D’you think any of your neighbors heard us?”
That had Bucky chuckling. He pressed a kiss to your neck, his lips finding the same spot where his fingers had dug in, making you shiver. “What’re they gonna do, tell me I can’t fuck my girlfriend on my own private terrace?” he grumbled. 
You went still beneath him and Bucky could feel the change in you, immediately lifting himself up so he could see your face. At his questioning look, you whispered, “That’s the first time you’ve called me your girlfriend.” You hated how small your voice sounded, but you were suddenly very afraid it was a slip of the tongue that Bucky would take back the second you pointed it out.
But he didn’t. Instead, his eyes went soft and he ducked down to press a sweet and firm kiss to your lips. “You’re my girlfriend,” he said resolutely, but then paused and gave you a look you couldn’t decipher. “Unless you don’t want to be.”
Your eyes widened and your fingers dug possessively into the back of his neck. “No, no, I want to be, I want to be,” you assured him quickly, smiling when he looked relieved. You pulled him down for another kiss, though it was difficult because you were grinning so hard. “Does this mean you’re my boyfriend, Jamie?”
“Of course I am,” he growled, nipping playfully at your lip and making you giggle.
“OK good,” you said with a happy sigh, going back to raking your fingers through his hair. “Then as your girlfriend,” you began, a teasing lightheartedness in your tone. “I demand my boyfriend get me another ice cream cone—since he ate half of mine.” When Bucky cut his eyes to yours, you gave him your best innocent pout, even though you knew he saw right through you. 
“Anything for you, darling,” he rumbled, dropping a kiss to your lips before he extricated himself from your body and sat up. He pulled his lounge pants back on and then tugged his t-shirt on over your head, a pleased smile curving his lips at the sight of you wearing his clothes. 
When Bucky dragged you up from the sofa, you tugged the hem of his shirt down over your ass, not wanting to flash any neighbors who might be looking, even though the greenery around the edge of the terrace would likely block you from view. Still, if you ever happened to move into Bucky’s penthouse, you didn’t want to have a reputation for walking around naked.
Not that you could see yourself giving up your beloved Brooklyn brownstone. 
Probably.
Unless Bucky asked you to move into his penthouse…
Thankfully, you were distracted from what a future with Bucky would mean for your housing situation by the man himself pulling your favorite flavor of ice cream from his freezer. He turned to you with a happy grin, looking devastatingly handsome and at home in his penthouse kitchen.
Right then, you decided you weren’t going to be tempting fate on the terrace again. It had been fun to fuck your boyfriend where any of his neighbors could have overheard or caught a glimpse of you, but you didn’t want to risk it again.
Just in case you did end up moving into Bucky Barnes’ penthouse.
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s-4pphics · 5 months
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click! 4 (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]
WORD COUNT: 6.7k 
WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black, angst… these hoes toxic, crazy sexual tension, kissing!!! :), fondling, dry humping, fingering!!, some dirty talk uh oh, slight unrequited love, bad communication… like awful, more slut shaming, mentions of awful parents, brief mention of alc and weed
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This eucalyptus face mask is not doing what it’s supposed to! 
Ultimate calming effect! Relaxation is at your feet and on your face! 
… Yeah, right. Why is your blood pressure touching the ceiling, then? 
It’s fucking Sunday and it’s dark outside. It’s not even seven yet. You can hear rustling in the living room and you know Ellie’s prepping for today. Your anxiety is through the roof and in the clouds! 
Why the fuck did you accept this much responsibility again? What if you look like a fucking idiot and she fires you? Is this even a job if it’s a one-time thing? Your hands are sweating. Is it too late to jump out your window and plummet to your death?
Meow! Meow! 
“Good morning, baby girl! Are you hungry?” You hear Ellie coo through the wall and your heart sores. You'd be smiling so wide if this mask wasn’t solid concrete. 
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You walk into the living room and are blinded by the bright ceiling lights. Your bill is going to skyrocket! 
“Hi.” 
Ellie, cat in arms, jumps at your voice, spinning to face you. Your skin is on fire as her eyes glaze over your appearance, cheeks tinting and fingers twitching under the thick fur. 
“Hey… you look… you look nice,” She mutters back, and you smile. 
“Thank you.” 
Meow!
Ellie’s brow arches at the baby. “Yeah? You think so, too?” 
Meow! Meow!
Ellie sets her down and lets her roam, shoving her hands into her sweats. She takes a step closer. “What’re we gonna name her?” 
“Toothle— “
Ellie rolls her eyes, “Oh my god, that’s so fucking basic.”
“Well, excuse me! I’ll shut the fuck up!” You snark playfully, “What were you thinking, Ms. I don’t fuck with animals?”
“I already told yo— “
“AHT, AHT!” You hold a finger up to hush her and she scoffs, “Toothless is one of the best animated characters of our time! Loyal, cute as fuck! Fuck everybody else in that movie! Show the drag—”
“Pickle.” 
“What.” 
“I’ve been calling her Pickle! Her name is pickle.” Ellie’s smiling at the pattering kitten, and, for some reason, you don’t fight her on it. She looks so happy; Pickle it is. 
She’s clicking her tongue at Pickle who rubs against her covered leg. With those gray sweats on, she’s luring two cats over—
“You ready?” Ellie exhales. Your eyes widen, yanked out of your drifting thoughts. You nod gently, jitters kicking in your fingertips. 
“Sorry you had to wake up this early. It takes a while for me to edit and all that, but— “
“Ellie, don’t worry! I’m — I’m excited! Just, uh… Just guide me, I guess. You’re the one with the vision.” You’re not sure if the shoot or Ellie is making you nervous. She smells so good, freshly showered and warmth radiating off of her. 
“… Guide you?” She smirks. 
Suddenly, the air is hot. “Yeah, like… tell me what to do… f-for the shot.” You awkwardly point at the set. 
“Giving me permission to use you?” She wisps and your lashes flutter, head bobbing dumbly in approval. The other cat has made her appearance! She’s meowing! Somebody stop her! 
“Alright, then… go sit.” Ellie’s head nods towards the black stool in the middle of the backdrop, and you’re moving like a trackstar, plopping down on the stool. Ellie clicks her tongue again and Pickle meows. 
“Gonna put her in my room for now. Don’t wanna scare her.” She scoops Pickle up and waddles into the short hallway, giving kit-kat one last kiss before softly shutting her door. 
Your catless roomie is in front of you in an instant, fiddling with that big ass umbrella before adjusting her tripod. 
“So, explain. What does all this do?” 
“Um…” she looks through her camera lense. Right at you, “Different things. Has to do with light control for the most part. Red is your color, by the way.” 
You gaze at your fit; You’re going to cry. “Thanks.” 
“Mhm.” 
Some silence passes before Ellie grumbles, “You’re slouching.” 
Your shoulders instantly straighten. Maybe too much, “No, I’m not.” 
A blank look from Ellie as she peeks from behind the lense, “Don’t slouch. You’re the star, remember?” She jabs jokingly. You take a deep breath. Another clumsy adjustment trying to find a pose. 
Ellie snorts as she watches you struggle, and you pout. “I'm sorry! I don’t know…” You move like a robot and she laughs. Why is she walking closer? Oh, fuck— 
“Here.” Her hands grab your shoulders, and you go lax, right in her grasp, allowing her to move you however she wants. Her touch is melting your skin through your sleeves. 
“Just… stay there.” Three wide steps, and she’s behind her camera, “Chin down a little.” She mutters. She’s encouraging with every instruction you follow, and you’re relaxing. Your movements are small, but by the series of bright flashes, they must be good enough to capture. You hope. Please, God. 
“Stay right there. That’s perfect.” 
“That’s it. Yeah, put your leg there.” 
“Twist your body a little.” 
I like that look, that’s good. Keep doing that. 
You don’t know what your eyes are doing, but Ellie's eating it up. She doesn’t know what her words are doing for your confidence. She’s in your ears, in your presence, encouraging everything you’re giving the flashing camera. Your poses get bolder, eyes going softer the more you inspect her. 
“Chin down again. Like… look through your lashes…” 
Ellie’s so focused on you and it’s making your mouth water. She’s so calm and controlling, but not overbearing. She lets you take the reins and yanks them when she’s got something. The twist of your wrist, the flutter of your lashes, the doting expression on your face. It’s sparking something in her, you can see it from where you sit. She's so attractive when she’s working. 
And then she smiles and your heart leaps. Flash. 
“You like this.” She notes. 
Another flash when you smile, “A little. This is fun.” 
“Oh, yeah? I’m getting booked for your grad pics?” 
Not if you fail statistics! “Gonna have to ask my dad! He’s picky!” 
She hums with a light chuckle. “You look good in these. He’ll like me.” 
More flashes, and there’s scratching at Ellie’s door. She sighs like it pains her to continue, “Hold on, baby! Almost done!” She coos at Pickle. 
She mutters, “I’m gonna take, like… ten more. The mood’s gonna change a little if that’s cool.” 
You stop yourself from slouching. “Sure, uh… what do I do now?” 
“Imagine love as a vice. Think about the turmoil that comes with losing that feeling for somebody.” 
Your mind instantly whirls to Dina and your heart cracks. What a turn of fucking events! 
“Um… is that like… isn’t that like, a lot?” 
Ellie’s unfazed, “Emotions are a lot. That’s the point.” 
You don’t like this anymore. Vulnerability. Blegh. “… Okay.” 
She’s waiting on you, but you’re frozen. You can’t stop thinking about every moment you and Dina spent together. Everything was so… good. It was filled with happiness. You anticipated every day that came because it meant you’d see her. 
“Alright?” 
You look up at Ellie’s call. You ignore her. 
“Am I emoting well?” You snicker sarcastically. You’re aching inside. 
She studies you, all over your face, but you’re stunted. You don’t know what to say.
“Yes.” She whispers, and you nod, mind wandering to the darkest parts of your memory. You miss being happy. The camera’s flashing, but you’re unperturbed. How much will you be able to ruin before you die? If your wallowing is jeopardizing the shot, Ellie doesn’t comment on it. You focus on the clock ticks coming from the kitchen. 
Ellie’s gentle voice pulls you from underwater after a while, “Okay… I think that’s it.” Your breath is ragged and your fingers won’t stop twitching. You’re up from your seat with a breathy okay, sliding into the kitchen and stealing a water bottle from the fridge. There’s cluttering behind you but you’re desperately downing your drink. 
She's closer than you think. Right behind you, actually! You almost choke when her hand softly closes around your bicep.
“Hey, um… You okay?”
You swallow harshly and nod, blinking away tears; She’s so close, “Love fucking sucks.” You joke wetly. 
A laugh that caresses your ears escapes her, “Damn. Fuck that shit, then.” 
“Finally, someone gets it! Fuck, like…” You set your water down and wipe away heavy droplets with your free arm. Ellie’s eyes travel over your face, lands of green sparkling in her pupils. 
“I really appreciate you doing this for me.” She whispers. 
“Of course!” Your smile is delicate, “I hope there’s something in there you can use.” 
Her head shakes, smile as gentle as rose petals, “I got it, trust me.” 
The silence that follows is heavy, your breaths in sync. “Was… Are you okay?” You’ve never seen her eyes this delicate. You nod, eyes dropping to her mouth on instinct. You’re suddenly back in your car, you and Ellie leaning over the center console to get to each other. Her breath is hitting your face again, and you’re itching for her to kiss you. 
She’s reading your body language the closer she gets, checking in, memorizing every green light you’re giving her. 
“Ellie…” You can’t even hear yourself. Her hand unravels from your arm, frosting your sizzling cheek like snowflakes. Her warmth is engulfing you, and with one last breath, her lips connect with yours. It's short lasting, though. Ellie pulls away, shock plastered on her face. 
She's stuttering and slowly backing away… or something like that. You’re not listening, nor do you want an apology. You grab the drawstring dangling from her gray hoodie and yank her closer, mouth pressing against hers. 
Ellie’s stiffness melts, weightless against you as your mouths mold together. She's sighing, arm wrapping around your waist, warmth simmering between your closed bodies. Your arms wrap around her neck as she inches forward, small steps until you're pressed against the marble. 
The kiss is slow and steady. You both give in to each other, studying, memorizing every inch of her mouth. Gentle smacks sound in the silent space of the kitchen, clammy hands traveling anywhere they can reach: the nape of her neck, massages on your hips, steadying your stumbles as you push against her. Your fingers inch upwards until they're at her sloppily done bun, loosening the hair tie and pulling as gently as you can, soft strands wrapping around your digits like vines. 
