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#I remember there have been years where I really had to push myself to do the yoga for that day
jamminvroomvroom · 4 months
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something in the orange.
ln x fem!reader
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in which lando can’t always have what he wants. and neither can you.
i’m so back! missed u xoxo i kinda hate this with a passion but i had to force myself to write something bc i was getting the writers jitters lmao. pls tell me what you think and what you want next! hugs
inspired by: something in the orange by zach bryan (ouch)
songs to set the mood: call out my name by the weeknd, all of evermore actually, leave the door open by the silk sonic
warnings: 18+!! minors, BEGONE!! smut, angst, wee bits of fluff, language, alcohol mentions, inappropriate workplace relationship (reader is an engineer @ mcl), slight age gap (r is older), mutual pining, mutual denial (kinda), unprotected sex (L bozo)
3.2k words
the first time it happens doesn’t really count.
you’re drunk and lando’s worse. tensions boil over at some after party, neither of you can bare it, and he’s shoving his key card into the slot of his door while he sloppily kisses your neck. you cannot take
any responsibility for your actions that night and disregard it as a write off.
explaining away the morning after, when you fuck him again, sober and begging, is a different story.
oh, well.
it happens again. and again, and again, and again.
different cities set the mood and the danger turns you on. you trade your mclaren administrated work shirt for lingerie, and your inhibitions for good sex.
he’s younger, just a couple of years between you, but he doesn’t show it. he makes you forget it, every single time he rearranges your spread limbs on a mattress. he makes you forget his age, and the fact that careers will be over as soon as another soul finds out what you get up to when the chequered flag falls.
lando makes it easy. a flick of the wrist and a curl of the tongue makes you sob, and he smirks into the crease of your thighs every time. and when it’s over, and you’re both spent under linen sheets, you can’t even regret it. not when he makes you laugh until you cry and keeps you warm as you drift off to sleep on the rare occasions that you let yourself stay.
it can’t continue. it can’t, you tell him and yourself. every morning after is punctuated with promises that this is the end. and every time, you manage without each other until the next race weekend, when he looks at you in that knowing way that makes your thighs clench.
-
lando can’t think straight.
he never can when he slides between your thighs. it feels like home.
you’re somewhere in the middle east, he can’t actually remember where right now, not when he pushes deeper and you clamp down around his cock, so hard that he chokes out a shaky breath.
“how do you feel even better every time?” lando groans, grinding into you nice and slow.
you slur out a moan in response, tipping your head back even further as you do. it gives him the perfect opportunity to burrow into your neck, kiss over your collarbone, rock into you harder.
everything is warm, slick. this whole situation, it’s a well oiled machine now. lando sends a text and you turn up five minutes later. he ushers you into the room and then, clothes leave a trail from the door to the foot of the bed. what was once a place holder, a way to get some after a shitty race, had become something to look forward to, something that made his heart race. the anticipation, the danger of you made him weaker than he ever had been.
at first, he hated the hold you had on him. it didn’t mean that he could end this, though, not when he couldn’t help but stare at you in the garage. not when he was transfixed by the glimpse he’d get of your collarbone under your work blouse, or the stray hairs that fell over your face when you were concentrating on the data screens.
“lando, i need- i need…” you gasp, trailing off as you arch even further into his sweat glistening body.
lando smirks, sliding a hand down your
body, pinching your nipple on the way. he already knows what you need. he finds your clit, teasing over it a couple of times.
you lock eyes, warning him to give you what you want. he just grins, licks his lips and continues faint glides over the bud. it sends shockwaves over your body, and you convulse underneath him. you writhe, and writhe, and whimper and keen as your orgasm washes over you. his eyes snap shut, barrelling into you as the pleasure hits.
then, there’s silence.
he lays on top of you while you both return to planet earth, no sound but pants of breath and a soft hum from you when he finally pulls out. you smile softly when you rise from the bed, swinging your shaky legs over the side to stand.
“you staying?” lando breathes. he’s laying on his front, arms flexed as they cross beneath his head.
“not tonight, lando.” you tilt your head apologetically, voice soft and sweet. he frowns. you ignore it, and search for you underwear.
“come on, stay.” he sounds desperate to his own ears, cringing at the way the words come across, but your filter it out. you’ve become an expert at navigating - and more often than not, ignoring - the emotional strings that he tugs on. the ones that attach to your cold, cold heart.
“can’t. you’re gonna have the team here bright and early. ‘m not risking jon seeing me here when he comes to wake you up.” you explain, jumping into your jeans as you tug them up your legs.
“he won’t care.” lando argues, childlike in his negotiating.
“i care.” you scold. you hear the soft thud of his head hitting the pillows. you know you’ve won this round.
lando’s quiet for a while after that, letting you dress yourself. as you’re searching for the bag that you can’t remember if you brought or not, he springs from the bed, making a beeline for the door. you think he’s being gentlemanly, but quickly realise you’re being foolish. the fucker is blocking your exit.
“lando.” you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms, unimpressed.
“i know, i know, i’m gonna let you go. i just…” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, pondering his next words.
“you just…” you usher him along.
“i’ll let you go if you promise to have dinner with me over the summer.” he smirks.
“are you… have you lost the plot?” your eyes almost bulge out of your head.
he tried this, sometimes, tried to get you to go on a date, or get you to do something alone that didn’t involve engineering or a surface that you could fuck on. you’d naively thought he was past this.
“can we just try?” he gives you a look somewhere between i want you so bad and the infamous lando norris puppy dog eyes. lava heats your cheeks and your belly, and the butterflies come out of hibernation. you couldn’t deny, you wanted to try. but, at what cost?
“text me.” you murmur, gesturing for him to move.
“so, that’s a yes?” lando questions.
“text me, and i’ll think about it.”
he decides that he’s gotten the best possible answer out of you, and finally let’s you make your great escape.
you almost collapse on jelly-like knees the second the door shuts behind you. standing your ground with him was getting too difficult, too tiresome. the boy was hard fucking work, and he always got what he wanted.
you’d often daydreamed about him taking you out, getting dressed up nice to sip wine and eat too expensive food, and eventually getting undressed. you realised, however, that those kinds of thoughts were to be banished, after you got caught up in fantasies during a race and almost had the pit crew put mediums on during a bout of rain.
wanting him was dangerous. it could be career ending, reputation destroying, heartbreaking.
one date wouldn’t hurt, just to satisfy his appetite. he’d probably get bored eventually. you wouldn’t let it get further than one meal, one last night with him, and then it would stop.
one more time. just one.
-
you’re waiting on your sofa for the text that tells you he’s arrived.
your hair is curled, messy. just how he likes it. you’re wearing something short and black. your high heel taps against the floor as you bounce your leg nervously.
he’d texted, just like you’d told him to, and then a date was set. just one dinner, one time only. you were gonna tell him that, too.
it’s a bit of fun, you think. dinner and shag. companionship. it was lonely on the road, and sometimes each other was all you could have. it made sense, you figured, that he had honed in on you. you’d done the same to him.
just when you think he’s late, there’s a knock on your door. you were an expecting an “i’m here” text, not the full package. after all, this date was just a formality, right?
you try not to shake as you make your way to the door. lando looks so good that you almost cave and say, “sure, let’s give this a go, eh?”. he’s wearing a shirt that fits painfully well, clinging nicely to a delectable frame. the buttons he’s left undone provide a gorgeous window to his collarbone and the necklaces that hang from his thick neck.
“you look beautiful.” he compliments, rakes his eyes over your body.
“don’t look so bad yourself.” you try to tease but it comes out flustered. you ignore the way his eyes light up.
“you ready?” he asks, you nod.
your heart flutters when he effortlessly takes your hand in his.
-
the restaurant is in the middle of nowhere, and you’re the only two people dining. maybe it’s because of the ‘closed’ sign that gets placed on the door when you arrive. so, he’s gone all out, you think. you’re shocked at how hard he’s tried to keep this private. maybe this isn’t the formality you think it is, maybe this isn’t his way of feeling better about meaningless sex. maybe it wasn’t as meaningless as you pretended it was.
he had you belly laughing within minutes, laying the charm on thick. wine and conversation flowed effortlessly and you were quickly regretting saying yes to this. you were in danger.
in a moment of silence, you catch his eye from across the table.
“you know, this is a one time thing, right?” you almost whisper. you almost kick yourself, why would you say that now? it doesn’t even phase him.
“that’s what you think.” he grins, devilish and stunning.
“i mean it.” you smirk.
“sure you do, honey.” he says, it sounds a lot like ‘game on’.
-
you stir, eyes slowly fluttering open. orange light washes over you, dancing in the pair of eyes you find staring back at you.
the eyes watching you sleep belong to the same person whose strong arms are wrapped around you, nice and secure.
you croak out a good morning, and he grins at how hoarse you sound. it was all his fault for making you whimper and scream, begging and crying for a release.
the date had gone really well.
“coffee?” lando offers.
“just the one, need to get home.” you bring things back to reality.
two coffees and four orgasms later, you head home.
-
the blurry pictures of you and him leaving the restaurant make you ill.
no one can quite tell it’s you, not yet anyway. twitter is ablaze.
faceless accounts call the blurry woman in the pictures the cruelest of names. you cry for hours, and then you stop for a bit, cry some more. rinse, repeat.
you pull on a jacket, scramble for your car keys. this time, you’ll mean what you say.
-
there’s a knock on the door.
when he opens it, you shuffle inside like you always do, coat hangs on the hook with a scarf to match. silence lingers until you reach the kitchen. the kettle hisses. you didn’t even know that he knew how to use one.
“this has to stop.” you say. emotionless. inside, agony sinks into every emotional cut and scrape. you don’t let him notice.
“i know.” he agrees. he’s seen the pictures, too. “okay.”
the kettle is forgotten, two mugs abandoned; he carries you to bed.
one last time.
-
two fingers loosen you up for him, drawing you steadily over the edge. he doesn’t stop there, no. he slows right down, letting you ride out your high, but only for a second. he speeds up once again, grinding his fingers into you at godspeed, and you feel your eyes dampen with tears.
your entire body glistens with sweat and your release, the overstimulation making your toes curl and your back arch. you wonder if the tears streaming down your face are just a result of the way his fingers are curling so deliciously against your walls, so good that it hurts, or if it’s because you know this will be the last time he gets his hands all over you.
“lando,” you cry, grasping at nothing. he’s got you naked in the middle of his bed, and he’s still fully clothed, kneeling between your spread thighs like a man on a mission.
his motivation is to make you stay, to make you regret the fact that once this is over, you’re choosing not to come back. his need for you, that raging desire that fuels your every encounter, it has only increased tenfold since the night of your date. but lando isn’t stupid, he knows that after those photos were published the brakes were on this… thing. this was his only chance to convince you to keep this going, but he was fighting a losing battle.
“what do you want, honey? you want me?” lando grunts, speeding up even more. you didn’t think that what he was doing was humanly possible, but the stars you saw and the way your body was practically levitating off the bed said otherwise.
“only gonna have me one last time? is that really what you want, baby?” he continues to run his mouth, crooning over you. you call out his name, begging. begging for another release, begging that you could stay here forever. with him.
and then you see white and god, and you convulse until you’re collapsing into the mattress. your vision is blurry from the tears and the haze and the unwavering emotional torment.
you grab at him, languidly pulling him in. it takes all the strength you have left to secure him, your feet shoving his jeans down his hips while your hands rip his t-shirt off. you’re keening, too sensitive and too needy. you’re agonising over his touch, you need him to sink so deeply into you, so that you can feel him when it’s over and you’re far away from what almost feels like home.
his breath shakes and his eyes gloss over when he pushes into you.
“let me stay like this, just for a minute.” he chokes out. you nod rapidly, your eyes squeezing shut. he kisses into the crook of your neck, panting and mumbling sweet, painful words over and over.
your hands run over golden planes of warmth and muscle, memorising every dip and crease of him. he slowly rolls his hips and your belly clenches, veins set alight. one of his hands scoop up up your wrist, and the motion creates a deep grind unlike anything you’ve ever felt. your wrists are pinned above your head and lando hovers over you so that he stays level, continuing that slow grind, hips hitting yours hard and slow.
he draws a low whine from the back of your throat, one that makes his hips stutter and your pussy clamp down on him as a pleasurable result. you can feel fingerprints forming around the tender skin of your wrists and you want him to dig in harder, slip into your veins and become a permanent part of you.
lando’s eyes are greyer than you’ve ever seen them, boring into your own. you don’t think you ever break eye contact, staring deep into his soul as he stretches every possible part of you. he doesn’t want this to end, you can’t pretend that you do, either.
he changes his angle slightly, long strokes replacing the short drags, but he keeps hitting deep. something possesses you to lean in, as much as you can given his hold on you, and you capture his lips in a kiss that takes him aback for a second. he melts into it, though, and then you’re chest to chest. tongues meet, and moans meld, your legs snake around him like vines.
“need you to come for me, honey. one last time, yeah? need you to feel good for me, baby.” lando mumbles into your mouth, wet and hushed. it’s overwhelming, and everything goes blank. all you are aware of is the burst of pleasure, his hold on your limp wrists, and two grey green eyes that are begging you to stay.
-
you get dressed quickly, whisper goodbye, and disappear out the door. something stops you, and you need clarity, for him more than for yourself.
you peek round the door, finding his unwavering gaze. your forehead creases, awkward anguish. the way you’re looking at him, deep and sympathetic, it makes you ache. this may well have to be the last time you look at him this intently. it stings.
“it’s better this way, you know?” you murmur.
lando nods, begrudgingly, yet obediently in defeat.
and then, once more, you’re gone and the latch on the door clicks somewhere far away in his apartment. he sinks into the bed, drowning in bed sheets and agony. his head thuds against the pillow and he stares out the window. the orange sunset makes his eyes burn. there’s something about the colour that makes him nauseous now that you’re gone.
-
a few days later, you’re in a meeting that you can’t focus on. he’s sat opposite you, not that you spare him a glance. it’s too painful.
you’ve been here for hours, your body becoming one with the office chair that you’re sinking deeper and deeper into.
yes, the car needs to be faster. yes, your heart hurts. yes, we need to up the strategy game.
you zone out, for the umpteenth time, losing yourself in the dark orange sky. it’s getting late. you crave sleep in your lonely bed. while you stare at the swirls and hues of warmth, you shiver.
lando, on the other hand, hasn’t heard a word said since he sat down. not when his eyes instantly find bruised wrists on the other side of the table. they match the bruises on his heart, the ones that you’d left behind when you’d grabbed it, stolen it from its solitude cage.
he watches you watch the sunset, and then the meeting is dismissed and everyone rushes home for dinner.
“who was that you took for dinner, then, noz?” one of the mechanics jeers at lando as you’re leaving the boardroom. those damned fucking photos would never let you sleep well again.
you’re a couple of steps ahead of them, ears perked up. you’re nauseous.
“no one you know.” lando laughs uncomfortably, waving it off. he sounds exhausted.
you fight with the revolving door and rush to your car. you scream as soon as the door slams and you’re in the drivers seat. you thrash against the steering wheel, and then you scream again.
when you compose yourself, and pull out of your parking space, you notice lando’s range rover ahead of you. when you get to the end of the drive, he will turn left, towards london, and you will turn right.
the devil on your shoulder murders the angel in cold blood, silencing the only voice of reason you had left.
when you reach the junction, you turn left, too.
-
yikes. anyways lmao
-
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removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3
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shojizbae · 1 month
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Rave Baby
Spencer Reid x Reader
After a long case, some of the team pitstops at your apartment, and Morgan takes the liberty of searching through some memories. He comes across some scandalous photos that light a fire in Reid.
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This last case was challenging. To make it worse, the power had gone out in DC due to a blackout. With a chirp, I told the team that I always had a generator and that we could cool with some coronas in my fridge. Hotch had declined, stating the necessity of returning to his wife and son. I had thrown open all the windows and cranked the AC, attempting to push out all the hot air. With my permission, Derek had distributed beers from my fridge and found a bag of chips.
A battery-powered radio was located, and my CDs were run through to find something to unwind with. With a sigh, Emily sank onto my couch and sipped her beer.
"Uhh, I can't tell you how nice your apartment is."
"Yeah," JJ groaned from the corner, holding her hair up and sticking her face in the AC vent. Derek was still looking through my belongings when he came across a Scooter CD.
"Well, well, well, where did a girl like you find this type of music?" I looked at the album cover.
"Oh, that's from my college days." I tried to dismiss it. This isn't the sort of stuff I would share with my coworkers.
"Really? Let's go ahead and pop this in."
"No don't!" I tried to launch it at him before he could open it, but it was too late. A few photos I took the night I bought that CD slipped into his lap.
"Woah ho ho!" Spencer, who had been content to sift through my shitty romance novels, peaked his head up like a prairie dog at the sound of Derek's chuckle. "What do we have here?" He held up one photo, and I hid behind my beer bottle.
"That was years ago," I whined
"What is this?" Spencer came to the group, attention fully peaked
"It's (Y/n). At a rave." Spencer snatched the photo out of Morgans's hand like a cat but Emily nearly yelled
"Shut up, let me see." she slammed her glass bottle on the table and grabbed one of the photos from him
"No way," JJ stated, following Spencer into the circle to look at the evidence. "I could never imagine you at a rave. I've seen you get upset that you left your clothes in the washing machine."
"They'll get moldy," I whined
"Holy shit. Where was this?" Emily inspects a photo of me in a bikini, fluffy leg warmers, and a matching bucket hat. "Look at your butt where were you hiding this." She makes an attempt to check me out, but I sink further into my couch
"I don't know, I was never sober in the 72 hours around a rave."
"Oh yeah? What did you take?" Morgan begged
"All sorts of crap, mostly hallucinogens. My rave mentor told me music is better when you're high."
"So why'd you stop going?" Emily asked
"I grew up."
"You grew up?" JJ asked, putting the photo on the table
"Yeah," I rubbed my hands up and down my thigh and sighed. I wasn't entirely ready to trauma-dump the team, but here I was. "My uncle, who basically raised me, passed on Thanksgiving in the sophomore year of my bachelor's. Hallucinogens made it easy not to grieve, and loud music blocked my ability to think. I would dance around and tell everyone that 'tonight was the night,' and I was 'finally free,' but I would just see him after a while. He would ask me, 'Why are you doing this, my dove?'. I couldn't ignore him anymore, so I just stopped. Put all my teeny bikinis in a box and put it past me." I cleared my throat, realizing that I had put a damper on the mood
"We could play the CD. I think I'll still remember the rhythm." I switched in the discs and let the synth radiate through my living room. Immediately, I felt the groove, letting it carry my limbs airily around me. I felt myself disconnect as the beat continued to pump. Before I could drift away wholly, Emilie's voice brought me down to earth.
"You packed all this away? That means you still have it?"
"Yeah, in a box in the back of my closet." before I could discover my mistake, she darted to the back of my apartment, and JJ took off with her.
"Oh hell, I gotta see this." Derek got up and dropped the last of the photos. Reid dutifully packed them up and sifted through the photos, stopping on one.
"What did you find, Spence?" I crawled toward him slowly. I gasped at the photo. My Rave mom, Zoe, who was only 4 months older than me, and I were posing together. He sifted through the images with it and stacked them. I gasped at the image. The photo on the top was of Zoe throwing up a peace sign, showing the neon pink paint on her palms, and a green hand was playfully on my throat. Both of our bodies had been splattered with neon ain't, but noticeably, I had two big hands brink on the triangle bikini we wore. One pink, one green.
The picture below was of Zoe and I very dramatically kissing. Zoe had made smudged hand prints on my ass. I had a leg up on her hip, and you could see drool and lipstick around each other mouths.
"I hardly even remember that night, and I thought it was trendy to act gay." I pulled the pictures from his hand and returned them to the case. "I'm sorry you had to see that."
"Why are you apologizing? Y-you had fun."
"Yeah, but you're my colleague. This is embarrassing and you probably are ashamed of me."
"Actually, I'm jealous. In college, I had no friends and didn't go to parties. I was, I am, a loser. You had fun."
"Did you not hear my spiel about using drugs not to think?"
"Yeah, but you were hot." That shocked you. He was only two beers deep, and Reid was spilling his secrets.
You laughed in shock.
"Spencer, you can't say things like that." I slapped at his chest playfully.
"WELL!" I could hear Derek's strained voice. "This!" he put the giant plastic tub on the floor next to us. "This is one heavy bucket of slutty clothes."
"I want to try something on!" JJ greedily popped the snaps on the cover. With giggles, JJ and Emily started pulling out bikinis that looked like they were made out of spider webs.
"Woah ho ho!" Derek giggled, holding up a low-rise thong. "I hope you wore a jacket."
"Alright, that's enough!" I grabbed it from his reach
"Hey, could I borrow one of these?" JJ asked. "Will has been asking for something new."
"Yeah, but don't borrow it. I don't want it back." I made a face of disgust
"Yeah, I might want to just wear one around my apartment?" Emily held something balled up
"Take as many as you want. I won't wear them again. I should sell them. I could finally go on vacation."
"Woah woah woah, if you sell these, what will you wear on vacation?" Derek joked
"Clothes." I snatched another piece of hosiery from him. My knees cracked as I stood and got another beer from the kitchen. "Now, get out of my panties." I swatted him with the bottoms as I walked by
by some stroke of God, the lights flicked back on, and across the street, I could see the surrounding building come back to life.
"Well, I've got to get to my house before my ice cream spoils." Emily stood and collected a few pieces of fabric.
"Yeah, and completely unrelated. I have to call Will." JJ juts out her lip in an admission of guilt. They snuck out the door, giggling and tucking crazy fabric in their bags.
"I should get going too, wonder boy. You need a ride home?"
"No, I should be fine. There's a train in the next hour." Reid was still immersed in the photos.
"Well, don't bug her too badly." He left with a wink
"Why are you still looking at those? They're ancient."
"The date on the back says 1998, making you 20 years old. You're 28." Finally, he puts the photos down. "I'm having a hard time picturing you going to a rave. You only read sappy novels from the seventies. I saw three copies of Tuck Everlasting on your shelves." All the talk from my coworkers and the five beers in my system made me more than angry and bold.
Stupid ideas were my biggest export when I was inebriated.
"Well, I know the FBI has kept me in shape. I'm going to my bedroom and try these on." I gave a coy smile as I took a handful of sets and strutted off to the back of my place.
"W-what do you mean you're going to try them on."
"I've gotta see if they still fit."
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neil-gaiman · 7 months
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Hi Neil,
First off, Good Omens is so wonderful— thank you (and Terry Pratchett and David Tennant and Michael Sheen!) for bringing Crowley and Aziraphale into existence. They bring so much joy to me and to so many people!
Secondly, I have a writing question! I am not a writer, primarily; I’m a scientist. But, I’m a scientist writing a journal article, specifically a journal article that has been hanging over my head for many years now. I’ve reached a point where I feel completely burnt out, almost pathologically unable to make progress on the manuscript. The data and results are strong and important, and I recognize that it’s a “story” that needs to be told, and that I’m the only one who can tell it (not to mention that I have several collaborators counting on me to get this done!).
So, my question is, have you ever had a story that you felt, for one reason or another, that you really should tell or needed to tell, but that was a horrific struggle to actualize on the page? Do you have any advice for how to make myself write when I’m completely demoralized and weary with what I’m writing, but unfortunately am nearly contractually unable to simply throw it in the trash and start on something else?
Thank you so much for any advice you can give (or even just a word of encouragement!!), and for your continued engagement with the writing and fandom communities! 
Sometimes you can do it by getting out of your own way. Sometimes you can do it by remembering or finding out once again what do you like about the project on the story to begin with.
I have frequently found when faced with a story that had died or that I had lost interest in or that I thought was awful, that if I read it aloud to another person they get interested and I start getting interested and often finish wanting to carry on to find out what happens next and to move forward. Dead projects have come back to life like this.
But it's also worth remembering that there are bad days and there are good days and there are projects that even if the days are awful and the whole thing feels terrible, the only way you will get to the good days is by pushing forward. The good days are there and waiting for you -- you just have to keep going to reach them.
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ew-selfish-art · 10 months
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Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice. 
Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can. 
Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there. 
It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.
Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically. 
It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood. 
He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie. 
“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?” 
“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.
“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.” 
“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.
“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty. 
“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-” 
“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-” 
“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles. 
“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word. 
Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.
“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.” 
And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home. 
The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!
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danibeanie · 3 months
Text
your gonna remember me
Astrology observations (synastry)
the wounded healer chiron😋
-people you have chiron synastry are usually people that your never gonna forget. Wether it be a good or bad ending there is always gonna be a hidden feeling of what ifs between the 2.
Moon conjunct Chiron synastry = hidden feelings of confession we both feel something for each other but it just can’t happen. (1st BOY I REALLY liked and I just knew he liked me 2 but he was leaving for college out of state and we both knew it wasn’t gonna happen)
Mercury conjunct Chiron synastry=hurt through the topic of communication.usually didn’t care to communicate. (2nd boy that hurt me with not caring to fix things on how they went down.. all he had to do is apologize.)
Where your Chiron is also depends on how this synastry play out- for me this synastry occurs in my 9th house which rules travel and school… how this occurred for me was one person is always leaving wether it be graduating school and going their separate ways or getting a scholarship and leaving the state meaning I CANT SEE THEM😍
Saturn synastry oh boy.
-a man usually has his saturn conjuncting my planets and while it is good for long term it’s also hard if you don’t have any saturn aspects in your chart or saturn energy in general. Your gonna feel a bit trapped and they’ll probably remind you of your parents somehow lmao.
There’s always a age difference in this synastry wether it be 2 years ,4, or even 1 the Saturn person will want to commit to you and will feel the need to stick by you. Way stronger if they have Capricorn or Aquarius placements.
These people are usually karmic (Saturn ruling karma) and these people just come into your life outta nowhere 😭 mostly needed.
natal venus retrograde rant :/
-It’s so hard having this in your chart because every person you’ve ever had a bond with or romantic partnership will always affect you WAY MORE than it should. we take relationships to the extreme and it’s so easy to get disappointed from people that don’t reciprocate how much we give and give. I’ve learned that the hard way and so many call us guarded and bit cold but just know it’s cause of past hurt. LITERALLY PAST HURT 😭.
NN synastry
-NOW THIS ONE… I had my Venus conjunct a guys north node and it felt so free and easy going yet terrifying and a bit uncomfortable. The north node is what we’re trying to learn in this life and people that put planets in it usually give a lesson to learn built off of the planet. in this case I had a relationship (Venus)with NN and it didn’t last long, we both got hurt in the end but I know that this was meant to happen AS A LESSON. I felt like the best version of myself and you can just be yourself. The nn perosn had a HUGE crush on me and u can feel the pure admiration from the nn🥲
I’ve been in both sides b4 and I have a man’s Venus conjunct my nn rn and I just wanna give and give to him. His Venus falls into my 12th house where this conjunction occurs but it’s also unconditional support and It’s a bond-like no other.
The planet person and any axis points that conjunction another north node will always help you in your path. Neither will forget but the nn person will always be thankful for the planet person for pushing them to where they are now.
In conjunction synastry😀
-you know that saying opposites attract well yeah this is literally OPPOSITES ATTRACT. When you date someone you have inconjunction with *cough *cough (gemini and capricorn) it can give u a doozy. I can literally write essays about this dynamic but I’ll keep it short and sweet. If you ever get into a relationship with someone that has Inconjunction with most of your planets and add this with 4th house and 8th house synastry…. Its something both of you will learn from. You’ll think back at this relationship and be like wow I dated him?!?😭
some background info I was a senior in highschool and even though I knew people I wasn’t super popular like at all lmao. this guy that was known to be a huge player and just super attractive had a huge crush on me since forever. We ended up dating and that was my 1st ever thing with anyone and let’s just say I got hurt obviously but I left. So many people questioned this relationship “she’s so nice” and “he’s so cocky” well yeah. It’s just 2 different people that are attracted to each other but just think too differently to make it work.
What makes this so strong is that we both really don’t know how this person acts. It’s like with opposition even though their opposites there’s similar traits. Inconjunction just screams going into a job you’ve never worked at and just learning everything on the spot.😭
8th house synastry
If a man’s planets fall into your 8th house just know that they want u so bad. LMAO JK no but actually they want to know everything about you and the attraction is off the charts with this one. - the boy from earlier had his sun in my 8th house and the tension between us was something I never felt b4. I felt uncomfortable and rushed. He was shining light on this relationship he wanted with me and I felt like he could see right thru me. (I have Pluto in the 8th house so I felt like my boundaries where even higher.) if you’ve never interacted with your 8th house sign your either gonna make the worst enemies of them or the bestest friends. 8th house also rules 1st when it comes to anything sexual. He was my 1st kiss
I have so much more to say but I’ll save it for another post and thank you guys for the likes on my last post!😙💘
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cherry-leclerc · 3 months
Text
method acting ☆ cl16
genre: series - humor, strangers to friends/roommates
word count: 5.1k
cherry here!... first req that turns into a mini series and I'M SO EXCITED. the idea was perfect and i really hope you all enjoy this little story based off one of the best films :) common changes and adjustments are made for the plot but HAPPY READING
*can you guess what film it's based off of? where the title originates from?
ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six
Chapter 1
Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.
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Parents know best - at least that’s what we’re all told growing up. How about bioengineering? Cardiothoracic surgeon? Architecture? With braces and a messy fishtail, you shake your head profusely as you clutch onto your notebook. 
"No. Journalism."
“Why didn’t I listen to my mom?” Groaning, you rub your tired hands all over your face as your roommate stares back, bewildered by your sudden frustration. 
“You’re telling me doing open heart surgery would have been better than writing an article?”