Ellie’s humming and her hips push against you, so you pull again, smiling gently into the kiss. She pushes again, harder this time, hips languid as they trap you against the counter. Your thighs widen for her, and she takes the lead, hands digging into your thighs and lifting you onto the granite. 
The kiss turns desperate swiftly after, Ellie’s tongue pushing past your mouth, her hands slowly pulling your tucked shirt from your pants. You’re biting at her lip, caressing her thighs over her sweats, trapping her between your legs, keeping her close. 
One last wet smack and you’re traveling down her jaw to the side of her neck, littering kisses all over her burning skin. You try not to make your inhales too obvious, but you can’t help it. Her scent drives you up a wall. 
She follows your lead, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck, sucking the skin, lightly scratching at the skin on your hips. She yanks you closer, nearly sitting you on top of her, ass barely on the counter—
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
You both jolt like you’ve been caught, a thin line of spit connecting your bottom lips. 
“Expecting someone?” She mumbles dazedly, and you silently deny. “Are you?” 
“Be serious.” She says flatly. 
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! 
The pounds on the door aren’t shit to Ellie, apparently; Her lips are back on you in a second. A gasp surges through you, “Oh, fuck! What if someone saw Pickle and they’re tryna— “
“She’ll be fine,” she whines between suckles on your throat. 
You whimper wantonly, but the knocks get aggressive. It has to be Carol! You don’t want Ellie to stop, but you push her.
“E—Ellie— “
She releases you with an annoyed huff, giving you enough room to hop off the counter. Scratches and meows alert you once more, and you run to the front door, whisper-yelling to Ellie, “Hide Pickle! Hide her!”
“Okay, okay, damn,” She sighs in annoyance, heading back down the hallway. You can hear Ellie’s soft shushes to the kitty, meows swiftly replaced with purrs. You think Pickle has chosen her favorite parent. 
You yank the door open and your heart plummets. 
“Hey, uh… hi.” Abby’s voice cracks and her nose is glowing red. Your heart pulls in your chest at the sight of her soft eyes. 
“Hi, Abby,” You say softly. She shyly peers at her feet. “How are you?”
A soft smile spreads across her face, “I’m not here to talk about me, I wanna apologize. I, um… I wanted to call but I thought I’d do it in person.” 
“No need. I’m sorry, to— “
But Abby isn’t having it, dropping onto one knee in the middle of the complex hallway, taking your hand in hers, “Oh, how I treated Thee, for I am full of regret. What do I owe Thou the pleasure of forgiveness?” 
You holler laughter, “Bitch, is that a question? What the fuck do I say to that.” 
“… I actually don’t know, what the fuck— “
“You’re actually the fucking worst, get up,” You’re pulling your friend to her feet and wrapping your arms around her neck, pressing light kisses to her cheek. She lifts you and carries you inside, kicking the door shut. 
“Was it Carol?” 
You barely hear your roommate from behind you. Abby sets you down, and you’re met with a… blank Ellie. This version of her is almost unfamiliar. 
“Hm?”
“Was,” Her eyes flicker towards your friend, “Was it Carol?” Your eyes flicker to Abby, confused as ever. 
“Um, no, thank God, right?” You laugh awkwardly, “Ellie, this is Abby. Abby, this is Ellie, my new roomie.” 
Abby slaps on her signature smile, extending her hand in greeting, “Nice to meet you. I heard a lot.”
Ellie’s eyes flicker between Abby’s hand and her face, eyes squinted. She only nods before murmuring to you, “Pickle’s fed. Lock the door if you leave.” 
Your mouth drops, but before you can say anything, Ellie’s door slams shut, lock clicking, barricading herself, shut off from the outside. Pickle scurries into your open space at the noise. A stunned Abby finally drops her hand and turns to you with an expression reading I told you so. Your heart jolts and it’s painful. 
“C’mon,” Abby coos, hands massaging your shoulders, “I owe you pancakes.” 
You try to smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Not like it should at the mention of a free meal. For some reason, you feel guilty. 
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IHOP needs to have their holiday menus all year round; These cinnamon roll pancakes are fucking lethal! You shoved your platter down and already want seconds. Abby’s too sweet to you. 
“Abby.” 
“Hm?” She gnaws at her turkey bacon. 
“I’m in a predicament.” 
“What’s the matter.” 
“I think I like Ellie.” 
Your friend pauses before sighing, “Alright. So, what’s the plan?” 
“To die, I think. That’s the only plan.” 
“Don’t say that,” she chuckles. You shrug. 
“We made out and I liked it,” You whisper, “Like, a lot.” 
“Did y’all smash?” You shake your head. 
“Are you gonna tell her?” 
You scoff, “Did you miss the part where I said to die? I’d rather die. She hates my fucking guts all over again.” 
“I don’t think she does.” 
“You don’t know her, Abby— “
“I know a jealous munch when I see one,” She smirks, “I was one for a long time.” 
Your jaw drops, “Really? With who?” 
She grins, but it doesn’t meet her eyes, “Don’t worry about it.” 
You pout. Why didn’t she tell you?! Poor thing. You place a comforting hand on top of hers.
“Promise to tell me before graduation. I need some shit to look forward to.” 
“Like you’re gonna remember.” 
“Fuck off! I never forget anything!” 
“Yeah, anyway, your roomie was jealous— “
Your shoulders drop and your eyes roll. Ellie and jealousy? Together? Bullshit. Tomfoolery. Fake news. 
“Abby, I can't tell her— “
“Can’t or won’t?” Abby arches a brow, “You know what you do and don’t want. You’re creating stupid rules that combat your feelings and wonder why you end up hurt. Cut it out.” 
… Either face your fears of abandonment or die alone. Interesting ultimatum. You choose the latter. 
“You’re very easy to read, believe it or not. You like her. Accept it or move on,” Abby mumbles around her extra-crispy hash brown. 
You sigh. You’ve accepted it a long time ago; That's the issue. The only thing that can help you right now is more fucking cinnamon roll pancakes. Abby better leave this apology tab open. 
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You’re hit with the usual warmth of the apartment the second you step in, finding Ellie on the couch with her feet kicked up, mindlessly fiddling with your favorite pen. Her silence makes your skin crawl; You never know what she’s thinking. 
“So, what,” You shrug, setting your to-go bag on the counter, “Are you just gonna pout or are we gonna have an adult conversation?” 
“I don’t think you’re capable of that,” She mumbles. 
“What does that mean?” 
“It means what it sounds like. You’re fucking immature and inconsiderate.” 
Your heart nearly stops, “I’m— “
She slices through your words, “Save that I don’t know what you mean bullshit for someone else. If you and that bitch are still fucking, why the fuck did you kiss me?” 
Her accusation makes you snap, “First of all, I haven’t fucked Abby in weeks! And even if I did, that’s none of your fucking business! I can do whatever the fuck I want and I don’t need to explain myself to you! And you kissed me first so don’t start!” 
A grin grows on Ellie face, head tipping back onto the couch as she laughs to herself, sighing in disbelief, “I never thought I would regret a kiss so much in my fucking life, oh my god.” 
You scoff, ignoring the sudden ache in your chest, “Fuck you.” 
“You want to.” 
You hate how heat builds in your stomach, “I want to?” You snark, “You shoved your tongue in my mouth a few hours ago. You want to. Don’t fucking piss me off.” 
You stomp to your room before Ellie can say anything above her laughter. Your door slams and you pace across your small room. You ignore the stress building deep in your joints; The term is almost over. You don’t need this fucking bullshit on your back right now! 
To think you and Ellie were starting to get on good terms. If she wants to play that game, then fine; You’ve mastered the sport at this point! The kiss meant nothing to you either!
You hope her Christmas is fucking awful and she finds nothing but a pile of fucking rocks in her marijuana sock. What a cunt—
Meow! Meow!
Your heart pulls at the small scratches at your door. You need your baby to give you some love since a certain someone won’t. Pickle calls out until you open the door, but your sad smile disappears at the sight of that someone propped against your door frame. 
“She wanted her mommy.” Ellie nods down at the kitten rubbing against your leg. 
“Fuck you.” You spit. 
“Fuck you.” 
“Fuck you!” You shout and lean closer, but she doesn’t seem threatened. That same sparkle in her eye is back, and, suddenly, your body’s flaming for another reason. The tip of her nose twitches, once, twice, three times, and you refuse to hold back any longer. 
You grab her face and kiss her. Kiss her as hard as you can. She’s so fucking aggravating; Why can’t she ever mind her fucking business? You’re sick of her clocking your pussy! The kiss is hot and quick and it sends vibrations down to your toes. It’s not until gentle purring fills your ears that you gasp and separate from your roommate. 
You bend down to pick up your little princess. Ellie’s lips reconnect with your neck the second you're upright. “Did she eat?” You mutter. 
“Mhm. Twice.” You nod and kiss her small, furry head, “She’s gonna be scratching at the door.” You ponder to yourself. 
“We’ll make it quick,” She mumbles in between harsh sucks to your throat, nibbles at your lobe. You escape the attention for a split second to grab Pickle’s small toy mouse from your dresser, tossing it down the hall and into the living room. Her small paws skip across the floor as she slides the trinket all over the hardwood. 
“We’re not fucking.” You say harsher than necessary. 
“I didn’t ask.”
You gently shut the door and jump Ellie’s bones, releasing all your pent-up frustration and anger into another kiss. The formerly gentle tugs of her hair are replaced with harsh yanks that expose her throat. Seconds pass and she’s pushing you onto your unmade bed, body bouncing before she climbs on top of you, reconnecting your mouths in the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever shared… It’s doing something to your cooter, though. You’re wet as fuck. 
Ellie’s fully onto top of you, body almost overheating from the layers of clothes between you. Her hips are sharp when they push into yours, swallowing all your stunned gasps and pleasured sighs. Your body is on fire and it’s making you lightheaded, but she feels so good on top. 
Ellie’s cursing against your mouth and she bucks into you, right against the muscle of your thigh, and you just watch the flames spread in her orbs. Not the comforting greenery that you could get lost in for days. The trees are black and surrounded by clustered rubble. She’s grunting against your cheek, her nose hitting yours with every thrust. 
A bold hand creeps between both your bodies and slips right into her wrinkly sweats, beneath her underwear, fingers drenched in seconds. You smirk when she whimpers your name between swears, palming the bud that throbs like a beating heart. Blush tints her cheeks the wetter she gets, pooling in your hand as you grind into her clit. 
Ellie’s cute. You’ll give her that. So, you rub her harder. 
“Agh, fuck, fuck— “
You're snickering to yourself but Ellie doesn’t care. She’s whining like a little bitch and humping you like a dog… 
Does she top? You should ask her after this. Post-nut gay quiz. 
“Finger me, put your— oh shit— “
“Hmm…” You suck your teeth, “Nah.” 
She glares down at you, leaving fiery holes in your cheek, “Don’t f—fucking piss me off right now.” 
You halt all your movements. “That’s all you’ve been doing since you got in this bitch. Shut the fuck up and take what I give you…” You pause, “Or get the fuck off me. Your choice.” 
A full one-eighty, truly. How she goes from looking at you with intent to kill to a wounded puppy in seconds. Poor thing wants a treat. Your entire hand is drenched in her juices; She can wait a little longer. 
“You ate my fucking Doritos.” 
“W—What?” She sounds like she’s going to cry. You can’t stop smiling. 
Slow circles on her clit, and her body wracks on top of you, “The ones I hid in the cabinet… Nasty little thief. Gonna buy me some more?” 
Her breathing is so rapid, “You’re so s—stupid fuck— “ 
“You’re gonna do more than that… gonna show me what’s in that fucking portfolio like you promised.” You whisper, hot against her face. 
This is the strangest dirty talk you’ve ever partaken in, but Ellie’s losing it on top of you. She hasn’t shut up yet. She’s hiding her face in your neck, words vibrating against your skin. You don’t know what she said, so you stop again. She sobs. 
You sound sweeter than candy, “What was that?” 
Ellie doesn’t answer. Just pants into your skin. You pat her clit a few times and she jerks to attention. “I asked you a question.” 
“Feels,” She heaves, “Feels so fucking good— “
“I didn’t ask you that.”
“I’ll show you — fuck, okay? Okay, okay, m’so close— “
Your thumb brushes against her clit, “I wanna see it after you nut.” 