Aiming a pencil at her, you gasp as you cover your mouth and she squints her brown eyes at you. “I am so sorry!” Running up, you hug her desperately. “I’m just stressed, I’m stressed, I’m stressed!” You pull away. “I’m stressed.”
Amelia chuckles as she sits down on a stool, pointing for you to do the same. “You, my serial killer friend, need a break.” You frown at her choice of words. If I take a break then I’m going to get fired. She smiles brightly. “You won’t though.”
You can distinctively pinpoint the moment a ripped up journal turned into a laptop. It was senior year of highschool and you finally had the courage to confront your parents and tell them that you, if fact, were not joking about your bachelors in journalism.
"Darling, how will you make a living out of something like that?"
For a moment, her words had you second guessing your choices. Could she be onto something? Know something perhaps you don’t? The older, the wiser, no? 
But you had already applied - it was done. So you tipped your head firmly, clicked your tongue against your straight teeth, and smiled.
"I’ll find a way."
You moan softly as you hit your forehead with the palm of your hand. “What I would give to just be an elementary school teacher…Grading papers, cute kids-”
“Shit everywhere, tantrums, headaches, signs of early aging - oh God - receding hairline!” Amelia pales as she scrunches her nose in disgust. “Nightmare.” The blonde reaches for your hands, intertwining her fingers into yours. “But this is your dream, it’s what you're good at. Don’t let a little writer's block scare you away.”
-
“Goodness gracious! Are you alright?” Lucy’s southern accent surprises you as you fix your crutches. The older lady had been working at the famous magazine company since you can remember, always a cheerful receptionist. Loud, too. 
You wince. “Oh, you know…clumsy me?” 
"Eleanor is never going to let me take a vacation. I would have to die first."
Amelia’s eyes twinkle deviously. 
"Then that’s what we’ll do."
"Die?"
“It’s okay, I could open it myself,” you yelp as Lucy swings the door to your boss’ office. Let me, she insists as she pushes you in. Tumbling, you hurry to fix your posture as you nervously giggle, beady eyes staring back at your rude interruption. “I had no idea you were in the middle of a meeting.”
Eleanor and a crowded room all look you up and down before she sighs. “You’re already here, what is it that you need?” You shudder at her cold tone.
“I- uh- I mean, if it’s possible, I was t-thinking I could maybe get a m-m-month off?”
Oh no, someone whispers as they catch the editor-in-cheifs face change. Your stomach drops. Or not, I’m fine! The gray haired lady stands up as she tauntingly makes her way over, circling you like a hungry lion. “And why do you need a month off?”
“Doctor’s orders?”
She hums, analyzing your casted leg and left arm. “I’m sure you can type with your right hand. Off you go.” You blink. Once she takes a seat, she narrows her eyes again. “I said you can go.”
“Of course. Have a nice day.”
"She’s going to see right through me," you repeat for the millionth time as Amelia's boyfriend, Roman, works on the fake casts. 
She groans. "With that attitude she will! Get it together. You have to stand your ground and don't dare walk out of that office without a month off."
Terrified of your best friend, you nod. "Thank you again for this future doc, hope you don’t get fired."
He pales. "The things we do for the people we love, am I right?" Amelia blushes.
Letting out a shaky breath, you brace yourself before tripping and falling straight onto your back. The whole room gasps in shock as Eleanor stares back with a bored expression. Shit, are you okay? Peeking with one eye, you catch Grayson - Eleanor’s son - staring back with a helpful hand. 
He had always been nice to you, bringing you coffee whenever he was around. Sometimes he even helped you brainstorm new ideas. Your heart rate accelerates as you struggle to get up. Mother, she can’t be working in this condition. She huffs as she waves her hand in dismissal, Dior bracelets clicking against one another. 
A month. That’s it.
“Thank you,” you whisper as he helps you into your overly priced Uber. He tilts his head, slowly tracing your features.
“You're lying, aren’t you?” He signals at your poorly done cast. 
“I c-can explain-”
He laughs. “Your secret's safe with me.” Reaching over, he buckles you. Your breath hitches. “Enjoy your time off. I’ll be waiting for you.”
-
“I’ll be waiting for you!” You swoon as you retell your embarrassing story to the cozy couple who cuddle on the couch like proud parents. 
Amelia claps. “He’s the one! I feel it!” Roman scoffs. Settle down, daydreamers. Your friend slaps his hand. “Debbie Downer.” You giggle as she wiggles her eyebrows. “So…what are you going to do now that you're free?”
You tap your chin. “Um, probably write.”
Her smile falls. “This is the whole reason we even did any of this! For you to not think and just enjoy yourself!” 
Her boyfriend nods, floppy hair bouncing up and down. “Yeah, I didn’t go through all that,” he signals to the casts that lay by the doorway, “Just for you to lay around doing what you always do.” He stands up to grab an apple. “Travel, I’m serious.”
-
Amalfi Coast. It called you poor in seven different languages as you tug your suitcase into your AirBnB. Amelia and Roman had sat through 8 hours of planning everything, detail and safety included. 
"Oh, click that one!" Roman tsks his tongue as his fingers slide against the keypad. The blonde beams. "That’s perfect!"
"Perfectly out of my range," you sigh as you slap it shut. "I’ll die homeless if I stay there." The couple share a silent look before returning their attention.
"Well, we were thinking… " the brunette starts before your friend cuts him off, jumping up and down on his lap. He groans. 
"Sorry, honey, but anyways, we’ll pay for it!" Your jaw drops as you wave your finger, shutting down the idea.
"There’s no way I’m going to let you guys do that-"
"Okay, maybe not all, but at least a good chunk of it," she butts in as Roman stays with a soft smile. "Isn’t that right? " He nods.
"Take it as an early birthday present," he adds. Your chest tightens at their kind gesture.
"That’s still a lot of money." You grow light headed.
"Then no birthday presents for two years," Amelia squeaks as she grabs your hands over the coffee table. "Just don’t say no, you need this." You debate inside your head for a few minutes before letting out a shaky breath.
"No birthday presents for the rest of my life and we have ourselves a deal."
Which is how you landed in one the most beautiful homes you think you will ever see in your entire life. You can’t even pretend to try and fit in because everything seems to make your eyes pop out of their sockets. 
After a bit of unpacking, your sweet tooth gets the best out of you as you grab your purse and head out the door. You can’t help but take pictures at almost everything you see, but everyone was doing the same so there couldn’t be too much judgment. Paying for your lemon sorbet, you hum constantly as you stare into the ocean. The breeze was warm, but not obnoxiously so. The rocks underneath you tickle slightly as you get comfortable. 
Then you hear it, light snores. Startled, you turn over as you catch a man sleeping, arm laying over his stomach. You think about maybe moving location but when he releases soft whimpers, you find yourself growing sympathetic. What if he was in trouble? You couldn’t let a person die if they were three feet away from you. Hesitantly, you crawl your way over as you tap his leg.
“Ciao,” you say, but you can only catch his nose scrunching up since he had a hat laying over him, covering his mysterious features. Biting down on your lip, you dig your finger harder. “Ciaooo.” Sitting up abruptly, he groans, shoulder bumping against your cone. You yelp before pouting at your treat melting all over the surface. 
“Oh merda, colpa mia,” he apologizes as soon as he notices your gloomy mood. “Posso comprartene un altro se vuoi, ti prometto che non sono un serial killer-” Like a cat being bathed, you jump up high as you create a large distance. 
“Serial killer?” you squeal. He catches onto your accent swiftly as he waved his hands in defense. 
“I’m not! I’m not!” You eyed him suspiciously, chest heaving heavily. “I was offering to buy you another cone and saying that I’m not a sick serial killer, that’s all…” He signals to your desert. “I feel bad.”
Releasing a soft breath of relief, you smile politely. “Don’t worry about it. I was just trying to see if you were okay, you were kind of…” You theatrically twitch as he chuckles. Your cheeks burn up at the sound. 
“I’m fine, thank you.” A beat. “Sort of.” Softly narrowed eyes stare back at him. Do you need anything? He winces at the bright sun. “I feel a bit sick, if I’m being honest.” He zigzags a bit before falling straight into the rocks, painful grunts following. You shriek as you run over, flipping him onto his back.
“Holy fuck, holy fuck.” Other than a cut up lip, he’s fine, but he groans like there’s no tomorrow. Rightfully so, you start panicking as you dab his bottom lip with the hem of your shirt, then you remove his hat.
“Don’t!” But you’re already tossing it over your shoulder as you analyze his bruised up cheek. 
Green eyes look into yours as you stop breathing. His eyes are sensitive, like some sort of past soulmate, if you believe in that type of bullshit. His hair is rusty brown, long strands hitting up to his lashes. His nose is slightly pointy and it’s worse that they’ve always been your favorite kind. Lip swollen from his clumsiness, but a natural pink. Freckles and moles sprinkle along his face. 
Scooting away, he raises finger over his lips, cryptically telling you to hush. Confused, you lay your palm against his cheekbone. “You need to see a doctor.” Now he becomes visibly bewildered as he cocks his head to the side. You don’t know who I am? Flushed, you extend your hand, introducing yourself. “And you are?”
The brunette lets out an unhinged laugh as his large hand swallows yours. “Charles, I- I m-my name is Charles.” Dimples pop up from how wide he’s smiling, and that almost leaves you gasping for air. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Then he grabs his head in discomfort. “Seriously though, you need to see a doctor.” No, he starts. You roll your eyes. “Fine, a medico or whatever you want to call it.” Helping him up, he leans against you as you wheeze.
“I’m perfectly fine, I just need to sleep.” He pants against your head, catching a whiff of your shampoo scent. “Pretty,” he mumbles. You blush harder. “Do you think you can take me to the nearest hotel?”
“I don’t know if that's such a good idea,” you mutter. “Don’t take it the wrong way, but I don’t know you at all.” He shyly nods before removing his arm away from your figure, and all of a sudden it’s cold. 
“I get it, don’t worry.” The green eyed boy waves goodbye before stumbling away. 
You have always been a bit of a people pleaser, one of your many flaws. Amelia and Roman had always called you out on it, stopping you from making stupid decisions.
But Amelia and Roman weren't here.
“Wait.” Charles turns around, loopy eyes squinting at your blurry physique. Making your way over, you take his arm and place it over you. “You can stay with me, I’m just up that hill.”
-
“You can’t be helping out boujee vagrants,” your friends scold you over the phone as you grimace. “Why would you do that?”
You nibble on your painted nail. “I felt bad…” 
Roman snickers before coming into frame. “What if he’s some kind of maniac?” Like a child, you shake your head.
“He said he wasn’t!”
The couple groan at your naiveness. “Boy, let’s just trust everyone we meet then!” The blonde pushes her face directly onto the screen. “You need to slap him awake and kick him out.” 
But there was something so peaceful and homey about the way Charles was sleeping, covered like a butterfly in a cocoon. His chest rises up and down as he occasionally reaches for the other pillow, bringing towards his chest. With one last glaze, you leave the bedroom.
“I can’t do that to him. He was in really bad shape, you should have seen him.”
God can’t even help her, Roman grunts before strolling away. Amelia sighs. “Listen, I know you’re just being a good person, but you don’t even know this guy. We just want you to be safe.” I know, you mumble, chewing on your hoodie’s string. She tips her head. “Let him stay the night if you want, but tomorrow, he leaves. I’m not playing around.”
“Tomorrow,” you reassure her before hanging up. 
-
He had slept for a day and a half and you were starting to get worried but after contemplating throwing his body over the balcony, he was stretching like a newborn baby. “That was the best nap I’ve had in years.” You chuckle awkwardly at the stranger.
“That was most definitely not a nap.” 
He smiles. “Did you sleep well?”
“So good,” you respond quickly and he would have settled with that if it weren’t for your dark under eyes.
“Shit, you haven’t slept?” 
“I did, I promise!” Green eyes reflect intently as you crumble. “Okay, I didn’t, but it was only for two days.” Two? You cringe. “There was just one bed and I didn’t know whether you were-” You trail off. 
“Wasn’t what?”
Maroon paints your cheekbones. “A psycho killer…” You can tell he’s offended by the way he rubs the tip of his nose, as if he’s trying to ease the tension.
“I’m not the Monster of Florence or anything like that,” he mutters as you begin to apologize, watching as he sits far enough away just in case you feel the need to bolt out the door. “But I understand why you don’t trust me. We don’t know each other…So, why don’t we work on that?”
It takes about an hour for him to tell you what he considers the basics about his entire persona, and you rant about your upbringing. He frowns.
“That must have sucked. Not having parents who believe in you.” You flinch at his truthful words.
“I think they’re starting to get it,” you pathetically try but even he can see right through your weak excuse. Focusing your attention onto your twiddling thumbs, you exhale. “How did your parents react when you told them you wanted to be a mechanic?”
The Monegasque seems stunned for a nanosecond before munching on a blueberry and crossing his arms. “Their only priority was for me to be happy and doing what I love.” You smile sadly.
“Are you happy? Do you love it?”
“It’s my favorite thing in the world.” 
You feel a giggle bubbling inside your throat with the way he speaks about his job, but then you’d be doing the exact same thing that others do to you. He coughs. “So tell me, you really faked an injury?”
Your stomach hurts from how much Charles was making you laugh and before either of you knew it, the sun had set. “Did we really just waste an entire day?” 
“I don’t see it as wasting my day. I really like talking to you.”
Forcing yourself to look away, you untuck your legs from underneath your butt. “Wanna grab something to eat?”
There’s a comfortable silence that lingers between you both as you walk the busy streets of Amalfi. “Do you really need to wear a beanie? It’s burning hot.” Looking around, he shrugs and continues walking. 
You settled on sharing a plate of pasta since it was almost bedtime and neither of you weren't that hungry. “Good, right?” he questions the moment you shut your eyes about the delicious taste. You hum. 
“Free orgasm right here.”
Choking on his food, he quickly takes a sip of water as you smack his back. “I think I’m good now,” he squeaks as you smile timidly. You can feel the way he judges you as you devour your fair share, but you can’t help it. Connecting your gaze to his, he looks away as he drops his fork against the fancy plate. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”
“Oh. Yeah, no problem.”
The brunette chews on his bottom lip. “It was nice getting to know you, really.” You blink back dazed as he continues. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip.”
“You’re leaving?” Even your inquiry shocks you as he smiles back warmly. I don’t want to interrupt. You’re looking for peace, remember? Trying to think of a quick enough excuse, you say, “Having someone to keep me company doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. I-I mean if you’re not busy.”
Under the table, you were crossing your fingers as he took in your offer. The brunette nods. “I guess it could be fun.”
-
“You did the right thing,” Amelia congratulates you the next time you call her. “Rather be safe than sorry.” 
Just then, Charles walks in with a bag of peaches, grinning proudly as he makes his way over. “Agreed. Listen Amelia, I have to go. Adventure awaits! Tell Roman that I miss him! Talk to you later!” Hanging up, you greet your roommate. Awkwardly, he passes you the juicy fruit. 