She gasps words miles per minute, “I promise, Ipromise, touch me keep touching me— “
Ellie attempts to grind into your hand once more, but you stretch, slippery fingers sliding lower until the tip of your index catches onto her pulsing hole. You can barely hear, but she’s begging. Thank God you trimmed your nails. 
You push in gently, Ellie’s teeth grazing the skin right underneath your ear. A shiver runs down your spine. She grins before biting down on it. You moan into the boiling air. Your finger gets swallowed by her walls; She’s so fucking tight and soft and she’s clenching with every moan, your thighs squeezing around her hips. 
Ellie continues to grind on top of you, practically riding your finger, her moans increasing in volume. 
“E-Ellie, look at me, sit up—“ She doesn’t hesitate, clammy forehead resting on yours as you stare into her glossy, lustful eyes. They’re fluttering with every deep grind of your arched digit and your heart skips a beat. 
“Gimme one more, stretch me out,” she exhales onto your lips
“Sure?” You breathe. 
She groans, “Yeah, fuck, m’gonna cum when you do— “
“You gotta cute face,” you whisper and giggle when her eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment, middle finger popping past the small entrance 
“Fuck, babe, s’right there— “
Your walls clench at the name. Now you’re whining, “Gimme it. Hurry up so I can play with my kid.” 
“O-Our fucking kid—“ She chokes. 
You hum playfully, “Oddly domestic. Is this what marriage is like? Quickies in the laundry room when the baby’s watching Cocomelon?” 
“No — fuck, do you ever shut the fuck up?” You can’t even move from hard her walls are choking you, “M’cumming, Jesus fucking— son of a— “
Ellie’s walls grip your fingers as she trembles on top of you, lips crashing onto yours as she groans in your mouth, and you smile. You should’ve spit on her tongue, but you held back. She’s not ready. Fucking gremlin. 
Her orgasm rocks her into exhaustion, her body going completely limp on top of you as her hips twitch into your touch. You stare up at the ceiling, mind racing. 
You technically didn’t fuck! Your pussy is quite convincing. You didn’t, but you want to! 
“We didn’t fuck.” You mumble. 
She huffs dryly, voice low. Here comes the goosebumps! “Sure.” 
“We didn’t,” you bemoan and pull out, slick smearing on both your clothes before you present the wet digits in front of your face. Ellie finally lifts her head to join the inspection of your drenched, wrinkly fingers. She smells good. 
“Go wash your hands,” she croaks. 
“Mind your business.” You suck them clean and she snorts, rolling off and onto the bed. You sit up to open the door for Pick-Pick, but Ellie grabs your bicep. 
“What?” 
“You… You don’t want to…?” 
You look around blankly. 
“Do you want me to do something… like an exchange?” 
You’re not sure how to answer, but thankfully, curious meows and light scratching distract the both of you. You’re moving like a robot into the living room, Ellie right on your tail, cooing at the baby who rubs all over her. 
You take a seat on the… lavender-scented cushion. She bought a new freshener. 
“Ellie.” 
“What.” 
“I don’t like you.” 
A scoff from her, “I don’t care.” 
You pause. “… Wanna sniff my punani?” You mock. 
She takes a seat, swiftly followed by Pickle, and turns her head in your direction, lip between her teeth, “Can I?” 
“What.” 
“Just a whiff.” She hums between snickers. The sensors in your brain are on fire. Ellie is so confusing. 
You scratch your ear, stealing her habit, “You… You want to?” 
She grabs your discarded pen from the coffee table, “You want me to?” 
Yes. “No.” 
Ellie nods and continues to fiddle with it, obnoxiously clicking it over and over. She doesn’t fight you on it. How embarrassing. You really need head. 
Your eyes meet your sock-covered feet, “… I was just kidding,” You mumble. 
More pen clicking. “Come here for a second.” Your feet carry you at her grumble, plopping down onto the lavender-scented cushion. New freshener. 
“Is this gonna be… a regular thing?” 
Your head shakes a ton. It most definitely will not. You can’t take your eyes off how Ellie flips her pen. Her hands are bewitching. You need them in your throat again. 
“I think we… just needed to get it out of our system?” You suggest. Unfortunately, it seems neither of you are convinced. 
Pickle climbs up your sweatshirt, head rubbing against your chin. You peck her nose, “Why do you think that.” Ellie asks. 
“I’m not fucking someone I live with.” Your words are blunt, but Ellie doesn’t seem shaken by them. 
“Why.” 
“Because.” You say with finality. 
She sighs, “Because you’re scared of getting your feelings hurt by someone you care about again?” 
The bomb she drops is unexpected, but causes even more damage. Your shoulders immediately tense, on guard, “What the fuck…” How did she…
Ellie winces, “Don’t uh… don’t be mad…” 
“Why the fuck— how do you even know that?” 
“Dina told me.” She blurts and you jump from your seat, glowering at the girl who sheepishly taps her fingers on the couch. 
“The fuck do you mean Dina told you— “
More word-vomit. How long was she holding this shit from you? “S-She was my roommate. She’s the reason I got evicted— “
Your throat is closing, “…Is this a fucking joke?”
Ellie cowers at your tone, “Not really.” 
“When the fuck were you going to tell me that you’re friends with my fucking ex?!”
“We’re not friends!” She says meekly. “And you weren’t official— “
“It doesn’t fucking matter, Ellie! What the fuck!” Your efforts of holding tears back fail, as usual. You’re sick of crying in front of this broad. “She fu—fucking ruined my life!” The stares you get will never fail to make you sick. 
Ellie’s eyes remind you of glass. Breakable. You holler through sniffles, “Is that why you called me a fucking slut! Because that bitch told you some fake ass, fucked-up story about me whoring around campus?!” 
“Dude, I’m— “
“I fucked over the sweetest fucking girl on campus, right? The world’s best fucking pitcher got her heart broken by some low-life fucking artist with no future!” You rant until your breath is short, “I was fucking in love with her! I-I wanted to be with her, I would’ve died for her! I’m— “
Your hands desperately grasp at your chest to get your heart to ease the knocking against your ribcage. 
“You think I-I’m fucking easy, right? That’s why you came onto me earlier? ‘Cuz I’m a fucking whore?! A desperate sl—slut with no self-worth— “
The space you found comfort in is rapidly filling with darkness; You’re being sucked into a void of nothing and you can’t think. Ellie doesn’t move, just stares over you with feeble pupils, hand clutched around that pen, the end of it leaving an indent in her sweats. 
Pickle plops down onto your feet as you cry. You take her into your arms and hold her as close as possible, scurrying into your room. You fall back against the door and it slams, sliding down the wood as Kit-Kat nuzzles your chin. She’s the sweetest fucking thing in the world. How could such an angel be left in the snow to die? 
Time moves in a blur as you weep. Your mom would’ve held you if she were here. 
What you would give for some parental guidance. You almost called your father. 
Almost. 
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Click, click, click, click, click—
One, two, three, four. Breathe in, Breathe out. Five, six—
Thank God for your fucking custom pen. The noise is enough to distract her from breaking down in your tiny living room. She should’ve snagged Pickle before you did; She needs a fucking hug. 
Ellie hates being yelled at. More than anything. More than you. God, she fucking despises you. 
You look and sound nothing like her mother, but you’re oddly alike. She pondered whether or not that was the reason she was drawn to you; She always finds herself trapped in spaces with fucking deflectors. 
She hasn’t even begun editing the photos from earlier. At this point, she doesn’t even want to use them. It’s a shame your eyes are so expressive; She would’ve burned the pictures she took of you the second you left with that bitch if she wasn’t so crunched for time. She needs to submit them so she can get the fuck out of here. 
You’d be an excellent actress; You have emotions down pact on camera. The dark part of her brain convinced her that you were thinking of her with that doting, yearnful look in your eye. 
The photography company keeps sending her emails about completing her work profile and her fucking portfolio submission. That’s the only form of motivation she has left, and even then, she hasn’t revisited those photos. She doesn’t have much time to make them perfect. 
Ellie swallows the lump in her throat over and over, thumb pressing down, down, down. She can’t stop clicking your fucking pen. Just don’t cry. 
Your sobs almost get her there, almost push her over the edge, but she shuts her eyes and counts each click, matching them with every heave she releases. You, somehow, sound just like her fucking mom. 
And Ellie, despite the backwards relationship between the two of you, still fucking kissed you. She should’ve died right there in front of you. What a fucking joke. 
But she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to. She’s never experienced affection like that; It was passionate and made her itch with a desire she hasn’t felt in a long time. All she wants is for someone to love her, hold her like you did, touch her like you did. She’s never felt that euphoric in her life, never witnessed so many bright colors at once. 
Whoever told her being alone was easy was a fucking liar. No one should wake up and want to die every day, so why does she? Everyone thinks she prefers silence, but she doesn’t. Ellie craves contact in all forms. In any form. Desperately. 
Why did it have to be you? Why the fuck did it have to be you. 
Her brain is telling her she can’t wait to move out, so why is her heart amidst decay whenever she thinks about it? She’s going to suffocate in here, so she rises, pen still in hand, and snags her puffer and beanie from the couch. Her feet shove into her boots and she’s out, the front door slamming shut. She didn’t even bother to lock it. 
Ellie takes the stairs and leaves the building on autopilot, no destination in mind. Just stomping through the splintering cold like a fucking yeti. Every breath oxidizes in a cloud before her as she recalls where she fumbled with you. 
Dina. 
Ellie’s cold hands frost her face as she wipes it, making sharp turns and stumbling on ice. She wants to go home; She misses her dad. 
Dina seems to be the only thing you two have in common. You both might hate her more than each other. The horror she felt when her ex-roommate taped that eviction notice on her door is incomparable. Ellie was a struggling entrepreneur and practically fucking homeless overnight. All because Dina’s new fucking side piece. 
Ellie and Dina, friends. Wait until she tells you about how she almost beat her and her girlfriend’s ass. If you’re even willing to listen at this point. 
Ellie continues to walk, hands tucked under her armpits. At least she’s not simmering anymore in her rage anymore. She blocks down the way when she realizes she forgot her fucking phone. This would’ve been a perfect time to cry to her old man. 
You’re not out of Ellie’s system at all. You’ve, unfortunately, claimed residency inside of her. 
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You’re scribbling with spilled wine on your shirt, outside noise muffled by the plugs in your ears. You don't recall leaving your room, grabbing a bottle and downing its contents, but the remnants of broken glass acts as a decent reminder. 
Your hand is cramping from its grip on a new pen, but you can’t stop gliding the tip across the sixth sheet of printer paper. You hate what you’re drawing; The details are perfect, inked scratches practically muscle memory, and you despise it. It’s always her.
You’re going to be alone for a very long time. You’re too destructive for companionship, you’ve learned. How ironic: the one aspect of life you crave is becoming your demise, and your downfall is going to be tortuous. Recovery is never long lasting for you. 
So, you sketch. And scratch. And erase, start again, hoping, praying, for an outcome that doesn’t feel so lost. You’re destroyed and desperate to find comfort. Was your father right when he called you sick at age twelve? Maybe something is truly wrong with you. Maybe one of the reasons why you constantly push and mask and hide. 
Every insecurity you’ve garnered in high school is flourishing in adulthood, thick as vines and as strong as tree bark. Deflection is an art that you’ve mastered out of preservation; Too bad it’s trapped you in isolation. 
The green in Ellie’s eyes holds stories. Somehow, this month feels like centuries. Centuries of studying the mass area of blossoming, healthy land beneath her pupils. Her eyes are sacred, almost too sacred to manipulate, but you draw them anyway. 
You want to touch her again. You want her to touch you. Just one last time. You’re already a fucking failure; One last mistake wouldn’t hurt. 
A teardrop musses the paper, so you scrap it like the others and start again. Ellie’s eyes are too pretty to be smudged. 
You can’t stay here anymore. You hope Amaya understands. You hope Ellie understands. 
You’d give anything to be able to call your mother. 
You hear the front door open and close for the hundredth time tonight, followed by swift clicks of a pen. Guilt floods your system. You peer at a sleeping Pickle on your mattress before standing, opening your door to see Ellie entering hers. Your intoxicated brain notes the sex lighting in her room; Red LED. You talk before thinking. 
“I didn’t mean to yell at you.” She jumps and turns at your cracked voice, eyes red. She smoked; you can smell it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to— “
“I’m submitting my portfolio in the morning. I’ll be out by Christmas.” She says, monotone. Lifeless. 
A dry huff escapes your closed throat. Your heart is breaking. Just a little, “I guess, uh… I can’t see it anymore, huh?” She doesn’t answer. 
“Do you regret taking those pictures?” She mumbles.
You don't hesitate, “Not at all.”
She nods. The silence that follows is thick, weighing at both of your shoulders, holding you in place. Ellie’s breathing is finally steady, and it’s calming. 
“Go to bed.” She whispers before entering her room, gently shutting it behind her. Some tears fall before you follow her lead. 
Pickle is sitting on the edge of your bed, just watching you. You smile sadly and whisper, “At least you love me, right?” 
A gentle blink from her. You sob; Another pair of green eyes to bring you comfort. 
“I love you, too.” 
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astroph1les · 8 months
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falling behind [h.c]
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summary: feeling like you’re never going to experience the normal dating experience, you turn to your friend, hazel, to teach you how to kiss. friends help each other out like that, right?
pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader
contains: mature language and content, hickies (r!recieving), heavy making out, causal dominance from hazel, sort of player!hazel, cocky!hazel, josie & isabel being all over each other, hinting that hazel and birttany are bffs, inexperienced! reader, slight insecure! reader, reader is mentioned to have multiple sisters, hazel being so sweet and reassuring to reader.
word count: 2.6K
a/n: based on this request, by @toritea (i hope you enjoy it! xx) i actually had too much fun writing this. need me a hazel :/ also how am i at over 200 followers already?? you guys are insane. but i love you all for it. enjoy! <3
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You were really happy for Josie and Isabel. You really were. You knew Josie had had a massive crush on Isabel for years now and they finally got together. But, it was moments like this where they were making out, borderline about to fuck against your and Josie’s shared dorm room door, that made you want to rip your head right out of your head.
“Okay, guys,” you speak up, trying to reach for the handle that was underneath their hips.
There was a moan at some point and you decided that you were going to Brittany and Hazel’s dorm room since clearly yours and Josie’s was going to be occupied. You backed away and marched down to the almost identical door except Hazel and Brittany’s names were scribbled on the dry-erase board.
You knocked on the door with a sigh, the image of Josie and Isabel still fresh in your mind. The door opened to reveal Hazel with squinted eyes. She had on a gray hoodie with a pair of what you think of boxers or shorts that look similarly to boxers.
“Hey, did I wake you?” You glance at her attire.
“Uh, no, I just woke up from a nap,” Hazel furrowed her brows, “is everything okay?”
You sigh, shaking your head. “Josie and Isabel—“
“Oh, okay, yeah. Come in,” Hazel moved out of the way to let you into the dorm room.
You glanced around the room, smiling at the obvious difference between Brittany and Hazel’s beds. Brittany had one of those neon wall lights of a sun with baby pink and white sheets. Hazel had basic different shades of gray comforters and sheets along with a few throw pillows.
“I love them but my god, they never stop. I was just trying to stop by to change,” you sigh as you walk over to sit on Hazel’s bed.
Hazel smacked her lips together with a shrug, adjusting her hoodie on her head.
“Well, I mean, that’s what it's like to have a girlfriend. It’s the ‘honeymoon’ phase.” Hazel explained before adding, “kissing and fucking is fun, though.”
Your cheeks burn at her words. Being the only person you know to not have any sexual experience—let alone kiss—made you feel like you were falling behind. Sure, it was only freshman year of college, but it didn’t help the longing of wanting to get this sort of shit over with.
Hazel was the one that you envied the most. Or at least, the girls she was hooking up with. After high school, Hazel became a bit of a heartthrob. Brittany had told you about how she had passed by their room sometimes and would hear almost-porn-like moaning and panting. You would be lying too if you said that you’ve never heard these noises too come from their room.
In simple words, Hazel fucks and fucks good.
“Still, I don’t need to see it happen, Haze,” you emphasized.
“Maybe you need to go and get some then,” Hazel remarks with a cheeky grin, walking over to sit across from you on Brittanys bed.
“Um, no. I can’t do that,” you shake your head and hope that she doesn’t press or ask more questions.
Hazel furrows her brows as she watches the way your body language shifts as soon as the subject of sex comes up.
“Why not? You’re gorgeous. I’m sure someone wants to fuck you.” Hazel states as if you should’ve been aware of this.
It was definitely a bit of a confidence booster that Hazel found you attractive.
“Thanks, Haze but it’s not like people are lining up to be with me unlike some people,” your eyes stare into hers, raising your brows. “I wouldn’t even know what to do anyways.”
Hazel tilts her head and purses her lips together, unclear to what you meant. She meant it when she said you were gorgeous. Even now in your day to day outfits of tees and baby tanks with jean shorts. She’s always thought this way about you but had to push it deep down to keep your friendship intact.
“Wait, have you not…?” Hazel trailed off to see what the limit was of experience that you may or may not have had.
“I’m a virgin and have never even kissed anyone before except for, like, once in 4th grade over a dare,” you spat out, feeling the ever most embarrassed.
The question made you irritated. Why? You couldn’t tell the exact reason but it was definitely a combination of stress and lack of sexual activity.
“Hey, hey,” Hazel stood up and off Brittany's bed to sit next to you on her bed. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you know?”
“No, I know that. It’s just annoying sometimes to not have someone in that romantic way.” You tell her with a forced grin.
Hazel nods in agreement. Silence takes over you two until you get an idea. It was risky and could possibly change everything about your relationship with Hazel if she says yes.
“Haze? Can you,” you sigh and look at her slowly, “can you teach me how to kiss?”
You wince as you prepare for the immediate rejection from Hazel.
“You want me to teach you?” Hazel adjusts her position on her bed so that she has one leg curled on the mattress and the other hanging off.
“Well, yeah, if that’s okay. I know you’ve been with a lot more girls than I have so I assume you know what you’re doing,” you state simply, blushing at the memories of the muffled moaning you’ve heard through the door.
Hazel chuckled at your words, removing her hood from her bed head. You watch her carefully, all of a sudden aware of every move you both made. You took notice of her chains that rested at the bottom of her throat probably from being tossed in her sleep.
“Are you sure? Like, 100%?”
You nod, eyes flickering to her lips. Hazel had done the same and scooted back from you as she was 10 seconds away from kissing you feverishly, but she had to hold back. You had never kissed before, she reminded herself.
“Okay, well, the first thing is comfortability. Are you comfortable sitting like this?” Hazel motioned around you two.
You think about it for a moment before questioning: “Is there a better way to sit when kissing?”
“Some girls like to sit on my lap, some like me to be sort of hovering over them. Even like, laying down and we’re making out is always comfortable too,” Hazel explains, all of a sudden feeling very nervous talking about all of the things she’s done with these girls that weren’t you.
You contemplate for a moment, mentally trying to ignore how Hazel had said ‘some girls.’ It just reminded you that this can only be a ‘friends helping friends’ situation. Laying down might be comfortable but to you, that sounded like a more experienced position. The idea of Hazel hovering over you would cause you to go actually insane.
“Can I be on your lap? I-If that’s okay?” You ask, glancing down to look at Hazel’s lap.
“Yeah, yeah, just— yeah,” she began to adjust herself so that her upper back was up against the headboard with her legs spread out. “C’mere, honey.”
You’re a horny idiot, you scold yourself internally as you inch over to Hazel, your thighs straddling her upper thighs. Her hands rest respectfully on your lower thighs, just above your knees.
This position felt so intimate now that you were here. You could see every speck of blue in her eyes and the slight bags from lack of sleep. You could just stare at Hazel like this and be content.
“You okay?” Her voice is gentle.
“Yeah, just a little nervous,” you admit truthfully.
“I get it, it's okay. Nothing’s wrong with being a little nervous,” she reassures you and the way she was rubbing her thumbs across the bare skin makes your head fuzzy. “Just take a deep breath in and out a few times.”
You do as she asks of you, your previous rapid heartbeat coming to a decrease in speed. Hazel seems to take notice of your chest slowing down.
“There you go. Good. That’s good, honey.”
Hazel praised you, a rush flooding to your brain. You gave her a shy smile as you tried to focus on what the whole point of this was. Kissing.
That’s it. It’s just kissing.
“So, now what?” You hum, fiddling with the end of Hazel’s gray hoodie.
“Let’s do one so I can see how you kiss.” Hazel rose a hand to cup your cheek, watching your breath hitch ever so slightly.
“Okay.”
“Don’t worry about kissing ‘bad’, okay? Go with the flow,” she reassures you once again.
You nod, muttering one final ‘okay’. Hazel leans her face towards yours, slightly brushing her lips against yours. From this soft touch alone, you could tell that you were going to fuck this up. Hazel closed the gap by tugging you by your cheek, locking your lips together.
You attempt to follow her slow rhythm as your hands grip onto the cotton of Hazel’s hoodie. This is going well, you think until Hazel pulls away. You instinctively try to chase her lips, but she chuckles softly at your attempt. Her hot breath brushes past your own slightly parted mouth.
“Getting eager, huh?” She teases, brushing her nose against yours.
“Shut up.” Your cheeks flush at her words.
That same flush spread to your chest and the depths of your stomach. All you wanted to do was jump her bones. Now, you understood why she had girls moaning so loud that there would be complaints from the neighboring peers.
“You did good, though. You really don’t have anything to worry about.” Hazel patted the side of your thigh like it was nothing.
“Really?” You furrow your brows, confused as to how you who had no experience could actually kiss well.
“Mhmm. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, honey. You’re a natural,” she glanced down at your lips with a smile.
“What about, like, making out? Like with tongue?” You were really pushing your luck now. There’s no way she was going to agree to doing more than just basic French kissing.
“Oh, yeah, that’s a little more complicated. There is such a thing as too much tongue. That’s how people get mono. It also just feels fucking gross.” Hazel explains with a grimace.
You copy her disgusted face as one of your sisters had gotten mono before and she couldn’t properly swallow anything for about a week. You remember her constant complaining, saying that she wouldn’t kiss anyone for the next year.
The following month she had gotten a boyfriend so clearly, she was a shit-faced liar.
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard,” you reply back with an awkward chuckle.
“That’s a worse-case scenario, though. It’s supposed to feel good like everything else that’s as intimate as this,” Hazel is quick to reassure you, her hands squeezing and rubbing at your thighs.
“Right. Got it. So, how is ‘good making out’ supposed to feel?” You held up your fingers to copy the quote motion. “I’ve heard you’re mind blowing at it so…”
“You really are boosting my ego here, honey,” Hazel shook her head slightly as if she was being bashful about her experience. Her cocky ass smile said otherwise.
“Like it wasn’t already up there,” you quipped back with a pointed look but your lips were curling into a giddy smile.
“Y’know we can’t make out when we talk, right?”
Hazel’s painfully attractive smirk forms on her lips.
Her hands grasp onto your waist, her thumbs digging into your lower ribs. The cold feeling of her silver rings caused you to gasp as her lips were against yours once again.
You hum against her lips, your hands cupping both sides of her face. From what you’ve seen in movies and shows, usually there’d be a hand through someone’s hair. You test it out and run one hand up the back of Hazel’s head, her soft hairs brushing in between your fingers.
Hazel’s tongue swipes past your bottom lip and you try to welcome it into your mouth. It feels… weird at first but when Hazel tugs you in closer with her tight grip, it heightens the pleasure for you. You suck on her tongue for just a moment before letting her take the reins once again.
You feel her pull away and you think she’s going to say that you did something wrong. No, her lips begin to trail down to your jaw. She made sure to leave a hot kiss on your cheek and jaw before latching yourself onto your neck.
You pant softly, a soft whine leaving your lips. Hazel’s tongue peeked out to lick across a sensitive spot on your neck that you didn’t even know about. How the fuck did she figure that out? She rolled the skin in between her lips and sucked softly.
“Haze,” you breathe out as you tilt your neck back.
This pulled Hazel out of her hungry-lust driven state. She didn’t ask if she could do that. You didn’t ask for a hickey. Fuck.
Hazel paused her movements, detaching herself from your neck. The skin glistened slightly with spit, highlighting the deepening blush color that had raised to your skin.
“Oh, fuck. Shit, I’m sorry,” Hazel rushed out as she examined the forming hickey.
“What? What is it?” You furrow your brows in a panic as well.