“Friend back home?” You hum, biting down. Taking a bite of his own, he bows his head. “You miss your boyfriend?” You stop chewing.
“Boyfriend? Oh, you mean Roman?” He clenches his jaw, then relaxes. You cackle loudly. “He’s my best friend's boyfriend,” you clarify. “We’re close - all of us.” 
“Oh.” Tossing the seed away, he rises up to his full height. “Wanna see something cool?”
-
“You got insurance?” you joke as he covers your eyes, leading you mysteriously. You’re not going to get hurt or die if that’s what you’re worried about. You giggle. Okay, we’re here. Removing his hands, you take a minute to adjust your eyesight. “What the fu-”
“Cool, right?”
You scoff. “Cool? This is beautiful.” Running over to the cherry red Ferrari, you reach out before turning back to the 26 year old. He nods. Delicately, you brush your hand against the leather seats. “Where did you get this?” 
“I know a guy.”
“Mafia leader?” 
“Ha-ha,” he mocks as he unlocks it, going in to open the door. “Hop in.”
Humid wind sends your hair flying as you let out loud shrieks from the speed. You don’t know how he found such an isolated spot, but you don’t ask questions with how much you enjoy the thrill. “Again, again!” you cheer as he does professional donuts. The car comes to a halt as you fling forward and he stays as straight as can be. 
“How about I teach you?”
“Okay, put the car in gear.” Following instructions, you listen attentively. “Turn the wheel and floor it, but make sure to be alert and keep your foot on the brake just in case.” Swinging harshly, you let out a scream. “It’s okay, try again.”
After a while, you still couldn’t get it down and your frustration was starting to show. But he was patient, spilling out different versions of advice. Twist sharply. Biting on your bottom lip, you huff before trying again. His words circle your mind as you drive the Ferrari straight ahead before turning the wheel and pressing down on the gas. Your adrenaline picks up when you realize what you had just done.
“That was perfect!” Raising his hand out for a high five, you squeal as you smack it hard. He hisses, but you’re on a roll. 
“Hold on, Charles, you're in for a ride.”
Though his car is moving fast, the Monegasque feels as if he’s stuck in slow motion as he admires the way you control the Ferrari. He'd be lying if he said he didn’t find any of this attractive. It took you a while, sure, but your determination got to him as he kept his eyes trained on you, peeking over at you where you sat mumbling the steps over and over. Arms maneuvering the wheel flawlessly, knotted hair fanning your face. Stepping on the break, he barely has a moment to react before he slams right onto the dashboard. You wince.
“I should have warned you, crap! But you were doing so good! Your head would not move an inch.” Admiration paints your voice. Embarrassed, he rubs his temple.
“I got a bit distracted, but I’m fine.”
“Okay,” you mumble skeptically. Honking the prancing horse, you turn to him with a Cheshire Cat grin. “How about a drink, professor? My treat.”
-
“What’s the occasion?” the bartender asks as he fills two glasses of whiskey. I can do donuts now, you brag. His brows raise up in shock. “That’s impressive. It takes a good person to teach you.”
“It does, but lucky for me, I got it.” Discreetly you point over at Charles who sits with yet another baseball hat. “He’s pretty great.” The man's face drops as he leans against the table, getting closer to you.
“I’d say so! That’s Charles Leclerc.” Flabbergasted as to how he knows his name, you take the two drinks and raise them up as a silent thank you. “Free drinks on me if you need anymore, amore!”
On the way back to the small table, you ponder on the weird encounter. Had they met before? Perhaps Charles had fixed his car or something along the lines. Grazie, the Monegasque smiles as he takes a sip of the cool drink. You do the same, wide eyes shining at the taste. “Holy crap, this is good.” Swallowing the rest of the golden liquid, you signal at the bartender for the rest of the bottle. Nodding, he brings it over as Charles lowers his head, green eyes trained on his lap.
“It’s somehow sweet,” you narrate as you serve yourself another. “More?” He shakes his head, wavy hair following his movement. It’s the Italian charm. You hum against your cup. “Must be. Tastes like paradise.”
It’s safe to say that you were obsessed the minute you started growing tipsy. Squinting at the squawking girl who was pouring her heart out on the stage, microphone in hand, you snap your fingers loudly, jumping up. That. I want to do that! Your travel buddy chuckles. “You do?” 
“Of course I do. Plus, my voice is all warmed up.” Massaging your throat, you march over at the little old lady who plays the tarnished piano. “Potrei cantare dopo?” She nods kindly before wrapping up the song. I have another one in me, the girl yelps as her friends pull her off stage. 
“Oh great, a drunk removed for another drunk,” someone shouts out when you stumble on stage. 
“Hey. Blame the delicious drinks!” Flipping through the book, you narrow your eyes. “This one,” you cheer excitedly as you whisper into her ear. She beams. No one ever asks for that one! Practicing against the keys, she nods as you twirl your way back on stage. 
All eyes are on you as you play with the hem of your mini dress. Normally, you’d be a nervous wreck, and maybe the liquor helped, but you weren’t afraid of making a fool out of yourself. 
“You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere. Maybe we make a deal, maybe together we can get somewhere.” Soft keys echo through the small bar - for sure a guitar would have been better, but something about the familiar instrument makes Charles feel cozy as he listens to your voice. It isn’t perfect - you were drunk after all - but it was enough to make everyone listen closely like you were some divine object. 
Swaying, with you smiling sheepishly as you move your eyes through the crowd of strangers, and you’re glad the green eyed boy isn’t one of them. Is it fast enough so we can fly away? The brunette  grins at you as you spin in your dress, ponytail fluttering like grass in the gentle breeze. 
“So I remember we were driving, driving in your car. Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk. City lights lay out before us, and your arm felt nice wrapped ‘round my shoulder.”
There is some sort of unexplainable shift inside of you as you feel yourself sober up with his intense stare. His brows are drawn softly, listening to your sweet voice, as if you would disintegrate and never be seen or heard of again. A click - you just clicked.
“And I had a feeling that I belonged. I had a feeling I could be someone.”
-
Kicking the door wide open, Charles carries you in as he settles you on the bed. You flop around like a fish out their tank for good measure, then pout, bare feet pressing up against his clothed abs. He halts. “I need to change…take off all my makeup...” All of it, you mouth, droopy eyes struggling to stay open. 
“I can get you what you need.” Last time he dug through a girl's suitcase, on a mission to find all her essentials, he had a girlfriend. Pushing away his thoughts, he jogs back over to your limp body. “Okay, here you-” 
Curled up like a rolly polly, you breath gently as you sleep. The 26 year old isn’t too surprised, but rather confused. Does he just leave you now? Pacing the room, he nibbled down on his nails as he weighed his options. He could let you sleep peacefully and possibly get a beating in the morning for leaving you to rot with all the nastiness or he could get it done quick - not look twice - and maybe still get a beating.
“I’ll be fast,” he mutters to himself as he grabs your makeup wipes. He tries to be as ginger about it, a cool towel erasing your light makeup. As soon as you scrunch your face up like a baby rabbit, he stops and rushes away. Good enough.
Now comes the complicated part. Slip the dress off, change her into her jammies. Easy peasy. But the more he thinks about it, the more he’s unsure. One night with your outside clothes won’t kill you. 
“Take it off, Charles, please,” you grumble as you tug on your dress. His Adam's Apple bobs up and down with panic as he nods to himself. Green eyes flicker the room before they land on his t-shirt. Oversized - would cover you whole - fast. 
As if he’s being chased down by the police, he runs over and in a quick motion, slides your dress off before tugging his shirt over your head, dropping your passed out body onto the bed and throwing the duvets over you. Grazie, you murmur from underneath as he sighs.
“Don’t mention it.”
-
“Fucking hell,” you groan, clearly feeling the awful hangover. After promising to never drink again, you rub your eyes as you yawn, focus becoming drawn to the black shirt. Your stomach drops. No, no, no. Hurrying to look for your phone, you quickly unlock it before freezing.
Who is Charlz Leclerk? You can’t even recall when you must've searched this up, but Google definitely understood your investigation.
"Tell me, Nico," you pout as you take a sip of your whiskey as you wait for Charles to come out of the bathroom. "How do you know my friend's name?"
He beams excitedly. “Amore! He’s…” Blinking harshly, you try your best to listen and read his lips as he makes funny hand gestures. For a second, you swore he was swerving an invisible car. Waving his hand, he laughs. "Look him up."
Monegasque racing driver; Formula One; Currently racing for Scuderia Ferrari. 
“What?” you whisper as you throw your phone away, eyeing it like the plague. No. Charles was a mechanic - a mechanic, for god sakes. 
“Oh good, you’re awake.” He tosses you a paper bag. “It’s a sandwich. Eat.”
How can he even look at you and act like everything is okay? Did he do anything wrong? No, not really, but why would he keep this from you? You’re surprised to find yourself feeling hurt by his secretive actions as he stares back innocently. 
“Is it not good?” he questions when you chomp down sadly. It is, you reassure with a mouthful. “Hey, I was thinking we could go for a swim. The weather is nice out.”
“Mhmm,” you respond meekly. “Is it okay if I meet you there? I-I was thinking I could rinse my body first.” 
The brunette nods. “I can wait for you.”
“No!” You blush at your eager tone. “We’ll just meet up.” Okay? Grabbing his things and yours, he strolls out the door, but not before gifting you a small wink. Call me if you get lost. “Asshole!” you cry out as he chuckles, slamming the door behind him.
In a matter of seconds, you’re already dialing work. “Lucy! Is Eleanor there?” Sweetheart, how are you? How’s the leg? The arm? Do you need me to- “I’m fine. Can you connect me to Eleanor, it’s urgent.” The older lady giggles as she switches you over. 
“This better be good.”
Clearing your throat, you fiddle with the hem of his shirt. “I have an exclusive.” 
Eleanor’s rich and elegant voice scoffs. “What about your arm?”
“Like you said,” you hum. “I still got my right one."
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hunnylagoon · 3 months
Text
Right Where You Left Me
Pt 4: The Sweetest Thing to Ever Scare You (Finale)
Ellie Williams x reader
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I remember when I first saw you. I remember looking into your warm almond eyes and feeling butterflies in my stomach. But soon, when I looked into your eyes, I no longer felt the same warmth that I once knew. It felt as though you had killed all of the butterflies inside my stomach but yet, I still loved you.
Premise: You and Ellie are childhood best friends until you drift apart. Funny thing about soulmates is they tend to find their way back to each other. You and Ellie try to end the tireless war between you.
Warnings: Angst / drinking / violence / not really religious mentions in this one
Part one here!
Part two here!
Part three over here!
Guys I thought I posted this two days ago but I actually just saved it to drafts. Sorry for being an idiot lmao
I think that I have unlearned how to love.
That’s not even a word but there is no other way to tell you that I have turned myself cold.
Without partying to distract me and religion to fill in gaps of emptiness, I isolate myself and begin to write once again. I'm almost certain that my body has been telling me to write, that I need to pour myself into art as opposed to a girl I was friends with a million years ago.
I figure that I need to create rather than destroy but it might take me a while to do so.
The morning after I abandoned my faith on the church floor, I had woken up and expected Ellie to be gone, however, she was wide awake and playing subway surfers on her phone. Her hair is messy and her eyes are half-lidded. 
She turns to look at me when she feels the shuffling of the bedsheets; despite her doing nothing more than smile at me it is like an understanding passed between us, war is over.
Almost.
It's like I've forgotten how to be soft, I can't manage to get the words out that I need to, and the thought of it alone makes me cringe. "Breakfast?" I ask, unsure of what else to say.
Ellie passes on it and I awkwardly excuse myself, saying that I got called in to take a brunch shift at work. Of course, this is not true. What I do is get into my car and drive and drive until I get mad at myself for burning gas. 
The war between Ellie and I had ended but it didn't register in my head, I almost fell in love with it. Without the constant arguing and passive aggressiveness, there was nothing to put a wall between us and I wasn't ready to be vulnerable again. 
So I begin to feed Ellie the ugliest parts of me; I show her everything I'm sure she will hate but she doesn't, she's patient and shows me the kindness I have been looking everywhere for. Still, I am cold to her, I don't know what else to do. 
I try to push her away all over again but this time, she doesn't let me. Ellie comes into my room when I'm studying to sit on my bed so that she can be in proximity to me. Sometimes she'll ask me if I want to go for a walk or a late-night gas station run, all of the things we used to do.
When I'm angry at her, she lets it happen, she won't escalate the fight all she does is apologize and does what she can to fix it. Everything feels like it's in order again, Joel even starts to send me little text messages to check in on me and sends me Facebook memes that make him think of me.
As of now, we are setting up for Dina's twenty-first birthday. The living room, typically a space for casual gatherings and movie nights, had undergone a transformation. Vibrant streamers adorned the walls, and an array of balloons in assorted hues scattered themselves along the floor "Are balloons too childish?" Abby asks as she walks out of her bedroom.
"They better not be after I just spent half an hour doing all of these," Cat answers, giving her a scornful glare.
"They look great, Cat," I smile and give her a thumbs-up from where I am in the kitchen dumping bags of chips into bowls. "Should I make a veggie platter?"
Cat furrows her eyebrows "If you can finish it by yourself, sure."
"Cat, we aren't children, adults eat vegetables," Abby takes a seat on the couch behind Cat, investigating the hard work she's put into making the living room look nice for just one night "Isn't it weird that Dina is organizing her own surprise party?"
I shrug, placing a wooden cutting board down on the kitchen counter "I don't blame her, I don't think we've always been one hundred percent reliable, me specifically."
"But it's not a surprise if she knows about it."
"So?" Cat asks.
"So why are we calling it a surprise party if it isn't a surprise?"
"Why not?"
"Well, why can't we just call it a party?"
"I don't think it matters," I cut in, I begin to peel carrots and slice them up into quarters. Ellie comes out of her bedroom, she took a nap after completing her physics presentation, her hair in a messy bun, and she's in her typical pyjama uniform of sweats and a hoodie. "Hey, Ellie," I smile at her.
She rubs some sleep away from her green eyes "Hey," Ellie walks over to the kitchen island where I slice and chop vegetables and sits right in front of me. Even half asleep she looks like a statue of marble carved by a skilled hand.
Abby raises an eyebrow, asking 'When did you guys become friends?' without saying it and then it hits me like the plane in Lost. Ellie still hasn't told anyone about our history, our sixteen years of friendship is invisible to the eyes of those who think they know us well.
I'm broken from my thoughts when Abby speaks up "When are you picking up the cake?"
My heart drops "I'm not?"
Cat and Abby cast one another side glances while Ellie snatches a cucumber off my cutting board "Dina was handing out duties and you said you would take care of the cake."
I freeze, unsure of what to say "Nuh-uh." I shake my head like a child denying blame for breaking her mother's favourite dish.
"Yuh-huh," Cat shoots back. "How could you forget that?"