“This is gonna be a dark hickey later. Fuck, honey,” her thumb rubbed over the raw skin.
You stay silent. You didn’t want to admit that being covered in her hickies was something that you’ve wanted for a while now. Just friends, you reminded yourself. Just friends.
“It’s okay. I liked how it felt.” You suck in a deep breath, trying to calm your rapid heart rate.
Hazel’s alluring blue eyes flicker from the spot on your neck to your flushed face. It took everything in her to hold back the urge to kiss over it as an apology for what she did.
“Still, it’s not what you had asked to do. I should’ve,” Hazel paused to remove her hands from your waist. You already missed the warmth dearly. “I should’ve asked first.”
“Haze, it’s really okay. I felt…” Horny. Just horny. Desperate. Horny for a third time.
“Good?” She answered for you as you still hadn’t said anything.
You hadn’t realized that you had paused in real life instead of just in your head.
“Yeah, yeah, good. I promise,” you tell her with a soft smile.
“Well, it sounded like it was good,” Hazel quipped with a cocky smirk on her face before smacking her clothed shoulder.
“God, I’m regretting this already,” you half-lie.
You regret asking Hazel to be the one to teach you but you don’t regret her kissing you and giving you a hickey.
Oh, god.
How were you going to explain the dark mark on your neck to everyone? You never curled your hair so it’s not like a burn could be an excuse.
You were about to ask Hazel how you were going to cover it up when the door opened. Brittany stood at the door sporting a cropped black tank with a gemmed red heart and a pair of low-rise blue jeans. Her brows raised at the sight of you and Hazel before she pursed her lips to hide her obvious smile that was creeping onto her lips.
“I’ll just come back later,” Brittany gave Hazel a look that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
Okay so everyone but Brittany.
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taglist: @imjustapearl @beabeebrie @curiousshifter101 @seethesin @matchamilkislover <33
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they weren’t the first part 2| finnick odair
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part 2 of they weren’t the first
summary| finnick lost you in the 65th hunger games, but district 13 is full of many surprises
warnings| angst (ig), mentions of past hunger games, mentions of death, no smut but there is a makeup session, talks of Finnick’s past
A/N| glad yall liked the first one cause this was so much fun to write
__
you don’t know how you get here really. one moment a prisoner of the capital, the next a new member of secret district 13. you don’t really remember how you escaped, you don’t know how you ended up at district 13.
lately it’s been chaos. the bombing of district 12, the influx of survivors, the quarter quell, having to see Finnick’s face after all these years, for the first time in years. 
you wonder if Finnick ever thinks about you, about your games, about if you’re still live. did he feel you move before the peacekeepers dragged you both away from one another? because you remembered him, you’ll always remember him. he saved your life in your games, and you’ll never be able to repay him for it. 
as the quell dragged on, you couldn’t watch. you couldn’t watch cause at any moment your mentor Beetee could be killed, Finnick could be killed. you’d rather live in blissful ignorance for at least a little longer.
it was hot in that basement that day, you’re gray jumpsuit was half unbuttoned, tied around your waist, your top being able to breathe better through your undershirt. you’re hair, pulled back uptop of your head to keep the frizz out of your face. the last time you’re hair was this long it had been cut by finnick to keep you from overheating in the arena after your hair tie broke... you haven’t cut it since then.
you were working on some weapon suspended in the air rewiring part of it. once from district 3, always a smarty.. at least that’s what Coin thinks. Beetee would be proud, you think. When you refused to train during your games, Beetee taught you most thinks he knew because it made you happy. That’s all Beetee wanted to do before sending you into that arena, make you happy. 
It feels like a lifetime ago, being reaped, being thrown into that arena knowing you weren’t going to make it out, meeting finnick, being captured by the capital, escaping, being rescued by district 13. you don’t remember the majority of it all you remember is finnick, finnick, finnick. 
some all you dramatic. it was 10 years ago now, but while everything else feel like a lifetime ago, finnick feels like just yesterday. you’ll never forgot that moment you realized he wasn’t going to kill you when he caught you in that net. you were only 13, never even thought about the idea of love but something about looking at finnick made you fall. Never did you see someone and think of them as attractive, everyone to you was just another passing face, but not finnick. finnick, still to this day, was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. you understand why he was a capital favorite, he was sweet and put everyone he loved before himself... that’s why you jumped like you did. you knew finnick wouldn’t kill you and you weren’t going to kill him. jumping was your only option, and hey, you guess it worked out because you’re still here, at least you think finnick would like that. 
“Y/N!” The voice of Boggs startles you, if it wasn’t for the cord holding you up you would’ve fallen. “Apologizes Y/N!” Gale chuckles as he apologizes besides Boggs for them scaring you. You couldn’t put your finger on it but Gale irked you, perhaps it was because he left so many behind in district 12 to die. you think you have a problem with all men near your age, because no one will live up to finnick. finnick would’ve picked up and carried as many children as he could if they didn’t automatically follow him, Gale didn’t. 
“What do you want? I’m busy here!” You call down, returning your gaze to your work, keeping your ears open to listen to whatever Boggs and Gale have to say... well mainly Boggs. “Come down Y/N, this is important.” You look down at Boggs again and the look on his face makes your heart drop. Finnick. you motion for the people on the ground to lower you, shaking you’re barely able to undo your harness. 
“Well speak!” You snap at the pair as you stand in front of them, neither say a word. “Katniss broke the arena.” “What?” “Katniss broke the arena, we sent in a recuse party, they just arrived, they’re in the hospital wing.” run. your brain says but you’re feet won’t move. If you run, and he’s not there, you don’t know what you’ll do. “Who- who did you recuse?” Gale and Boggs look at each other, and your heart sinks even more. “Katniss and Beetee but they’re unconscious.” you gasp at Beetee’s name. “and-” you snap your head to Gale as he begins to speak again, but Boggs elbows him. “and who? Boggs?!” “Finnick is conscious but he doesn’t know-” Without another word your feet finally listen to your brain. and you run.
“Finnick! Finnick!” “Y/N!” In the distance your name is called and the wind is knocked out of your body at his voice. he’s alive. he’s here. “Finnick!” you scream louder, booking it in the direction of his voice. as his calls get louder, you’re feet pick up speed until you freeze in place, almost falling over yourself and the momentum. Finnick Odair in the flesh. you both looked like idiots, just standing in the hallway of the hospital wing. Finnick slid out of a room, Haymitch quick behind him, but at the sight of you he retreated back into the room. 
it felt like you were 13 all over again, seeing finnick for the first time. he was taller, more broad, more built.. obviously he’s a 24 year old man and not a 14 year old boy anymore. however, his blue eyes and blonde hair is exactly the same as when you were just kids trying to keep each other alive... or him keep you alive more specifically, finnick never needed your help. 
“you’re alive!” you don’t know when you collided or who made the first move but you were wrapped in finnick’s arms. it felt strange, someone hugging you. after finnick, you never let other people touch you, let alone hug you. “you’re safe?” you were both frantic. pulling back, looking at each other, grabbing each others faces and bodies just making sure you weren’t going crazy. he was here. “I’m safe? you’re safe.” finnick hands couldn’t stop moving around your face and hair, he couldn’t actually believe it was you. you were here. alive. you looked so much different, but the same. 
your lips collided before you could even process him moving closer to you. last time his lips were on your he was bringing you back to life, you guess you could say the same for this time. finnick was bringing you back to life. a fire lit in you the moment his lips touched yours. the thought of it being your first kiss didn’t even run through your head until he pulled back, both of you smiling like idiots. 
“I guess I always knew you were going to be my first kiss.” you joke, tears of joy running down your face as you cling to him. Finnick laughs at you, his head falling into your hair, kissing your head. Tears falling from his eyes making your hair wet. He pulled back once again, cupping your face, pushing pieces of your hair back behind your ears. “I can’t remember the last time I saw your hair long.” you laugh at the ridiously statement. “you’re here.” you breath pulling him back into the tightest hug. He hugged back, lifting you slightly off the ground before returning you. “and I’m not going anywhere ever again.” 
___
“How is this even possible?” Finnick still spoke in disbelief as you laid between his legs in bed that night. his arms wrapped tightly around you, your hands tangled in your lap, finnick playing with your fingers. his chin rested on your shoulder, you never wanted to leave his position. 
“I don’t know, I honestly don’t remember.” you laugh at yourself, truly you have no idea how you got from point a to point b to point c. at your response, finnick turns you over to sit in his lap, face to face. 
“What happened Y/N.” finnick’s serenity startled you, and the tears forming in your eyes startled finnick. “I can’t remember.” he wiped the tears the fell into your cheeks, and you turn away quickly wiping them. “I remember hitting the water, and I remember being somewhat conscious when they got us from the arena. I remember this like- this white room and then boom. nothing.” 
“I’m glad you don’t remember anything.” “What?” “The capital is worse then if hell was on earth, trust me I know. I wouldn’t want you to remember anything that did to you or told you.” “What do you mean, you know?” Finnick’s eyes fall, he shouldn’t have said that. “Finnick? Finnick!” finally he looks up at you again, he looked broken and that broke you a little on the inside. “what did they do to you?” “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.” Finnick deterred the conversation and you let him. He didn’t want to talk about it and part of you didn’t want to hear it. as you nod, pieces of your hair falls from your ponytail and onto your neck. you hated the feeling, you always have. before he could process it, you were up, across the room to your desk grabbing scissors. “cut my hair off.” “What?” “cut my hair off finnick. I never cut my hair since you did it in the arena, that was the last time I was with you. this-” you grabbed your hair, “isn’t me. so please, cut it off.” 
__
“I always thought you looked better with short hair Y/N.” you chuckle besides table where Beetee was. ever since he has woken up you and therefore finnick has been by his side. Beetee was the first and only father figure you’ve ever had, working besides him on new technology in district 13 was a full circle moment. “Thank you Beetee.” “I call it the Haymitch look.” Finnick and Beetee laughed as you threw a piece of food across the table at finnick. 
within the next second the sounds of their laughter was quickly covered by the sirens of an air raid. the noise send you into fight or flight mode and you black out of reality. “Y/N! Y/N!” you black back in to Finnick frantically shaking you, and Beetee nowhere in sight. “you’re okay, we have to go!” he grabs your hand and start running to the shelter as you make it through the door, finnick walks behind you, hands covering your ears. 
tucked up against finnick, you jump every time a bomb hits. finnick lays behind you, hands still cupped over your ears as some sort of protection from the noise. boom. “7″ boom. “8″ boom. “9″ as the bombs exploded, you counted. you didn’t realise you were safe, in your mind, you were back in the arena. 9 people dead, 10 people dead, you might be next. finnick caught on quickly to this as you shook more and more with each passing number. you open your eyes once and look to the ceiling, trying to bring yourself back down only to see cracks in the ceiling, quickly with a yelp you flip over, burying yourself in finnick’s chest. 
“you’re okay Y/N, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” he whispered into your hair, arms wrapped as tightly as possible around you. “I’ve drown in water before I don’t wanna be buried in cement next.”
__
you were the love of Finnick’s life, he’s done this so many time before, so why can suddenly not stomach that fact that’s he’s doing it. 
“finnick.” your voice and hand pulling him closer by his belt loops pulls him back to reality. somehow a kiss turned into this, you below him in nothing but your his shirt and underwear and him with no shirt on. “mmh?” is all he replied, leaning down to kiss you again, but you turn away from him. he looks at you in confusion. “what’s going on inside your head finnick.” has he really been so far in his head he hasn’t noticed? “nothing, I’m okay I promise.” he kissed you again, this time lowering his hips to meet yours and you let a moan leave your lips, to your surprise. finnick knows you’ve ever done this, hell you never kissed someone until he came along. “finnick.” you voice again makes him pull back, you look nervous. “I’ve never done this before.” finnick chuckles lightly, “I know, it’s okay.” “Have you?” “with no one important.” you at up at his confession, pulling your knees to your chest. “what do you mean?” finnick sighed to himself, he had to tell you at some point. “come here.” he reached out, allowing you to climb into his lap, face to face. “after our games, Snow wanted to keep me in the capital. the people wanted me to themselves, so when I was 16 Snow started selling me to people in the capital for short periods of time. he said if I didn’t he would kill my family, and probably you.” without a word, you wrap your arms around him, hugging him. “Thank you for trusting me Finn, I love you.” at your words he relaxes into the hug, burying his face in your neck. 
“I love you so much Y/N, marry me.” 
___
5 years later
“Y/N are you okay?” finnick’s voice pulls to back to reality, just like it always does. you turn to see him coming to join you on the balcony of your shared house. it was summer and the other victors and friends were all in district 3 for a summer get together, a yearly thing. every year a new person hosts in a new district and this year it was your and finnick’s turn. 
5 years ago, after the death of Coin and President Snow, we were free to live for the first time in our lives. everyone returned to their home districts to help rebuilt it from the ground up, after finnick had district 4 in order he moved to 3 to be with you. 
your first child, a son, was born shortly after the war ended. not ideal, but it helped ground you both back into a reality without the games. his name, finnick jr, could not be more wrong as he looked identical to you and not finnick. ironically, 2 years later when your twins were born and named joule and techen,  district 3 inspired names, she looked exactly like finnick and techen was the perfect little mix. crazy how the world works. 
“Yeah, I just needed a minute.” you turn back to the view of the city, looking down into your backyard you spot Peeta running around with Finn, Joule, Techen and his and Katniss’s two kids, Ember and Mason. they were catching fireflies. you envied your kids, they got the childhood you and finnick never had.
“It’s hard to believe it’s almost been 5 years.” finnick spoke, placing his hands on either side of you on the railing, caging you in. “5 years since we escape hell.” “We did it together, and look, we bought those beautiful kids into a better world.” 
“I love you Finnick Odair.” “I love you too, Y/N Odair.” 
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rodolfoparras · 2 months
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Capture The Moment
Pairing: Izaack Gauss x Male Reader
Cw: 18+, cheating, blowjobs, sub!Izaack, dom!male reader
Wc: 2k+
A/N: I’m fully aware that Izaack doesn’t have a wife but for the sake of the plot, he now does
Synopsis: In which Izaack’s wife asks you to keep an eye on her husband since he keeps coming home late, and you’re more than happy to help
Thinking about Izaack Gauss who always seems to come home a bit late and every time he does he looks very much disheveled hair mussed and three piece practically undone and of course his wife is bound to get suspicious so she kindly asks you to keep an eye on her husband, see if you notice anything suspicious and then report it to her and who are you to deny her?
The sound of heels clicking turns your attention to the glass window in front of you and there he stands, Izaack Gauss, dressed in the simple but chic three piece he left in this morning looking a bit tired from the day but besides that nothing about his appearance raises any alarms in your head.
“Sir,” he greets with a tired smile on his face as he searches his pockets for what you assume can only be documents. “Seems that I must’ve forgotten my documents today” he continues, but despite his words there’s not a trace of remorse in his tone “Is there any other way we can resolve this?”
A laugh escapes your lips, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise silent lobby before you go to undo the lock to the cubicle you call office. “Come on in,”
The sheepish look on his face turns into something else, smile steadily growing til his sharp molars are on full display, tired eyes becoming more alert and swirling with something akin desire as he step inside your small office space.
Well inside you see that he’s undone the first couple of buttons of his dress shirt, thick dark hairs prominently standing out alongside the pristine white fabric. He’s even gone out his way to roll the sleeves up to his elbows, showing more skin than usual. And as your eyes continue to trail lower down his body, you see the sharp silhouette of his waist, tucked into fitted gray slacks that leave almost nothing to the imagination.
Izaack was one attractive man. You had thought so ever since the very first time you saw him standing in front of the little glass window, with a sheepish smile on his face as he dug around in his pockets for documents.
And when he spoke: his voice was deep and smooth, a couple octaves lower than what you expected it to be and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would take for it to go higher.
That was of course until you saw the wedding band on his hand and his wife standing next to him.
In that very moment you had realized Izaack was a taken man. Izaack, however couldn’t care less about that.
And as if he didn’t just stand tall in front of you, said man falls to the ground. The sound of his leather shoes dragging across the floor sounds all too loud in the otherwise silent office room but you revel in the sound, leaning back into your seat as you watch the big bulk of a man crawl up towards you.
He sits like a dog at your feet, cheek nuzzling up against your clothed dick, spit soiling your slacks while bleary eyes gaze up at you.
You almost want to drag this out a bit, want to watch him pathetically suckle at your slacks, want to watch those blue eyes turn glassy from tears, face burning red as he begs and pleads for you to let him suck your dick.
Unfortunately the limited amount of time won’t allow you to do that - an unknowing tenant may drop in any second now so with a nod of your head, you watch as his ring clad hand eagerly undoes the zipper of your pants, and you swiftly lift your hips, allowing him to pull down your pants along with your briefs.
You watch his dark eyes grow wide as your cock spills out, pink tongue peaking out and wetting his lips in anticipation
“This is what you wanted hm?” you ask, one hand sinking into his dark mane of curls while the other hand grabs ahold of your now fully hard cock, nuzzling it up against his face much like he’d done earlier.
Izaack eagerly nods his head, nuzzles his face closer and you watch with intrigue as pre smears all over his cheek and chin.
“What would your wife think if she saw you like this, hm? You say and yank at his hair watching for a brief moment as he snaps out of his trance, eyes glancing down at his wedding band before falling back onto you again.
“Jesus Christ,” you, laugh in disbelief “you wouldn’t even care would you” You say as you nudge your cockhead against his lips, and you quickly get your answer as you watch the way he eagerly wraps them around the tip.
Izaack had always been skilled with his mouth , you had known so since the very first time you saw him standing in front of a camera. He was quick with his tongue when interviewing someone, flashing his sharp molars when someone tried to intimidate him and sometimes even swallowing down his pride to get the information he needs and wants.
And it’s no different when he’s down on his knees, sharp tongue dragging across your tip, trailing kisses along the length of your dick before his tongue is once again lapping at your cockhead like he can’t bear to lose the taste of you.
“Mmm fuck- just ah- just like that,” you hiss while running a shaky hand through his hair as if it’s the only thing keeping you from losing your sanity.
Although there’s no smile on his face , you can see the amusement in his eyes as he gauges your reactions to his touch; irises glittering as he suckles on your cockhead, sharp molars purposely grazing the sensitive flesh.
“Holy fu-“ you yelp out and for a second you feel like the air has been punched out of your lungs, as you harshly buck up into his mouth.
The other man doesn’t seem to mind your rough touch matter of fact he seems rather pleased, contented hums escaping his lips, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure straight to your dick. “Izaack fuck!”
Izaack continues like that for a moment, switching between teasing licks and suckling on your tip til your cock is practically throbbing with need.
“‘Enough teasing,” you groan out, this time yanking at his hair in warning and that’s all it takes for him to comply to your request, wet hot mouth sinking down onto your dick, taking you inch by inch til his is nose brushing over the coarse hair at the base of you. “Mph! God!”
It doesn’t take much before he sets a steady pace, and you lose yourself in the pretty sight he makes with his spit slicked lips stretched taut around your cock, fat tears trickling down his flushed cheeks whenever you graze too far back in his throat all while squirming around in place trying to subtly relieve his own hard and weeping dick.
The sound of the phone ringing pulls you out of your daze, and you quickly remember where you are and what you’re supposed to be doing as you blindly grab ahold of the phone and put it to your ear. “Hello?”
“Hello! This is Mrs Gauss. I apologize for calling this late but I was wondering if you have seen my husband? He was supposed to be home an hour ago but he has yet to show up,” the sound of his wife’s voice trickles through the phone.
“Mrs Gauss! Hello! Uh-“ you stutter out, momentarily feeling yourself going tense under his touch, like a bucket of ice had been dumped on you. Izaack however seems as unphased as ever as he continues to work his mouth on you.
“I really am so sorry for bothering you but I have a hard time going to bed without my husband, and to be honest I’m worried about him. So have you seen him?”
Oh, you sure had seen the man, down on his knees with your cock in his mouth while batting his long lashes at you.
“Yes Izaack- Mr Gauss!” you correct yourself but it comes out as a yelp as the man in question starts fondling your ballsack.
Suddenly, the phone falls out of your hands, hips jerking up as grunts and groans escape your mouth.
“Just like that. Ah fuck!” You moan out, head lolling back as you buck up into his touch.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” Once again the sound of Mrs Gauss’ voice brings you out of your daze, this time it echoes from where the phone cord hangs from your fingertips.
You somehow muster up enough strength to fish up the phone to you, hand shaky, voice breathy as you finally reply to the rather confused woman.“Yes! I’m sorry Mrs Gauss. There seems to be something wrong with the phone line-“ and just like on queue another moan tries to slip out of you but luckily you manage to catch yourself in time, teeth sinking into your bottom lip biting down so hard til you’re sure you taste blood all while watching your cock obscenely slide in and out of Izaack’s mouth.
“‘Mm should- should definitely get it checked I agree,” you say, echoing her suggestion back to her, before you lose your last bit of focus as Izaack starts sucking more intensely before he suddenly stops and pulls away.
The panic in your face must’ve been obvious because you see the way his lips curl up before his mouth goes slack, body willfully relaxing as he gazes up at you in expectation.
Jesus Christ.
You don’t even think twice before you start fucking into his mouth, losing yourself in the pleasurable feeling of the wet hot walls of his throat squeezing down onto your cock. The fact that Mrs Gauss is on the other line has long escaped your mind.
“…..it seems to have cut off again” Mrs Gauss says and lightly chuckles, sounding ever so oblivious to what’s going on, on the other end ” would you mind repeating what you said?”
This time it’s Izaack prompting you to answer the phone, a firm squeeze to your thigh brings your attention back to the present moment before you manage to utter some sort of response to her “My apologies, Mrs Ah Mrs Gauss. What I was trying to say is that Mr Gauss just entered the lobby,”
“Oh, alright, thank you,” she says and and sighs out of relief, smile ever so prominent when she speaks but you can’t help but think how the relief in her voice is a stark contrast to the intense onslaught of pleasure in your gut as Izaack continues to work himself up and down your cock “Well would you mind sending him up to me? I’ve been….”
But the sound of her voice fades away as you inch closer to the edge, the coil in your stomach tightening until it finally snaps.
“Ah- Ah Fuck!” You cry out, phone dropping out of your hand and landing with a thud on the floor, as hot ropes of cum spill onto Izaack’s tongue.
“Hello?! Hello?!.. It must’ve cut off again, they really should check the phone lines today. ” You hear her say to herself, voice echoing through the line but you’re unable to focus on anything other than the obscene sight that is you continuously sliding in and out of Izaack’s mouth with Izaack milking your orgams for all it’s worth til there’s nothing but pathetic spurts of cum landing on his tongue.
Eventually you grow too sensitive, body wincing under his touch and you use a shaky hand to push him away from you. “Sto-stop,”
The man reluctantly agrees, and pulls away from you, the last bit connecting you to him being a string of spit before it breaks and disappears.
Through blurry eyes you see Izaack, getting up from his knees, swiftly pulling out a handkerchief he must’ve been carrying with him and wiping his lips. He doesn’t waste another second picking up the phone that had fallen to the floor, before nudging it towards. “Hello?! Are you there?!”
One shaky breath is all it takes before you muster up the strength to answer her: voice breathy and strained, eyes barely able to focus on what’s happening in front of you as you utter the words “‘M sorry, Mrs Gauss I had to deal with something urgent but I’m sending him up now,”
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coldfanbou · 2 months
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Banding Together
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Alright, everyone, here is the fic I was talking about. The first lady you see is Hyun-Jung of Rolling Quartz, while the second is Magenta of QWER. I love both bands and wanted to write them, so here we are with them. Also, yes, the title is a pun because they are both in a band. Please enjoy.
Length 3K
Magenta x Mreader X HyunJung
Sitting at an empty bar, you sip your drink while waiting for your friend. The small chime of the bell alerted you to her entrance. “What took you so long?” You ask, turning to face the door. You note someone else standing with her.
“I was bringing a friend,” she chides, giving you a slight wink. Hyun-Jung wore a simple white dress that suited her well, considering her blonde hair, which turned light blue. You look over and recognize the face. 
“And it’s someone I know.” You finish the last of your drink before ordering another, “Boss, serve the ladies whatever they’d like.” You tell the bartender before standing up. “It’s nice to meet you.” 
“It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m Min-hee.” She greets you, bowing slightly. Min-hee wears a white button-up shirt, a low black vest, and a gray skirt.
“I know. You’re Magenta of Qwer. How do you know Hyun-Jung?” 
“We started talking a while ago. I really like her music, and I complimented her online. We started talking a little afterward, and we’ve gone out a few times.” 