My mind fumbles for an excuse and somehow I land on "I forgot because I went temporarily insane from Lyme disease," What am I saying? "I got Lyme disease because I go camping in secret," I don't camp "And I never told you guys that I go camping because I'm deeply ashamed of it."
Now everyone looks perpetually confused, Ellie included "What are you talking about?" Abby asks, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Okay-well," I place my knife flat on the counter by the wooden cutting board, ignoring the odd spiel I just went on "I'm going to drive to-
"You dropped your car off for a suspension repair yesterday," Abby reminds me.
"Ellie is going to drive me to get a cake," I correct myself "I will be back to finish making my veggie plate." I quickly rinse my hands before grabbing Ellie's keys from the little jewelry dish on the island and yank the sleeve of her hoodie to pull her along.
Ellie doesn't say anything, she slips into some Crocs and we walk outside to her car. "Where are we headed?"
"Uh, hang on," In Ellie's passenger seat, I go on Google Maps to look up the closest bakeries that are still open at this hour, there are two, one a couple of streets away and the other one is across town and closing in twenty minutes. "Infectious Confections," I wrinkle my nose "That's a weird fucking name."
While Ellie tries to make conversation in the car I only speak when giving her directions to the bakery. She knows something is up and I can tell by the way she keeps glancing at me. I just can't manage to get it out of my head that she's still keeping me a secret. 
She pulls up to the bakery and I get out before she even turns her car off, she pulls the keys out of the ignition and trails behind me through the doors.
The bakery itself was rustic and clean, there were two display cases and tills one of the displays held danishes, croissants, cookies, scones and whatever those little swirly flakey things are called. The other display had a big chalk menu above it that read 'Cakery' Though what was in the display case was very sparse.  
"Hi," I walk up to the till, putting on the friendly smile and customer service voice that I usually only use at work. "This is pretty short notice but I was wondering if you had any cakes left or if I could get one made for today?"
The guy behind the counter is a scrawny teenager who looks like he has had a long enough day of dealing with annoying customers "We close in half an hour, there's not enough time to bake and decorate a cake." He explains it like he's said this to a million people, he's bored of the same phrases that his manager has scripted out for him.
"Any shot that someone didn't pick up their cake?" I ask, fingers crossed in the hope that he says yes.
"Let me talk to my manager," His voice drags on, and he turns around and disappears through a commercial kitchen door. I wait patiently, hands balled together in front of me as I rock back and forth on my heels. A minute or two later he comes back holding a bright blue cake with pink detailing of bows and mustaches, there's text on it that reads 'It's a...' gender reveal cake. "This is all we have left, they cancelled last minute.
I look back at Ellie to get her opinion, her eyebrows are furrowed slightly "Maybe we good just get some of those cupcakes and smush them together and smear the icing so it looks like a cake."
I wave her off "I'll buy it," I say this only because it is 5:41 and with each passing minute I am growing desperate, also I don't want Jesse to be disappointed that I fumbled the cake and ruined his girlfriend's birthday.
Angsty teenager puts the bright blue monstrosity into a cake box and charges me an absurd total for it, I bitterly tap my card on the machine. 
As I walk back out to Ellie's car I take a brief moment to look at the sky, it's the same hue as cotton candy and looks as if it had been projected from a watercolour painting, even after I get back into the car and Ellie begins to blast her old dad rock songs, I can't tear my eyes away from it.
After five minutes of silence from my end, Ellie finally asks the question that's been burning into the forefront of her brain "Why are you being weird?"
"Why haven't you told anyone that we met before we moved in together?"
Her dark eyebrows furrow "You haven't told anyone either-
"Yes, I have."
"Who?"
"Yara, Stacy, Kayla, Mitch, Nigel, Carmen, literally everyone from my work," I admit "I just haven't told people who know you personally so it can't make its way back to you because you clearly don't want people to know."
She falls silent, searching her mind for the right words. She clutches the steering wheel tight and looks dead ahead at the car's bumper-to-bumper ahead of us. "I just know how to slip it into conversation."
"I don't think it's that hard, you can just say that we were friends, you don't need to give an intricate play-by-play of everything that happened."
"Why is it important that people know if we're cool again?"
I turn my head to slowly look at her "You are the one who always said 'If we don't have honesty, we have nothing at all'," I point out.
Silence strings between us again, I almost want to throw up.
'We're cool again' Nope, not anymore, we are so very far from cool. Instead of Ellie casting me little glances as she had on the ride there, she ignores my presence almost completely while I glare daggers at her. Was she embarrassed by me? When we went to lunch together why did she lie to Dina about where she was? When she slept in my bed why did Cat ask me if I knew why Ellie came home at eight AM with nothing, not even a key? Did she crawl through my bedroom window to walk around to the front door and pretend she was just getting home?
AND WHY DIDN'T I CALL HER OUT?
She was keeping me a secret and that realization hurt worse than any injury I had ever suffered. She hasn't even told her dead who practically raised me that we lived together. 
God, we weren't even anything and she was keeping me under wraps like I was some disgraceful secret that she would get shamed for holding. The very second she approached our house, I got out of her car, she hadn't even stopped it completely but cake in hand, I hopped out of her car door and didn't look back.
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I think I've had my fair share of partying.
After that month-long bender I had where I went to clubs every night and replaced food with vodka, I never wanted to even look at another solo cup full of liquor. Instead of drinking, smoking, or doing karaoke, I hide from Ellie.
I hide from her in conversations and sometimes sneak into my bedroom just to get a bit of breathing room from all of the strangers in my house. Wherever Ellie was, I was not. If she was outside, I was inside, if she was in the living room, I was in the kitchen enjoying my veggie platter. 
Have you ever been the only sober person around in a group of people? If the answer is no, have you ever babysat a houseful of toddlers? Because it's just about the same thing.
When I'm not hiding from the girl who wriggled her way back into my good graces just to trip herself off the podium, I'm cleaning up, protecting our furniture, holding back hair as girls I've never met sob into the toilet, and stopping the drunk from doing stupid things. 
"Hey, buddy," I take my can of hairspray that this frat-adjacent man is holding behind an ignited lighter "I don't think you would look good as a burn victim," His friends moan in disappointment as I do so, they were very excited to see a makeshift flamethrower; I wasn't in the mood to have my house burn down, or have a guy with peach fuzz waste my thirty dollar hair spray. 
Thirty dollars?
Note to self for later: Make smarter spending choices (And smarter relationship choices!).
I felt a tap on my shoulder only to turn around and see Dina, she wasn't drunk, just tipsy "Smile!" She holds up a camera to her eye and clicks the shudder button before I even have a chance to react the flash goes off. A large Polaroid begins to print out, Dina snatches it and shakes it until you can see my silhouette, my eyes are wide, my hair flying behind me from the quick turn of my head and I'm holding a can of hairspray angled to look like I'm going to spray the camera with it "Cute!" She smiles, tucking it into her pocket for later "Wait, I want a group picture of the roommates."
Dina takes my hand and pulls me to one of the couches where Ellie and Abby sit with some guy, she shoes him to get up and drags Cat over to replace him, she stands me in between Ellie and Abby and lightly pushes me down to sit wedged between the two.
"Jesse, please do not do me dirty with this picture," She hands the pink Polaroid camera to her boyfriend and quickly ushers herself to the far left of the couch where she bends over to kiss Cat on the cheek for the picture. Ellie and I are stiff and awkward when the flash goes off. 
After the picture is taken, Ellue turns to face me just the slightest "Hey, I think we should talk-
"I think it's time for cake!" I push myself off the couch and usher myself to the kitchen. 
I pull the cake out of the fridge, looking at what I had done to salvage it; Below the part that said 'It's a...' I wrote '21 year old!' in chocolate pre-made Betty Crocker icing that I had in the fridge for months, it didn't look the best, but it could've been worse.
Dina, of course, cackles when she sees it. To her, it is the funniest thing she's seen all night. I stick the candles in and light it with the light I confiscated from peach fuzz frat boy and push the cake towards Dina after tucking the light back into my pocket, she is illuminated in the glow of iPhone flash all filming her.
"Make a wish!"
Age Sixteen- Grade 11
I think back to how embarrassing it felt to be thoughtful.
How fragile I felt when I would share my feelings and how frail I seem when I do it now. Ellie was always tougher than I was, in rugby, in fights, just in general. That's why I figured she would be taking it better than me when I cut contact, once again I have been proven wrong.
"Conner, can we please just leave?" I pleaded with my then-boyfriend. The night had started fine but after a couple of drinks Ellie and I were becoming increasingly hostile to one another, it wasn't my intention to speak to her but the universe forced my hand when we were shoved into a circle of our friends and made to converse around the bonfire at the beach.
The salty breeze carried the sounds of laughter and the gentle crashing of waves, the scent of roasted marshmallows wafted through the air.
 "What, you need your boyfriend's permission or something?" Ellie held a can of berry blast Smirnoff, staring into my soul from the other side of the fire, the sparks glitter through the night like fireflies. Her words don't feel too bad but they don't feel too good either.
I cast her a glare before I looked back to my boyfriend "Please?" 
He is getting perpetually annoyed with me he shrugs away from my grasp, "Fuck off, we just got here," He mutters, Conner must think I couldn't hear it. He had already downed three Bud lights and a couple of shots of cheap vodka, now he is nursing another beer in hand. 
"Excuse me?" I say, narrowing my eyes. Everyone around the fire pauses their conversation to tune into mine. "Come on," I stand up and try to pull him along so we can have a conversation away from the prying eyes of our friends.
I can't pull the mass of the 6'2 quarterback along with me but he obliges and follows me where I yank him. As I drag him along the rest of the group giggle and makes jokes along the lines of 'Trouble in paradise' but Ellie is the only one who doesn't jump back into mindless conversation, her unnerving eyes are still on me while I chew my boyfriend out by the shoreline. 
"Why do I have to leave just because you're feeling a little bummed out?" 
I'm almost floored at out someone can lack so much empathy "Because you're my boyfriend?" I can feel myself tensing up.
"Why does that mean you can't get up and leave on your own?" He defends "You begged me to come here and now I just wanna down a couple of beers and hang out with my friends."
"You've already drank like twenty!" I retort.
"It's a fucking party!" Conner says, raising his voice "It's a party and it's summer and you're seriously trying to tell me not to have fun?"
"Fuck!" I shout in frustration "Why don't you ever call me? Why can't you ever let me in?" The argument is quickly escalating "Why didn't you tell me that you kissed Tamar and why haven't you told me that you love me?"
"Because I don't."
My words fail me. I knew he didn't, I knew that he hardly even liked me. My dad had thought so highly of him, she said he was the type of guy to rescue a baby from a burning building but as I look at him now, I figure that he eats babies.
I almost open my mouth to say something different, almost, but I don't. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I didn't, I might've been able to salvage the rotting corpse of my relationship with Ellie but I didn't. "Fine," I say, voice calm and quiet "Let's stay."
Before that night I had never really gotten drunk but the second I got back to the bonfire, I was digging through the cooler and shotgunning canned Smirnoff. "Woah," Riley laughs "Someone's finally being a bad influence."
I got myself so shit-faced that when everyone else got up to dance to the music blaring through the Bluetooth speaker, I sat by myself at the shoreline, looking bitterly out towards to ocean while the tides crash at my feet and get sucked back into the ocean. For a moment I think about jumping in and letting my lax body get washed away and sink beneath the surface until I wash up as a water-bloated corpse that some nine-year-old will find when they're beach combing.
My mouth tastes like peroxide and blood, my lungs burn with a red-hot pain. The wind is becoming increasingly harsh and I ignore the hair that is tangled into my golden hoop earrings.
"Wow, you look awful," I don't need to turn around to know who it is.
"Can you just fuck off?" I say "I don't give a shit about you, just leave me alone."
She always had to antagonize me, Ellie went out of her way to stray from the group and bother me. It had something to do with the alcohol in her system. Despite her alleged hatred for me, she takes a seat next to me regardless.
"Fuck, you're so sensitive," She scoffs "I don't know why you're dating him, I'm not even sure why you'd want to fuck him unless you're too lazy to jerk off-
My hands think before my head and I deck Ellie right in the side of her face, getting a solid hit to her cheekbone. My hand flies over my mouth "I'm sorry, I-
Ellie doesn't waste any time in lunging back at me, she pushes me down by my shoulders until my back is in the shallow of the water that moments ago just splashed at my feet and takes a swing. The impact of her punch almost knocks me sober.
I take a sharp inhale, grabbing her elbows and pulling her down to where she was the one on her back and I was the one straddling her. I land one last blow to her nose, I hear a crunch and the panic immediately sends me scrambling to my feet. My eyes go wide at the blood dripping down, her face I turn to run but Ellie is faster, she grabs me by my hair and yanks me down further into the water with her. 
"Fucking cunt!" I cry, though my scream is drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud tides crashing on the shore "Get the fuck off me!" 
Ellie is better at fighting than I am, I had never been on this side of her before, usually, I had been the one to drag her away from fights but now I am the one who is going to stumble home numb from the devastating pain.
Frankly, I'm fucking scared.
She continues to drag me by my hair until I'm knee-deep in the water with her, she almost throws her entire weight into me, dunking me beneath the surface where her bony hands snake around my neck. My eyes have gone blurry with the salt water, they sting and burn. I can't see anything, all I can do is uselessly thrash beneath her. My hands push against her face, trying to pry her off my body. 
Eventually, I manage to claw her face with my fingernails, I dig deep enough that it breaks skin and she recoils just enough for me to knee her in the stomach and let me get out from under her. Just as I try to slip away she reaches for my hair again, but instead of tugging on my hair, she rips out my gold hoop earring. I screech out in agony, hand reaching for where the metal sliced through the lobe of my ear, I shudder in pain; my cries are now jagged and harsh.
This is the exact moment Ellie begins to regret what she's done. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." Her tone softens and she tries to approach me but I back away from her like a frightened dog.
"Get away from me!" Despite the pain surging in my body, I find the strength in me to hit her again, she staggers back tripping into the water. I hit her so hard that I feel a crack in my knuckle and I yelp out in the immediate shock of pain. 
I wasn't sure when the others had noticed this was happening probably because my vision had gone blurry from salt water and adrenaline but before Ellie could hit me again, she was being restrained by Riley and Kennedy while some guy who I had probably had two conversations with dragged my back to shore.
I keel over on my hands and knees and begin to start retching onto the sand. Laila rubs a gentle hand on my back, my hair sticking wet on my forehead. A seagull, disturbed by the commotion, took flight, its wings cutting through the charged air. 
Next to the pile of vomit I just heaved, blood drips down from my ear, pooling and then soaking into the sand. My neck swells from what is still the raw sensation of Ellie closing her hands around it. 
I look up at Ellie, there is blood that has dripped its way into her mouth, clinging to her white teeth. She has what almost looks like a cat scratch running down her cheek, blood begins to prick and spill from the lacerations.
She stares back at me and we don't say a word but we understand each other clearly, I never want to see you again.
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"Let's go," Ellie grabs my arm as Dina begins to slice the cake "We're gonna fix this right now."