“That’s great. It’s nice to know Hyun-Jung had friends.” Hyun-Jung slaps your shoulder before taking a seat next to you. 
“Boss, the most expensive drink you have,” she says, eyeing you. Shaking your head, you sit back down in your seat. Magenta sits next to Hyun-Jung. “Oh, make it two, Boss.” Hyun-Jung giggles as she puts one hand on Magenta’s shoulder. “We’re going to drink all night!” She says, happy as can be. Sighing in response, you down your drink. 
“Have you two ever played together? I mean, Hyun-Jung is a guitarist, and you're a bassist, Magenta.” 
Magenta shakes her head, “We haven’t played together at all. We mostly go to karaoke and sing our hearts out. Plus, I still stream…”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Magenta lets out a slight snort before giggling. “I just mean that you two could still play together for fun.”
Magenta waves you off, “I get it, I get it. You just said that so plainly.” She grabs her drink, wrapping her lips around the straw and taking a sip before continuing. “We just like to relax together, so we go out to sing.”
Hyun-Jung interrupts your conversation, leaning forward to block your line of sight of Magenta. “Am I just a third wheel on your guys' date?” She bangs her fist against the counter. “Don’t just ignore me.” Hyun-Jung’s anger makes you both laugh. 
“Oh, relax. We’re just chatting.” Hyun-Jung huffs and down the last of her drink. “Take your time drinking; you know how you can get.”
“I’ll be fine. You have to watch out for Min-hee. She’s the one that gets wild.” 
Magenta shakes her friend, “I’m not that bad!” She whines. Hyun-Jung laughs, knowing she’s getting to her friend. 
The three of you stay at the bar until late into the night. Both women were drunk after the many drinks they had at your expense. “I know I said today was on me, but couldn’t you two have taken it a little easy?” 
“No, free drinks are free drinks,” Hyun-Jung says, hiccups overtaking her as she stumbles out of the bar. Magenta wasn’t fairing much better, holding onto Hyun-Jung before falling to the ground. Her face was red, and she continued to pull on Hyun-Jung’s white dress from the ground. Hyun-Jung grabbed the end of her dress, pulling back on it. “You’re going to make everything spill out!” She yelled. What she said was true, though; Magenta’s pulling nearly made one of Hyun-Jung’s tits pop out of her dress. 
“I need help!” Magenta whined. Her previously pristine outfit was dirtied from the fall, and the wine she had spilled on herself earlier. As you looked down at the fallen woman, you glanced at her cleavage. Magenta had unbuttoned her shirt just a little in an attempt to dry her shirt. 
You squat down in front of the drunk woman, “Come on, I’ll carry you to the station.” Magenta sniffles before letting go of Hyun-Jung’s dress and climbing you. You grip her thighs tightly as you stand up, feeling her arms tighten their grip around you as she presses herself against you.  
“You live nearby; let’s stay at your house.” Hyun-Jung’s says as she wraps her arms around yours to support herself. 
“Are you sure? Magenta, what do you think?”
“I wouldn’t mind staying with you.” She says softly. 
“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” 
Along the way home, you feel Magenta rubbing against you. Hyun-Jung seemed completely unaware as Magenta planted her lips on your neck. “Thanks for the night out. Is there any way I could pay you back?” She whispered, adding extra emphasis to any. “I’m sure I could find a good way once we get to your home.” 
Magenta kissed your neck again, her soft lips lingering there. You felt her small tongue lick your neck; it sent a shiver down your spine. You stayed silent, not wanting to give her any attention. “Hey, are we there yet?” Hyun-Jung asked as if to remind you she was there, too. 
“Nearly there, Hyun-Jung.” You continue walking, your arms getting tired from carrying the flirty Magenta.
“I’m getting cold,” Hyun-Jung complained. 
“This is why I told you to bring a jacket,” you reply, nearing your apartment. “Just hold on a little longer. We’re nearly there.” Once you entered the main building, you let Magenta down. “You can walk the rest of the way. I’m getting a little tired.” 
Magenta rests against you, her arms wrapping themselves around your neck. You feel her rub her leg against yours as she brings it up. “What if you carried me like this?” She says in a low voice, jumping up and wrapping her legs around your waist. The sudden weight nearly brings you both down, forcing you to react. You place your hands on her ass as you take a step forward, attempting to balance yourself. Magenta takes the opportunity to shift her weight, smacking your face with her breasts. You’re getting aroused; Magenta was a beautiful woman throwing herself at you.
“Min-Hee! What are you doing?” Hyun-Jung says, trying to get her friend off you.
Magenta clings to you fiercely, “What?! I’m just holding on so he can carry me! Don’t be jealous!” Magenta shakes her head as Hyun-Jung tries to get her off you. After some struggles, Hyun-Jung was able to pry Magenta off you. Magenta pouts as she sits on the cold floor, “You just want him for yourself.”
“That’s not true. I don’t even want him.” The words sting a little, but you know it wasn’t meant as an insult. You grab Magenta’s hand and pull her to her feet before continuing to your apartment. 
You each slip your shoes off at the entrance before heading further inside your home. “I’m going to the bathroom,” Hyun-Jung says, leaving you and Magenta alone. You take a seat on your couch and shut your eyes for a moment, tired from carrying the drunk woman. Magenta stays rooted to where she’s standing, her hands behind her back as she spins from side to side. After the door to the bathroom shuts, she looks down, unbuttoning her vest before walking over to you. You only notice when you feel her straddle you; opening your eyes, you meet hers. Magenta presses her lips against yours; her delicate hands cup your cheeks before sliding down your neck and moving toward your hands. At your wrists, she brings your hands to her tiny waist. Magenta breaks the kiss, a small strand of saliva keeping you connected as she places her hands on your chest. 
“I’m going to repay you,” She says with a sly smile. She kisses you again as her hands move down to your pants, undoing your belt and pulling your dick out. Magenta’s hand moves slowly down your shaft, making you groan into her kiss. You snake your hands under her shirt, feeling her smooth skin as your hands move up her sides. Blocked by her black bra, your hands reach around her, unlatching it. “Naughty boy,” Magenta whispers as her grip tightens. Magenta uses her other hand to rub the head of your cock, her thumb moving across the tip, becoming covered in a layer of precum. 
You open up the rest of her shirt as she strokes your cock. You cup the underside of one of her tits, shaking it slightly and watching it jiggle as your other hand rubs her thigh. Magenta’s light moans turn you on. As she kisses you again, you pull her closer, feeling the heat coming from her core. Magenta pulls her shirt off and breaks the kiss. Pressing her tits against her chest, you lean forward, kissing her neck as she places her hands on your shoulders. “I can feel your cock twitching.” Magenta coos. She looks down at you, smiling as she pushes your head away. She reaches down, grabs it, and moves her hand along the shaft slowly, “I know you want to be inside me already, but you have to be patient.” She says, getting off you and kneeling. She spreads your legs apart slowly, sneaking in between them. 
Grabbing your cock again, she moves her hand up and down the shaft, smiling as she feels the warmth from it. Watching it leak precum, Magenta leans in and drags her tongue along the head. “Mmm, nice and salty.” She says before taking another lick; this time, Magenta wraps her lips around the head, her tongue swirling around it. You throw your head back and moan. Magetna’s small tongue teases you, going around the tip of your cock, only to stop midway and go in the other direction. Magenta slowly bobs her head, turning it slightly so your cock rubs the inside of her cheek. She pops you out of her mouth for a brief second, “Do you like it?” She says, continuing to stroke your cock.
“What are you two doing?!” Hyun-Jung yells, returning from the bathroom.
“What do you think?” Magenta says before she drags her tongue along the underside of your shaft. “I’m giving our host a nice treat.” Magenta stuffs her mouth with your cock, bobbing her head and turning her complete focus over to you. Hyun-Jung stands there in complete shock as Magenta continues to pleasure you, her tongue coating your cock in a layer of saliva. Feeling your orgasm coming, Magenta focuses on the head, running her tongue back and forth across the tip, making you squirm. Your hips start to move uncontrollably as you near your orgasm; Magenta’s gentle hand tries to keep you still as her tongue laps at your cock.
“Magneta, I’m cumming,” You groan as you buck your hips. Magenta sucks on the head, feeling your warm cum coat her tongue as she milks you by stroking your shaft. Hyun-Jung watches as Magenta’s throat flexes and relaxes as she drinks your cum. She feels a growing wetness in her panties as she watches the scene unfold. Her right-hand moves down her dress, rubbing her folds as she watches Magenta pull away and show you an empty mouth. 
Magenta glances over at Hyun-Jung; seeing her friend getting active, she draws attention to it. “I guess you want some, too, huh, Hyun-Jung,” She says, slapping her face with your limp cock. Hyun-Jung gulps, unable to say a word. “It’s okay; you don’t have to say anything. Just come over here. I’ll even make room for you.” Magenta scoots to the side and waves Hyun-Jung closer. She remains standing in place momentarily, considering her options before eventually moving toward you. She kneels before your, eyeing your cock. “I have just the thing to get this little guy hard again,” Magenta announces before pulling on Hyun-Jung’s dress, getting her tits out. Only now did you see Hyun-Jung hadn’t been wearing a bra. “There we go.” She says with a proud smile on her face. “Now we just do this,” Magenta presses her tits against your cock and pulls Hyun-Jung to do the same. Magenta presses her tits against Hyun-Jung’s, trapping your cock in the middle as they begin to move. You can feel their nipples rub against your cock. Hyun-Jung watches you carefully, listening to your moans. The women feel your cock come back, growing hard between their tits. 
“It’s back,” Magenta says to herself. Hyun-Jung, I’ll let you go first.” Hyun-Jung is taken aback by Magenta’s words. She hadn’t expected her friend to give her the first chance. The pair stand up, with Magenta getting behind Hyun-Jung. She raised the bottom of Hyun-Jung’s dress, revealing her white panties. “Aww, look at you trying to look pure, unnie.” The teasing makes Hyun-Jung blush, and the redness on her face gets stronger as Magenta moves her panties to the side. “Look at this little pussy. Aren’t you a lucky man?” Magenta says as she pushes Hyun-Jung onto you. Magenta helps you and Hyun-Jung along, aligning you with her cunt and pushing her friend onto your cock. 
“O-oh,” Hyu-Jung lets out a staggered moan as she feels your cock enter her. Magenta’s lips on the back of her neck arouse her further, and as you begin to move Hyun-Jung’s voice reigns free, filling the room as you stuff her with your cock. Magenta toys with her friend, squeezing her tits as Hyun-Jung bounces on your cock. You grip Hyun-Jung’s waist, your hands digging into her soft flesh as you pull her down. You nip at the other side of her neck, giving her more pleasure. With the mass of hands and lips touching her Hyun-Jung begins to lose herself to the pleasure, her warm walls squeeze down on your cock. 
“Unnie, it looks like you’re having a lot of fun. Do you like riding him that much?” 
“Mhmm, I-I love it.” Magenta plants her lips on Hyun-Jung’s while continuing to play with her tits. Her fingers trapping Hyun-Jung’s nipples and pulling them taut, making the older woman moan. 
“I love playing with you, unnie. Your tits are so soft.” Magenta whispers into Hyun-Jung’s ear. “You don’t mind if I get a taste, do you?” 
“What?” Hyun-Jung mumbles before feeling Magenta latch onto her tit. She looks down to see her friend suckling on her tit, feeling Magenta’s tongue swirl around her nipple. You do the same, getting her other nipple. Hyun-Jung holds you both to her chest, keeping you in place and becoming a moaning mess. Her cunt holds you tightly, clamping down around your head as she nears her climax. “Shit, I’m cumming.” You squeeze Hyun-Jung; her soft body is perfect for it. Your thrusts continue to speed up, your cock twitching wildly inside her. You bury your cock inside Hyun-Jung, holding her down as your cum paints her walls white. Hyun-Jung cries out as she feels the hot cum rush into her body; she grinds against you taking every drop. 
Magenta watches on happily, eagerly awaiting her turn. She rubs her clit through her panties, whimpering as she has to wait for Hyun-Jung to get off you. 
You kiss Hyun-Jung as you feel her walls squeeze the tip of your cock for more. She returns it, her tongue lazily tracing your lips as you help her off. Hyun-Jung falls back onto the floor, her legs too weak to hold her up. 
Seeing this, Magenta has a lightbulb moment. She crawls over the tired woman, coming face-to-face with Hyun-Jung. Magenta looks over her shoulder to you, raising her ass and arching her back. She shakes it from side to side, telling you to hurry up. You kneel down, holding her tiny waist with one hand while the other moves her panties to the side. Magenta was ready, her cunt slick with her nectar. You can push in with ease, sliding into the deepest parts. Magenta muffled her moans by kissing Hyun-Jung. The older woman could barely return the kiss and let Magenta explore her mouth. You gave Magenta hard thrusts, impaling her. You snuck your hands around her body, squeezing one of her tits and flicking her clit with the other hand. Magenta pushed her ass against you, loving how your cock was ruining her. She held Hyun-Jung’s hands, holding them by the older woman’s head as she forced her tongue into her mouth.  “You’re so tight, Magenta.” You groan. Magenta’s cunt felt like it was tightening around you with every thrust. As you played with her clit, you could feel her tight abs as your forearm rubbed against them. It seemed like she had trained her entire body.
You pull away slowly, holding her waist as you ram your cock into her cunt. Magenta’s moans slowly grow louder despite using Hyun-Jung to silence them. You raise one of your hands high into the air and bring it down on her ass, a deafening clap filling the room. Magenta felt the lingering sting on her ass. Her eyes began to roll into the back of her head as you delivered another strike. Magenta was forced to break her kiss with Hyun-Jung. She began to lap at the older woman’s neck hungrily. “Unnie, I’m going to cum. I’m gonna cum!” She cried out, her grip on Hyun-Jung tightening as her walls clamped down on your cock. Magenta pressed her ass against you, making your cock kiss her womb as she came. Your thrusts continued for another moment before you drove it deep into Magenta and filled her cunt with the first shot of cum. You pulled out and stroked your cock, painting her toned back with your cum before falling back.
You all lay on the floor, tired and wasted from the night. The next morning you woke up to the sight of the women holding each other, with Magenta suckling on Hyun-Jung’s tit as she slept. Magenta still had your cum on her back while Hyun-Jung lay in a pool of it.  Hyun-Jung’s dress would be ruined, while Magenta’s clothes were relatively untouched. You got up slowly and shook them both awake. Magenta smiled as she saw the near-naked  Hyun-Jung. “Unnie, last night was fun. We should do it again.” She said with a smile. Magenta looked at you and winked, telling you she wanted more times like last night. 
Hyun-Jung shook her head slowly, “Never again. This hangover is killing me.” She said, not realizing she was half-naked and filled with cum.
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empress-simps · 2 months
Text
Line That Leads To You
Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.
Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!
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You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.
The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.
Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.
“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.
“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.
“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)
“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.
Complete each other, huh?
Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.
Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.
That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.
Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.
He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.
“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”
“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.
Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.
You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.
“Reggie! Reggie!”
You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.
Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?
You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.
You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.
Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?
The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.
It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.
Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.
“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.
“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.
“What, Moons?”
“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?
“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.
“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.
Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”
Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”
Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “
“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.
“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”
James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”
“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.
The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.
Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.
Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’
Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”
“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”
Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.
“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.
You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.
Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”
And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.
Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.
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daylite-writes · 27 days
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Fragile Things - Yandere!Childe x Reader
At least he’s regretful when a punishment goes too far…
cws: kidnapping, isolation related punishments, yandere, self harm, softer yandere, heavier content.
1k words
~~~
“Baby, hey, look—look at me.” He was speaking firmly, his hands on your wrists, restraining you. Keeping you from clawing your skin any more than you already had.
You were absolutely inconsolable, babbling words even you couldn’t discern, sobbing, shaking. “No—no I-I—Ajax. A-Ajax.”
“That’s right. That’s right. Eyes on me. Oh baby. Too harsh? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough—”
You only broke down further, each hiccuping sob dragging you deeper as you tried to curl in on yourself.
Ajax hadn’t just kidnapped you. He’d been extremely thorough in breaking you. So thorough, a more logical you would have realized he underestimated how much you could take.
You’d been isolated, for the most part. Trying to escape the cabin in the snowy wilderness was not a good idea. Partially because, well, snow. And partially because it was easy to track people in the snow.
When he—inevitably—did catch you, he was upset. You knew the risk of punishment when you made the choice, but what he did was different to what you expected.
Your wrists, ankles, and neck all ached badly. For over a week you were locked up and shackled. And not the kind of locked up you were before the attempt. No, there wasn’t a warm cabin, a fireplace, or Tartaglia’s sloppy attempts at keeping you happy. A fucking closet. No light, windows. Ajax didn’t even speak to you when he left you food.
It was so different to everything you’d ever known, growing up in the free rolling hills of Mondstadt. You already struggled in the confines of the cabin, but kept silent and still in such a small space?
A week of that, and now he decided you were good. That you’d probably learnt your lessons. But that morning, when he went to let you out, to welcome you back with a teasing ‘I hope you learnt your lesson’ and a patronizing hug, he found you… in a less than desirable state.
Shivering not from cold, throat raspy and raw, eyes trained on the ground. You didn’t even notice him at first. Not as he spoke, each shackle falling off with a click. Not as his mood shifted as the light from the hallway illuminated your skin.
You’d been clawing at it, to the point of bleeding, stretching your limited dexterity in order to anxiously and unconsciously hurt yourself. Like a caged bird plucking it’s own feathers from stress. You’d only been brought to reality when he picked you up, jerking away from him as tears sprung to your eyes again.
He said something you didn’t process as you tried to stand up, stumbling like a doe on new legs, vision gray around the edges.
You weren’t sure how it all went down. But somehow you two ended up on the couch, settled between his thighs, your back to his chest as you shaked and begged and tried to get away, only partially aware. “No no no no—Ajax please.”
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, I got you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He repeated, letting you claw at his forearms instead of your own skin. “Breath, breath little dove. It’s okay, It's all over baby. I’m sorry, it was too much, wasn’t it? You’re too fragile for me to be mean like that.”
You continued your quick, flighty, panicked breaths as he gently tried to get you back to reality. Eventually, you’d slowed down, settling against his chest, eyes still wide and breaths still quick. Like a live rabbit in the hands of a trapper.
“You with me, baby?” He asked gently. As your chest struggled to rise and fall again, you gave a quick nod, not looking up at him. Your eyes were trained on some far off spot, pretending to be anywhere else other than that damn closet. You weren’t sure you even realized—truly realized—you’d left. “There we go. There. That’s better darling. See? Everything’s alright now.”
“E-everything's alright…” you repeated, nodding to yourself.
“Yeah. See? Not too bad. I’m sorry for your punishment, I got all caught up in my emotions. I should have known you wouldn’t do that well alone, without me.” He laid his cheek on the top of your head, voice taking on something fond. A content sigh sounded above you. “You’re so soft. I need to be careful not to break you. But you need to be careful too, baby.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, before squeaking out a soft, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, no more escape attempts. Okay?” He said, and you nodded. He ran his fingers through your hair, having let go of your wrists when you weren’t paying attention. His blunt nails, worn from hard work, scratched gently at your scalp. “That’s right.”
It continued for some amount of time. It was hard to tell, really. You were on the edge of freaking out but somehow also falling asleep. Everything ached, from your ribs to your wrists.
At some point, he grabbed them again. Gentler this time. He lifted one, holding it gently as his thumb rubbed at your self inflicted injuries.
You felt like a caged bird, bars too tight and owner too inexperienced to keep you from plucking your own feathers from stress.
He sighed above you, and you turned your head away so as to not look at him. “Poor thing.” The condescending words felt strangely genuine as he laid his cheek on the top of your head. “It’s okay, I’ll take the week off and we can fix this, okay baby?”
He quieted for a moment, and belatedly you realized he wanted a response. You made a small, hollow noise of acknowledgement, which came out raspy from your throat.
He sighed again, as if this was so hard on him. It was hard to find the energy to be angry though. So you just stayed silent as he dropped your wrist and dragged you closer to him. He was cold to the touch, but even his love was warmer than isolation.
~
Not quite sure how this one managed to be both softer and rougher than my usual works. Sorry it was so short! And yes, the next part of traitor readers will be coming… eventually. I’m having a touch of trouble formatting it which is getting in the way of be writing it. Side note, I’ve expanded my fandoms open for requests! HxH and to a lesser degree HSR!
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therapy isn’t enough, i need to live somewhere where it rains.
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The Farmer's Daughter 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You stand on your tiptoes, a dangerous choice as you stand on a wooden stool, reaching to clip pegs around the folded edge of the linen sheet. You clasp it over the cord in three places and reel along the length, bending to pull a wet pillowcase from the basket.
“You’re grinding on the clutch,” Walter’s voice carries through the barn door before he emerges, “you need another driving lesson.”
“I know how to drive stick,” your brother, Timothy, argues with the larger man. “It’s not the clutch.”
“Ermph,” the other man grunts in return.
“Thanks for having a look though,” Timothy slaps his arm lightly.
He gets another grumble from the chronically grumpy man. Walter is older than your brother, by quite a bit; and you too. He’s tall and burly and his brow never truly loses its furrow. He’s fonder of your father than Timothy; you’re sure if he didn’t feel some kinship with your father, he’d never venture this far.
Walter is a big, burly man. He has a lumbering gait you can recognise even as he’s at the property’s edge, and his curly hair falls messily around his chiseled face. There’s a touch of silver in one curl but his age doesn’t show otherwise.
You refocus on hanging the laundry. You stand on your toes and strain to clip the beg on the line. The stool wobbles and you put your feet flat, steadying it. You suck in your lower lip and look around. Timothy’s gone, you hear him back in the barn clattering through the toolbox, but Walter remains. He narrows his eyes at you as you give a sheepish smile.
“Hi, Mr. Marshall,” you say.
“Hey,” he returns in his way.
You don’t expect much more so you wind the line further and once more bend to take another piece of clothing. You quickly forget his presence and go back to your precarious game. Back on your toes, the stool tips and you gasp, a scream catching in your throat as you brace yourself for the violent tumble.
You don’t hit the ground though. You barely even tip as you're caught under the arms. You open your eyes as Walter holds you well over the ground. He does so effortlessly. 
“I… Mr. Marshall, thank you,” you breathe.
“You shouldn’t do that,” he grits.
“Um, I know,” you wiggle your feet and look at the ground, “um, can you put me down.” He does just that and you laugh at yourself, “thanks.”
“Hm,” he sidles down to the basket. 
To your surprise he takes out the next sheet and easily throws it over the line. He holds out a hand but you just stare at his calloused palm. What is he doing?”
“Pin,” he demands gruffly.
“Oh, uh, sure,” you step up and place a pin in his hand. His fingers brush around yours as he closes them. You retract your reach as he clasps it over the linen. He puts his hand out for the next and again, you hand one over.
“Don’t do it again,” he says as he grabs the next piece of laundry.
“Mr. Marshall, I won’t, but you don’t need to–”
“It’s fine,” he carries on, set on his mission of putting out the drying. “Your father wouldn’t be happy if I let you hurt yourself.”
“Erm, I guess,” you give him another pin.
He’s silent as his blue gray eyes fixate on his chore. He bends to grab more, drapes the cloth over, and takes a pin to secure it in place. You work in wordless rhythm until the basket is empty and the line is full.
“How is he?” He asks.
You put your hands behind you and wring them, “better. Ma says he’ll be home next week.”
He nods and looks at you. He crosses his arms, straining the fabric of his long-sleeved tee. It’s warm out, enough to dampen his shirt with sweat. Still, he doesn't seem to mind.
“If you need anything,” he peers around the fields, “big place for just you and the other one.”
“Oh, Tim? Yeah, we manage.”
He scratches the scruff on his chin and shifts his stance. You’ve never seen him flinch before, never hesitate or doubt, but in that moment, he seems unsure. He clears his throat and drops his hand.
“Well, have a good day,” he bows his head slightly. “Have your brother take down the laundry.”
You look away guiltily, staring at the stool, “you, too, Mr. Marshall.”
He backs away a few steps and you cautiously glance at his boots as he does. He stops and you hold your breath.
“I don’t mind Walt,” he says.
“Right,” your voice flutters, “Walt.”
He twists on his heel and continues across the grass to the trodden road. He follows it down towards the fence. You tear your gaze away and gather up the basket and the stool. You leave them on the porch and sit in the shade as sweat speckles on your forehead.
Your heart is still racing, likely from your near disastrous slip. You think you will have Timothy take down the sheets. You may even convince him to help your fold.
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