"Ellie, there are so many people here," I say in a hushed tone so people can't hear me.
"I don't mean here," She looks at me, face expressionless "Just get in my car."
"Excuse me?" I say, tone accusing "Did you just order me to get in your car?"
"Fuck," She sighs, dropping my wrist to rub her hands down her face "Please can you get in my car so we can work this through."
"There's nothing to work through," I retort "You're embarrassed by me or you still secretly hate me and that's fine, I meant what I said on winter break about the lease, the second it's up, I'm getting the fuck out of here."
"What? No, don't- just," She takes a breath, reevaluating what to say "I have a point to make but I can't make it unless you get in my car."
We stare at each other for a moment, I narrow my eyes and she is still unmoving. Every scenario runs through my head of what could be waiting for me in that car.
"Fine."
I sit silently in her passenger seat, my knees are pulled into my chest and I rest my chin on them. Ellie doesn't say anything either as she drives. I watch each traffic light pass me, every street name to try and make sense of where we are going.
I almost feel like I'm going to suffocate beneath the silence of everything going left unsaid.
When I spot the boardwalk up ahead, I know exactly where she's taking me "Ellie, why are we at the beach?" I give her a side glance "Do I need to take out my earrings?"
Heat rises to her cheeks when I say this, "Not yet," She jokes, getting out of her car and grabbing a tote bag from the back seat, and I follow in tow.
We walk past the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach, I'm already not feeling whatever she's doing; there is sand filling up my Converse and a slight wind chill, I'm really wishing I had a hoodie right now. "Can you tell me what we're doing yet?" I'm hugging myself in an attempt to stay warm "If we're still walking on the beach why couldn't we have just walked on the boardwalk instead? It literally has walk in the name." I'm already going off on one of my tangents.
She still walking ahead of me but she briefly turns around to face me "Can you just stop asking questions for a minute?"
"Okay, whatever," I mutter, trailing behind her still. I can hardly see in the night, the only light to guide us is the moon and the warm ceiling lamps from restaurants along the boardwalk. I can vaguely see Ellie's silhouette, she's outlined by the gentle glow radiating off the moon, I try my best not to stumble over things poking out of the sand that have been lost to sight by darkness. 
"Okay," Ellie stops, "Here we are."
"Where are we?" I ask "I can't see shit, I don't know where here is."
Ellie digs around in her pocket for her phone and turns on a flashlight and it reveals a small iron firepit that was cemented into a slab of concrete in the sand. She hands me her phone so I can keep the flash on her and she can see what she's doing. 
She pulls out some pages ripped out from her notebook "Can you hand me your lighter?"
My eyebrows furrowed, and I felt around in my pocket wondering if I even had one. I did, it had slipped my mind that I still had the bic lighter that I confiscated from Peach Fuzz. I hand the lighter to her and watch as she tucks the pages beneath logs that were in the firepit before we arrive, they are somewhat charred but still viable.
She flicks the lighter to ignite it and the paper catches immediately. The initial flicker grew into a tentative blaze, licking at the edges of the kindling. The crackling sound echoed through the night. 
Once she is sure the fire can survive without her feeding it, she steps away. "Alright, let's have it out."
"Like sex?" I scrunch up my nose.
"Oh my god, no, like let's talk this through." She pinches her nose bridge, taking a breath in before exhaling and putting her hand back down "We're gonna recreate the night of the bonfire how it should've been," Ellie reached back into her bag and pulled out two white claws "I snagged these from Dina's party, sorry this was kind of last minute."
I can't help the smile that grows on my face, I take one of the white claws and crack it open "I don't know how authentic this is gonna be if there isn't any canned Smirnoff."
I think back to exactly how that night played out and I take a seat on the sand, facing the crashing dark ocean. I sip my white claw, as expected Ellie takes a seat next to me, just what happened on the actual night.
"Wow," She says "You look really pretty and I'm an idiot for ever saying you looked awful," Ellie looks gorgeous illuminated by the orange light of the fire, and the breeze causes her flyaway hairs to drift in the wind. "I'm an asshole for pretending that I didn't know you, I was scared I would get hurt again and take it to heart like I did last time. I promise the second we get home that I'll come clean."
I don't know if I can deal with this sugary philosophy. She's being so sweet that it's rotting my teeth.
"Ellie," I say gathering my thoughts, it was so hard being honest with my feelings, it felt like I would get hospitalized if I showed any emotion. "I was so in love with you in high school that it killed me, and I was terrified that my parents would throw me out well, they did- but that's why I pushed you away and there isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret it." 
The surprise on her face morphs into a soft smile "What about now?" she asks "Do you still love me?"
I shrug, it's honest "I dunno, but I think there's room to try."
She looks from me to the ocean and the way the moonlight glitters off the surface "What happened next?" Ellie toys with the tab of her drink "Did you hit me?"
"Yeah," I say softly, following her gaze out to the waters "But if we're doing the night how it should've been, I'd rather just kiss you."
Ellie turns her head back to look at me. She shoves her white claw into the sand then takes my face into one of her hands and kisses me like it's her job, so tender and carefully like she's afraid I will break beneath pressure.
How weak have I become? My heart is so full of her that I can hardly call it my own.
A/N: Be grateful for this ending because I was very tempted to give you guys an unhappy one. Sorry that I forgot to post this lol, I’m sad this series is over but excited to show you all my next one which may be the angst-iest yet 👀
Thanks for reading!
Tag list: @elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell @fullmachinegirl @eveshyper @whosmica
502 notes · View notes
eimids · 6 months
Text
Tension
Leah Williamson x reader smut
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Reader is questioning her sexual identity, Leah’s here to help.
warnings: Smutt, first time
Words: 3.3k
Being a 24 year old virgin is hard. Myteamates at arsenal ask me about my sex life quite often but yeah no. Still a fucking virgin.
I just think I'm atill a virgin because I've been questioning my sexual identity forever. Now i'm thinking that I'm romantically attracted to men but I couldn't imagine having sex with a man. That is just a no. But I'm more sexually attracted to females. Although I could imagine being with a female romantically. So I guess that makes me bi? Pan?
I have had mixed feelings about my teammate Leah. She's really pretty and I can't help but glance at her every now and then. There's tension between us.
Sexual tension.
I have never really had anything like this. She's been flirting with me during training and one time we shared a room and I could see her staring at me when I got out of the shower. We have known each other only for 5 months since I moved to arsenal but we are actually gotten quite close.
Today Leah asked me to go to a bar with her. I felt excited but nervous at the same time.
I was running late. When I showered I decided to shave my body just in case anything happens. I had a huge problem with my clothes. I didn't want to be too fancy but I didn't want to look like a bum. I ran outside to my cab and climbed in.
I saw Leah standing next to the bar. She was looking around to see me. I wasn't really sure if other teammates would also be here or not.
Our eyes met and she smiled at me. She waved at me and I walked to her. She was wearing a gorgeous oversized blazer.
"Hi Leah" I said and smiled. I was leaning in for a hug but then I remembered that she really doesn't like hugs.
"Hi y/n. You look gorgeous" Leah said as she checked me out.
"So do you! What are you drinking" I asked and then added "wait don't say. Just ordered me the same that you are having. I'll go to the bathroom real quick" I said and left. Leah looked a little confused.
I was so nervous that I was feeling nauseous. 'Why am I so nervous, she's just a teammate' I thought to myself. I stayed in the bathroom for a while until I was feeling calmer.
"Sorry that you had to wait" I said when I walked back to Leah.
"It's fine y/n. So here is your drink" She said and pushed a drink towards me.
"Thank you. So is this a girl's night or is it just us tonight?" I asked. Still wondering if other teammates like Beth, McCabe and Less would show up.
"Today it's just us. I want to get to know you better since you are the newbie" She said and smirked.
"Hey don't call me that" I said sounding hurt. Of course with sarcasm.
"You are the newbie tho" She teased.
"Fine. But you said you wanted to get to know me. What do you have in mind?" I asked.
"Nothing special. Just want to get to know you. Like where did you grow up, why you decided to join Arsenal and do you have a boyfriend?" She said. I was little taken back by the boyfriend question.
"I grew up in Sweden and England. I moved a lot when I was younger, I wanted to join arsenal so I could get better at the best club. I do not have a boyfriend. Nor girlfriend" I answered her in one breath.
"Slow down y/n. We have all night to talk. Follow up question. Do you like girls?" She asked.
"Yeah I do. I've been questioning my sexuality for so long but yeah I like girls. I mean how can you not. But how about you" I answered.
"I'm lesbian" She said "and single" She added and winked. I blushed a little.
"Would you girls like to have anything else?" The bartender asked suddenly. I noticed that she was looking at me.
"I think we're good" I answered and smiled.
"Well if you need anything just let me know" She said and winked at me. She slid a card to me where was her phone number.
Leah had a weird look on her face. I couldn't figure out what it was until it hit me.
Jealousy.
Leah Wiliamson was jealous because some bartender was flirting with me. I was feeling quite special. From all girls in the world she chose me to go to a bar with.
Leah then put her hand on my knee. Her hand was going little higher as she drew some patterns to my knee. Butterflies filled my stomach again. How was this happening. A literal goddess next to me.
"Y/n I'm gonna be a little forward now" Leah said and I nodded.
"I really want you in my bed. Ever since you joined the team I haven't been able to take my eyes off of you. You are intoxicating. I have always just wanted to kiss you, to have you"
To have me.
I was really wondering if this was real. Leah fucking Wiliamsson telling me that she wants me.
"I... I want you t-too Leah" I said not so smoothly as I thought it would be.
"What about we get out of here?" Leah asked and stood up.
I nodded and she put her hand possessively on the small of my back. We walked to her car and she opened the door for me and then went to the other side of the car to get in.
The ride was full with tension. Neither of us said anything but Leah’s hand was on my upper thigh the whole ride.
I got lost in my thoughts. Suddenly the car stopped and Leah walked to my side of the car and opened the door. She helped me out from the car and we walked inside her apartment building. It was big fancy building.
Once we got to the elevator she pushed me against the wall and smashed our lips together. I kissed her back and we made out intensively in the elevator.
Once we got to the highest floor we entered Leah’s apartment. A fricking penthouse.
"Wow. This is-" i started but Leah closed the door and once again pushed me against the wall.
"Y/n I need to know that you are okay with this?" Leah said with her lips right next to my ear.
I nodded. Not getting any words out of my mouth.
"I need a verbal answer. Are you okay with this?" She asked again.
"Y..Yes Leah" I said and licked my lips.
"Good" She said and attached her lips back to mine.
We made out for a while until she moved her knee to my pussy. I don't know what she did but I let an embarrassing sound from my mouth. She chuckled at me and pulled away.
"Go to my room. I'll be there soon" She said and I started walking. Then I realized that I don't know where her room is in this huge apartment. I was turning around to ask but she said "Down the hall, the last room".
I continued walking to her room. I opened the door and then I was in the most gorgeous room that I have ever been.
I sat on the bed admiring Leah’s room. It was quite dark. There were led lights that brought some light. They were really bright white color. There was two doors on the other side of the room and the other side was just  big window.
I heard steps coming towards the room. My pulse quickened and I felt red creeping on my cheeks. Leah opened the door and walked in. She was now wearing only pants and bra and she was holding two glasses with maybe water in them.
"My god you are beautiful y/n. I can't wait to have you. You are so pretty sitting there. My good girl. You just do things to me. I can't act normal around you at prac" She started. She walked next to me and put her hand on my face and then carefully to my neck.
"Beth has been teasing me about you for months now. She has noticed that I'm different around you" She continued.
"No I'm finally having what I have wanted for months. You" She ended her sentence.
Leah wants me.
Then I began to panic a little. 'Do I need to tell Leah that I'm a virgin. What if I don't know what to do. What if Leah thinks that I'm gross down there' I thought to myself.
Leah obviously noticed me becoming tense.
"Hey what's wrong" She asked.
"Nothing. It's just I.." I started. Do I really have to tell her that I'm a virgin.
"Y/n It's okay. I want you to be comfortable today. I won't do anything you are even the slightest uncomfortable with" Leah said comforting.
"It's just that I...I'm a virgin" I said. The last part was barely a sound. It was so quiet but for my surprise Leah just smiled.
"Well that's even better. I get to be the first one to show you how good you can feel. I get to show you what your body is able to do" She said and started kissing my neck.
"Now tell me y/n, have you ever had an orgasm?" Leah asked. I flushed bright red. Even more red than I was before.
"No" I answered quietly.
"I love that. I get to be the first one to show you what an orgasm feels like. And don't be so embarrassed, it's okay y/n. Relax a little" Leah said. And kissed my lips softly.
"I think you are little too dressed for this occasion" Leah said and flipped me over. She unzipped my dress and carefully removed it from my body. She then flipped me back so I was looking at her.
"God you are beautiful y/n" She said and put her hand gently around my neck.
"Today I'm gonna make you feel things that you have never felt. I'm gonna make you come over and over again. But now you need an safe word. When you say the word I promise I will stop everything I'm doing. You can say it if something hurts or if things feel just uncomfortable. I want you to enjoy this night" Leah said.
"I don't know. What should it be?" I asked confused
"Well it can be anything. Something that you will remember" Leah answered. She was kissing my neck.
"Umm Rose? It has spikes and it's red so I associate it with danger usually. It's also my favorite flower" I answered I was starting to ramble but then I decided to try to touch Leah put she pinned my hands above my head.
"Rose it is. Whenever you say that I promise I'll stop what i'm doing. And please if anything is uncomfortable tell me. We can take things slower. But now you are being really inpatient, aren't you" Leah said and licked her lips.
"Please can I touch you Leah?" I asked.
"Not yet Princess" She answered and my heart fluttered and the nickname. Leah continued kissing me. She unclasped my bra and threw it away. She swirled her tongue around my nipple and I just moaned. I couldn't help the sound leaving my mouth.
"Mhmm don't stop Lee. It feels good" I said breathing heavily.
"You are already moaning and I have barely touched you" Leah said and sucked my nipple. The words that Leah said made me wetter than I already was.
"Lee please I need more" I asked pleading.
"I know you want more but I promise you will feel even better if we do this slowly" Leah said and then started kissing my stomach. She went lower and lower until she was at my panties.
"Is it okay if I take these off?" She asked and immediately answered yes.
She used only her mouth to take them off. She threw them somewhere and then kissed my inner thighs. I was feeling super needy and I wanted her already to fuck me already.
"Please Lee. Please just please" I begged.
"Is my girl needy. You want to know how my mouth feels on your clit and my fingers inside you?" She asked.
"Yes. I want you to fuck me. Please" I said. I was feeling so weird. Everything was too much but not enough at the same time.
"Oh god Lee” I yelled when I finally felt her mouth sucking on my clit. She swirled her tongue around it at the same time. Just that could have made me explode.
She then dipped one finger in me easily. She tested if I was wet enough and the she pushed another in me.
"God yes!!" I moaned loudly. My breathing became heavier as something started happening inside me.
Leah was going a slow pace with her first tongue. She flicked it on my clit before starting a faster pace. Her fingers slowly curling so they were touching more of my insides. Then they hit a spot that made my back arch and my body felt like it was on fire.
"Fuck Leah right there. YESS" I yelled but Leah slowed down her pace. She then stopped and straddled me again.
"Don't come until I tell you to" She said and I was about to protest and then her thigh touched my clit and I moaned.
Leah smiled as she was looking at me. She slowly started to move her body and I started to grind on her thigh. My mouth opened and moans left it.
I was so vulnerable for Leah. I just wanted to pleaseher and not come but I was so close. Leah was controlling me but in a good way.
"Please" I whined.
"Not yet y/n" She said and brought her hand to my cunt and pushed her fingers inside again.
She was going fast with her fingers and again she started flicking my clit. Then she curled her fingers against the same spot that already made my back arch.
"Leah, I-I need t..to come" I was shaking under her. The feeling was so strong.
"Now. Do it. Come for me Princess" Leah said and I let the most ungodly sound. I felt like my body was on fire as it shook. Leah’s fingers were still moving inside of me. I tried to control the shocks going through my body but all I could do was moan.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck.." I moaned as the white continued to cover my vision.
I cried out nonsense. My body was trembling with the overwhelming feeling. My pyssy was stretching and tightening around Leah’s fingers with every thrust.
Slowly I felt every movement stop. I could only hear Leah’s breathing and my own. My body felt numb but in the best way possible.
"Wow, that was... that was wow" I mumbled while panting.
Leah laughed a little. My body was still shaking.
"You were so good my princess. I know I keep telling you this but you are so incredibly beautiful. Especially when you come" Leah said and kiss my lips. It was more sensual, more gentle.
"Can- can I do that again?" I asked curiously.
"Yeah you can. I can make you come many more times but I bet you are really sensitive right now" She said and swiped my clit gently. I buckled my hips. My clit in fact was sensitive.
"But i wanna feel that again" I said pouting.
"Hmm I have an idea but I wanna know that you are 100% comfortable with it" Leah said and I nodded. Curious what she had in mind.
"I have a strap in that closet. Do you know what it is?" Leah asked and I nodded.
"What if we use that?" Leah suggested and once again I nodded.
"Princess give me a verbal answer" Leah said softly.
"Yes Lee, I want that" I needed something so badly I could have cried.
She then stood up and walked to the closet. She finally took her pants off and put the harnest on. She then walked back to me and layed next to me. She flipped me so I was on top of her next to the fake penis.
"Are you sure about this?" She asked
"100%. I promise" I answered.
"Good girl" Leah said and the praise made my heart beat faster. She grabbed lube from her nightstand and put it on the strap. It was now nice and slippery.
"Okay princess, Whenever you are ready" Leah said and put her hands in my hips.
I got on top of the strap and slowly started going down. Leah’s strong hands were supporting me as I slide down the dick. It was stretching me perfectly.
When it was fully in me tears started to form in my eyes because of the pleasure. I waited for a while to be comfortable and then I moved up slightly and then back down.
"Fuck. Lee, I feel so full. You are making me feel so full" I moaned.
"You are doing so good baby" Leah said and I moved my body against the dick. It hit so many good spots. She started to lift me slowly up and down on the strap.
I felt tears coming down from my eyes as I was slowly bouncing on the strap. Leah was praising me but I really couldn't hear them because I was so focused on chasing my orgasm.
I started to bounce faster and faster on the strap. Leah looked surprised at my pace.
"I- I-I'm gonna cum" I said and my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
I kept bouncing on the strap and I brought my hand to rub my clit. Everything was perfect. Everything felt so good but little overwhelming.
Then it happened again. My body started to shake uncontrollably and I felt like million little shocks were going trough my body. I came hard on the strap. I could feel liquid come out of me.
Leah’s hands supported me as I really couldn't control my body.
"Rose. Rose" I quickly said when everything was too much. Tears in my eyes.
Leah immediately flipped us over and took the strap out of me. My body still shook a little because it was still climaxing.
"You are okay princess" Leah said and took the harness off. She then took a blanket and covered our bodies with it. She wrapped her arms around me as I came from my high.
"Are you okay?" She asked?
"Yeah. It was just little too much but wow it felt good" I said and laughed.
"Thank you for telling me that it was enough. And I'm glad you enjoyed it" She said and smiled. I smiled back at her and quickly fell asleep on her arms.
"Wake up. We are here" I heard. I opened my eyes and I was in a car. The car was parked in front of a bar. I was in a cab. 'What is going on?' I thought until I realized.
It was all a dream.
——
This is actually a fic i have written some time ago but i decided to post it here.
475 notes · View notes
art · 2 years
Photo
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Creator Spotlight: @velinxi​
Hello! I’m Xiao Tong Kong, better known as “Velinxi.” I’m the creator of the webcomic Countdown to Countdown and have been doing freelance artwork since I was a teenager. I love telling stories with my illustrations! Tumblr was where I first got my start as an artist, specifically a small fandom artist as a hobby… and now I’m somehow here! When I’m not trying my best to stay awake in front of my tablets, I’m usually cooking, gaming, or sleeping. Sometimes all three, in my dreams.
Check out our interview with Velinxi below!
Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?
Yeah! I’ve basically been on track to become an artist since I was a child. I went to a middle school with an emphasis on arts and a high school specializing in it. I went to SVA briefly for computer arts but dropped out to pursue freelance and webcomics after my first year.
Over the years as an artist, what or who were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?
My biggest inspirations growing up were Yuumei and Shilin Huang, two titans on DeviantArt back in the day. They still inspire me today, but the list of inspirations has grown exponentially over the years, including artists, movies, entire art movements, etc.
What was your thought process behind the creation of your webcomic, Countdown to Countdown?
Well, Countdown to Countdown started as a passion project back when I was 15, in high school, and pretty depressed. I just wanted to draw whatever story I thought was cool, inspired by my favorite media at the time. There was a very loose beginning and outline, but I was truly just writing as I drew the story. That’s why I had to stop the comic in 2018 and restart from scratch the year after. Now, the story has a set story and a clear outline. It still has similar roots, characters, and themes of neglect, abuse, and escape—but I think the story is a lot easier to follow now. It’s got an artstyle I can actually keep up with in the long run. The origin of why CTC exists also remains the same: I simply wanted to make a story I wanted to read for myself. Which happens to be about two dumb boys with superpowers navigating a hostile world that wants them dead or caged—together.
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
Oh, all the time. It’s part of the process. Personally, though—I just have to draw through it. Every month on my Patreon, I have my patrons vote on a theme I have to draw by the end of the month, and I try my best to make it as interesting as possible. I draw quite a few—tens even, of doodles or compositions for each of these themes to try to make something that tells a story while still being aesthetically pleasing and clear. I think pushing myself like this helps with art block, really. I also do remember to take breaks and simply consume other media I like! It gets the inspiration juices flowing.
Advice you would give to an aspiring creator?
If you do one—your first webcomic should be a short, fun, messy thing. It’s not often you can get it right the first time, but you’ll certainly learn a lot through sheer experience. This goes for a lot of things in art, to be honest.
What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
3D Animation. I briefly learned it at SVA, and I think that’s enough of that tech for me. I accept that there are some things that are truly beautiful if done right, and I am too simple and lazy for it.
What is your goal for the rest of this year?
Get Countdown to Countdown book 2 finished! And live HAHA
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
@yuumei-art on Tumblr, still! They’ve been a huge inspiration for digital artists and storytellers online for years. I have no doubt that many digital artists of my generation have been influenced by them, and they’re still here, making beautiful art and stories. It’s a thing to behold.
Thanks for stopping by, Velinxi! If you haven’t seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. You can also follow her for more amazing art over at her Tumblr, @velinxi!
4K notes · View notes
eddiemunsons80sbaby · 29 days
Text
I Hate Myself for Loving You
Pairing: ReaderXEddieMunson
Request: i don't remember reading something like this before and i thought it might be nice. a smut where they suddenly start kissing rough during a big fight like in films/series? they might be fighting because of jealousy or something else and the fight is going really hard, (they don't hit each other) but maybe eddie is throwing things against the wall and breaking them and the reader is pushing him by the shoulders etc., with the intensity of the fight, something can be ignited and I thought it could be a really tough smut
Word Count: 3.3K
18+ Only
Smut, Rough sex, there is verbal fighting, name calling, and throwing of things but never violence at each other
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“Are you fucking serious right now Eddie!?” 
Your chest heaved, blood boiling in your veins, making you feel as if you were incinerating from the inside out. Was he really going to stand there and accuse you of this when he did it all the goddamn time, assuring you it meant nothing?
“I saw you, sweetheart! You were practically in his goddamn lap!”
“I was not! Jesus Christ! I was sitting on the stool next to him. We were just talking. I haven’t seen him since high school so he was asking what I’ve been up to.”
Eddie snorted, his eyes rolling up into his head. “Yeah. I’m so sure Billy Hargrove was real interested in a conversation and not your tits that were practically in his face, begging to be touched.”
The rage that was building within you had you trembling. It slithered like an ugly disease down your arm and into your hand. You grabbed the ashtray from the end table and chucked it at him. He ducked just in time as it smacked into the wall with force behind him. 
“What the fuck!?” he yelled, those brown doe eyes now dark with fury. “What is wrong with you?”
“You! You’re what’s wrong with me! I sit there every fucking time you have a show and watch while girls hang all over you! You smile and laugh and tease them! You make them think they have a shot with you! You pose for pictures and sign their fucking tits! You sit there like a king on your fucking throne, soaking it all up, loving being the rock star that all the groupies want a shot with! And you’re always telling me it means nothing! I have to just accept it if I’m with you! But I have one goddamn conversation with a guy…”
“He’s not just a guy! He’s your fucking ex!”
“Yeah! He is! Ex being the word that matters here! I’m not with him. I’m with you! I chose you and I keep choosing you but you never fucking choose me!”
His mouth dropped open, sounds of disbelief and disgust spluttering from him. He folded his arms across his lean chest, rising up to full height, towering over you. You didn’t flinch. You weren’t scared of him. Eddie could be a jerk but he would never lay a hand on you. 
“I choose you! I could have any of those fucking girls I want! They want to come home with me! They’ve heard I can show them one hell of a time and they practically beg me to show them! But I don’t because I have you!”
“Oh! Well so sorry you’re saddled with me! That can easily be fixed you know!”
“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean, princess?”
“You can leave anytime you want if this isn’t making you happy anymore! Yeah! You know what? Maybe you should! Then you can actually live out your sad small town rock star fantasy! You can bring a different whore home every night and show her what a good time you are.” You paused, tilting your head, hands on your hips. “But what fucking home will you bring her back to when you don’t have me to foot the bills so you can run off pretending you’re Tony Lommi?”
“We’re really going to do this again?”
“Do what again?”
“Bitch about me not pitching in enough around here! You knew what I was when you decided to be with me. You told me you were good with me working part time so I could focus on my music.”
“That was three fucking years ago! How long are you going to keep it up!?”
“You used to support me! You used to believe in me!”
Tears welled up in your eyes, only fueling your anger more, because you didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to show any sign of weakness. You didn’t want him to see how much his words had hit their mark, like an arrow hitting the bullseye. 
You had supported Eddie. You had supported him. You’d encouraged him to go for his dream but his dream was now killing both of you. You couldn’t take it. Night after night watching women throw themselves at him, watching him encourage it, eat it up, relish the attention. Working twelve hour shifts, dead on your feet, just to cover rent because Eddie couldn’t possibly take on more hours if he was going to get that new song finished.
“Yeah, I did, and you used to act like I mattered!” you spat. 
“You matter!”
“Do I? It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it! When’s the last time you spent any time with me that wasn’t in the fucking bed, Eddie? That’s all I’m good for anymore! You don’t want to watch a movie or go down to the lake like we used to! I’m nothing but a toy you bring out when you need to quench your urges and then you put me back on a fucking shelf!”
“Bullshit! I invited you to band practice last week and you said no!”
“Oh! Thanks so much for wanting me to be there! We both know you just want an audience! You want someone to worship you and tell you how amazing your music is. I’m your girlfriend Eddie! I’m not some fucking groupie who’s just there to fawn over you and spread my legs!”
“No? Well, you sure acted like one tonight with Hargrove!”
“Fuck you! Get the fuck out!”
“This is my apartment too!”
“The fuck it is! You don’t pay for shit and my name’s on the lease!”
“You seriously want me to leave?” he growled.
“Yes! I want you gone! I’m done! I’m not doing this shit anymore!”
“Oh! Oh! I see what this is. You gonna call your roid rage boy toy once I’m gone? What sweetheart? You saw that mullet again and just couldn’t help yourself? You going back to him?”
You should say it but you couldn’t help yourself. Not after week after week of questioning if Eddie wasn’t just giving all those girls attention. Not after nights staring at the clock, wondering if he was off with one of those groupies, temptation too much for him to handle. Not after the way he’d just assumed you’d be willing to do the same. Staring him down, you challenged, “And so what if I am?”
His arm shot out and you shrieked, flinching, your hands coming to either side of your head as a shield. The crash of broken glass shocked you to your core as he grabbed the nearest thing to him, the lamp, and threw it with all the force he had against the wall. 
You stared at him, silent, shocked as he glared down at you, chest heaving, each breath straining the fabric of the fitted shirt he’d started to wear ever since a groupie told him he should show off his body more. 
“You want to go to him! You’re gonna leave me for that piece of shit!” he raged, flinging magazines from the end table one by one, nowhere in your direction, just satisfying thunks against the wall that punctuated each word he spoke. “You think he’s gonna be better to you than me!” His hand snatched the little elephant that he’d bought you from the zoo, the tiny figure cracking as it made contact with the wall next. “You’re just gonna walk away!”
“You asshole!” you screamed, fists pummeling against his chest, shoving him backward. His hands wrapped around your wrists, holding you in place, keeping you from reaching him. 
“Stop it!” he yelled as you flailed like a feral animal to free yourself from his grip.
“I hate you!” you cried. “I fucking hate you!”
“Calm the fuck down!” he roared, pushing you back until he had you pinned against the wall, his weight pressing against you. “God, why do you have to be such a bitch!?”
“Probably because you’re such a dick!” you snap back, trying so hard to hold onto your anger but the awareness of his body, every inch of him now pressed against every inch of you, is making it harder to do. 
He rolls his hips, his erection pressing against your center, smirking when you gasp at the contact, “Yeah, but you like that dick, don’t you?”
“Go to hell,” you grind out through gritted teeth and when he drops his head to find your lips, you snap at him, going for the bite. He just chuckles, keeping hold of your wrists, bringing them to either side of your head against the wall. 
“You are such a pain in my ass.” He tries for the kiss and when you nip at him again, his lips latch onto your neck instead, sucking a bruise into your skin while he slots his thigh between yours. 
“You are…” 
But you never tell him what he is as he presses his thigh against your center, your traitorous hips rolling, seeking the friction he’s providing. His mouth moves over your neck, suckling the flesh in a semi-circular pattern until he reaches the other side. He’s marking you, a necklace for you to wear, to display that you’re taken, that you already belong to someone. Like a fucking dog in heat, he’s making sure that Billy Hargrove and any other unfortunate male who even glances your way knows you’re not available. 
You want to fight him. You want to be the badass bitch who pushes him off and walks away, stands your ground, but it just feels so goddamn good. His mouth on your skin, firm muscle grinding against you just where you need it, fingers pressing into your pulse points as he keeps you captive against the wall. 
“What was that, princess? I’m what?” he teases, fingers loosening their grip on your wrists, trailing over the sensitive flesh on the underside of your arms sending shivers racing up your spine. They brush over the outer curve of your breasts and your back arches, your body craving more, needing more but Eddie just steps back, holding his hands out in front of him. “There’s the door. If I’m such a dick, why don’t you head out right now and find your little boytoy?”
Your teeth grind together, that anger that you’d forgotten in the haze that was desire raging back, the two warring with each other, a battle that was about to lead to epic destruction. 
“You bastard…” you mutter, shoving him backward, his body moving barely an inch. “I despise every fucking thing about you.”
One eyebrow lifts, taunting, his tongue slipping out of the corner of his mouth, tracing over his bottom lip. Your eyes watch, a clenching between your thighs as that backstabbing bitch aches for what she knows that tongue can do. 
“I hate you…you’re…you’re…”
“Yes? I’m listening.” He cups his hand to his ear, egging you on, brown eyes dancing with amusement as how vexed he’s gotten you. 
A roar of frustration rips from your throat, your hands slamming into his chest, sending him almost toppling over the coffee table. His arms flail for a second before he drops to his ass, hard, just managing to keep himself sitting. He barely has time to look up at you before you’re climbing onto his lap, your fingers sliding roughly into his hair, grabbing a fistful, painfully pulling his head back, relishing the way he winces. 
“Fuck, princess. Careful with the hair.”
“Shut up,” you order, your tongue tracing down his neck, his wince quickly turning into a groan. You sink your teeth into the flesh between his neck and shoulder and he grunts, grabbing onto your hips, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to bruise. 
You rock against him, seeking the relief, the pressure building within you, winds of anger and lust meeting to create a tempest that was about to sweep you both away. Lips, teeth, and tongues clash in a war of biting, sucking, and scraping that has your thighs shaking, a coil tighter than you’ve ever felt before curling in your stomach, begging to spring free. 
Eddie’s hands grab onto your top, tearing it in half, the sound of the threads coming apart satisfying. He makes quick work of your bra and then his mouth descends, marking your flesh until you’re sure there won’t be an inch of you that isn’t bruised. Your hands find their way up his shirt, nails raking along his back when he clamps his teeth over your nipple, tugging at the tender peak, a pain that sends a rush of pleasure straight to where you keep rocking against him. 
“Fuck yes!” you cry, nails embedding into the skin of his shoulders, using him as leverage as you chase your own release against the bulge in his jeans. 
His hand clamps around your throat, pushing you back, away from what you want right at the moment you’re about to get it. The rage is back, awakened again by the audacity of this man to keep your orgasm from you. Your back drapes over his legs as he makes fresh marks over your stomach, his other hand slipping up your skirt. 
The soft Eddie, the one who glided calloused fingers over your trembling flesh, who teased you over top of your panties, who pressed tender kisses to your inner thighs, was nowhere to be found. Without warning, his thrust two of his thick fingers past the scrap of fabric and inside you, not giving one thought to if you were ready for him.
But you were. Holy shit, you were wetter than you’d ever been, inner thighs already sticky from the friction, the brutish way his mouth was marring your skin. You’d never been so turned on in your life and you didn’t know what that said about you and at this moment, with his fingers deep within your pussy, his heel grinding against your clit, his mouth suckling a fresh mark under your breast, you really didn’t care. 
“Not thinking about leaving now, are you, princess?” His hand came down, making contact with the side of your breast with a smack, your whole body jolting. 
You cried out, your hands dropping to the ground behind your head to keep you from spilling off his lap. Another finger pressed into you, stretching you, filling you and a sound you didn’t even recognize wrenched from your body as it clamped down around his fingers. His large palm grabbed your breast roughly, pulling at the overly sensitive skin, everything heightened in this moment, your entire body feeling like it flayed open, senses on max level. 
“Fuck!” you growled, your whole body quaking as it neared release and his palm lifted, fingers slipping out, leaving you feeling empty. 
“You don’t come until I tell you to.”
“What the fuck do you mean…”
But your words were cut off as he manhandled you, turning you over, your face pressed down into the carpet. Snatching off your underwear, he roughly palmed your thighs, spreading you wide until your entire front half was bent onto the floor. 
You heard the slide of his zipper. “You want this dick, don’t you?” he purred, leaning forward, his voice just over your shoulder. “Come on, princess. You want this dick, you gotta ask nicely. Say please.”
“Go fuck yourself,” you spat, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg. 
“Hmm…okay then…”
“You think I want that after so many groupies have had a turn on it,” you challenged, daring him to say it. To tell you that yeah, he’d been cheating on you for months. Letting you believe it was all just about keeping the fans happy so they’d keep coming back. “You think it’s so special? You can fucking keep it. I can find just as good elsewhere.”
You moved to get up and his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pushing you back down to the floor. 
“Nobody’s had a fucking turn but you,” he growled. “I’m a lot of things, sweetheart but a liar ain’t one of them. You are so goddamn stubborn, you know that? Sometimes I wonder why I even put up with you.”
“Then don’t!”
“Oh, I wish it were that simple. I’m fucking in love you, you idiot! You’re a pain in my ass and you drive me up the fucking wall but I love you and you love me and you fucking know it.” He slapped your ass, leaving a sting that had your pussy dripping all over again. “Now be a good girl and ask for my cock politely.”
Fuck. You hated how right he was. You hated how much you wanted him. You hated how hopelessly in love with him you were. You wished you had the strength to just get up and walk away but you didn’t. A throb between your thighs reminded you how much you needed this. Your body was going to make the decision for you. 
“Fuck me, Eddie,” you snarled.
“I’m sorry. What’s the magic word?”
“I hate you…I hate you so fucking much…”
“Nope. Sorry but that’s not it.”
“Please!” you screamed. “Please fuck me into this goddamn floor and let me come already!”
“That’s my good girl.”
His hips slammed forward, colliding against your own as he buried himself to the hilt within you. You groaned gutturally, your body a discrepancy of both relief and tension. He thrust into you at a brutal pace, your skin smacking together, loudly filling the small space. You had a fleeting thought about what the neighbors were hearing but it quickly dissipated as the only thing you could focus on was Eddie, stretching you, filling you, finally giving you what you needed. 
His hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you off the floor, pressing your back to his chest. Continuing to fill you, he gripped your neck, his other hand sliding over your stomach and in between your thighs. When he applied pressure to your clit, you keened, arching back against him. 
“This pussy is mine. You’re mine.” His teeth bit down into your shoulder. “You’re the only one that’s mine. You’re the only one I want. Do you understand that?”
You couldn’t answer. Your eyes rolled toward the heavens, muscles trembling violently. You had zero control. His grip around your throat tightened, a wheeze rising from your lungs as you attempted to suck in air that you couldn’t find. 
“I said, do you understand that?”
He slowly eased up pressure and you rasped out, “Yes. Yes. Yes…”
The word continued to fall from your lips, a mantra as the pressure that had been building within you finally reached its boiling point. You were standing at the precipice, looking at the drop…it was so damn close you could taste it. 
“Come for me now,” ordered Eddie. 
The band snapped, an explosion of sweltering heat racing along your skin, as your orgasm violently took over your body. Eddie kept his hand around your neck, not ceasing his unmerciful pounding, his flesh meeting yours with a ferocious collision every single time. His grip tightened as an animalistic roar assaulted your ears. 
Sweat slicked flesh slid against each other as the two of you collapsed into a heap on the floor. You lay next to him, panting, struggling to understand what the hell had just happened. How had you gone from being ready to kick him out to having the hottest sex of your life?
“I mean it. You’re the only one. I’ve never kissed or touched any of those girls. I’ve never even considered it,” he gasped. “Have you? Were you…considering Billy?”
“No…not really,” you managed, still unable to fully catch your breath.
“You love me?”
Your head turned, looking over at this idiot that somehow had such a hold on you. You couldn’t explain it but you also couldn’t deny it. Rolling your eyes, you shook your head.
“Yeah. I do. I love you even if you are a dick.”
“Good because I love you too, you pain in the ass.”
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angelltheninth · 8 months
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Gatekeeper for My Heart
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, gentle sex, repeated confessions, hair-pulling (for Steve), wearing his shirt, praise, friends to lovers
Word count: 1.2k
A/N: Why does friends to lovers with Steve make so much sense that I can't stop thinking about it?
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Someone always ended up hooking up at parties, it was like an unspoken law of going to them. You will meet someone and you will at the very least make out with them. At most you will end up on top or under or sideways of them in a bed, doesn't matter much whose and not remember them after.
This wasn't the case this time because even with all the alcohol in the world you couldn't forget Steve Harrington, your childhood friend, who was currently kissing his way up your naked stomach, the both of you giggling from the alcohol and butterflies in your stomach.
Steve was who you arrived at the party with but you never imagined he was gonna be the guy you were leaving with too. The first kiss was almost a joke, the both of you thinking it was the alcohol. Then you stopped drinking for a bit, had a few snacks, kissed again, and again, and again, there was some humping in the car, your hand on his hard cock while he drove, and then more kissing as you blindly stumbled into the bedroom and tossed away your clothes.
"Stop for a second." You pushed him away, still laughing.
"Yeah?" He asked with an unopened condom wrapper in his mouth, "You wanna stop? Did you change your mind?"
You laughed before you kissed him, easing his worries, "No, I just need to get something for myself." He had an adorable confused look on his face as you waltzed over to his shirt and pulled it over your head, "You know how much I like this one."
"Yeah cause you bought it for me." It was a gift from you, over five years ago. And he wore it often, so clearly he was very fond of it too. Or he wore it to make you happy, either explanation made you the happy one.
"You don't mind if I wear it do you?" You asked, already half-way to pulling it on. Steve's mouth feel open as he watched the fabric cover your breasts, the stiff peaks of your nipples clearly visible, "I'll take that as a no. Now where were we, pretty boy?" Steve shook his head and rolled the condom on, signaling that he was now ready for you. "You're hot when you're flustered."
"Not flustered really. Never thought I'd be having sex with one of my best friends. Or confessing to you." That was one part you had yet to address, your mutual confession, a drunken one then, now you were both s bit more sober. "I meant it, just so you know. The alcohol gave me the courage to say it for the first time but I don't want it to be the only time." Steve pulled you back to bed and wrapped his arms around your back, your faces close, eyes glistening, "I'm so in love with you. I've been in love with you for a year, I wanted to tell you for a year, and now I'm telling you, I'm in love with you."
It was different hearing those words from him. People said them before, even when you had sex with them, they never carried the same weight.
Steve already confessed to you, and you to him, you ad to make it even. "I'm in love with you. You were always there for me to cheer me up and drag me into your nonsense, life threatening mind you, but you also had my back. You're one of the sweetest men I've met, maybe the sweetest. I'm in love with you, Steve Harrington, head over heels in fact."
"I could make it heels over head if you want." His eyebrow wiggle was too cute to warrant an eyeroll. "But for tonight, I'd like to look at your face, if you don't mind." God, he was such a romantic too, you scored big time by falling in love with him.
"I don't mind, Steve." This kiss was much slower and softer then the others, no urgency, passion yes but it wasn't rough, there was pressure and hunger, but it was all so calculated, measured, your breathing slow at first and then a sharp inhale as Steve climbed in top of you, his body pushing between your legs, his cock rolling against your pussy. "Let me."
You watched his whole body stiffen when you took hold of his cock and aligned it perfectly with your pussyhole, "I don't know why I'm so nervous. Are you nervous?"
Given how fast your heart was beating, through his shirt almost, it was an easy guess. "Yeah. But it's you, so I know it's gonna be okay. I trust you."
Steve never gave you reason to do otherwise.
With a shared deep breath your bodies joined as one, his cock perfectly snug inside your pussy walls, a perfect fit if ever there was one. It was a single perfect moment, one in which you never broke eye contact, never stopped smiling even as he leaned down to kiss you.
His hands sought yours, intertwining your fingers with his as he began to move inside you, out all the way to the very tip and then easily back in, your bodies relaxing more with each thrust until it began to feel as easy and natural as breathing.
You couldn't wrap your mind around how it could feel this good, you wanted more of him, yet you had all of him right now, it wasn't enough yet. "I love you, I love you, no one ever made it feel this good, this special for me." Steve's cock twitched at your confession as well as your praise, "That's it, there."
"Here?" He smirked as he thrust with a little roll upwards, hitting your gspot, making you suck in air through your teeth, "You feel amazing. A perfect tightness for me. I think we're very compatible, you and I. A perfect fit, a perfect pair, sweetheart."
You smiled from ear to ear when you heard his affectionate nickname for you. You never wanted this night to end, you wanted to keep this moment lasting forever, you and Steve, loving each other, the echoes and mixes of your moans and skin slapping against skin looped until your body went still from the force of your orgasm.
"Need to throw this away real quick." Steve was reluctant to pull away too, but he had to throw away the condom in the trash. Luckily the separation only lasted a few seconds as he was already next to you by the time you finished stretching out your sore body. He threw a sheet over your legs but kept your upper half uncovered, you were already wearing his shirt after all, so you wouldn't be cold when he holds you close through the night. "I can't wait to do that again."
"You do realize we're gonna have a hell of a fucking headache when we wake up right? I'm not fucking you with a headache." The good news was there would be no awkward sneaking out because your feelings were mutual.
"Then you can stay over until it goes away. We'll make breakfast, take a shower, cuddle, make a date out of it. Not the most conventional one but I'll take any date with you." You snuggled against his chest , looking forward to your first date tomorrow.
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Out of the Spotlight (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
Summary: Garcia does a little totally harmless snooping and discovers Spencer’s secret girlfriend is a movie star.
Word Count: 3.2k
Notes: has it been almost two years since i posted on here? maybeee don’t worry about it. this is just pure fluff and some penelope/derek shenanigans
Masterlist
~~~
Penelope Garcia is, occasionally, too curious for her own good. She really doesn’t mean to snoop in her friend’s lives like this, but to be fair, she didn’t know she was snooping in Spencer’s life when she started. She thought she was just learning more about her most recent celebrity obsession; rising star and incredible actress, Y/N Y/L/N. She hadn’t even gone too far with it yet, really! It all started after she’d left the movie theater, where she finally got to see Y/N’s newest movie with Derek. He dropped her off at home, and she decided to follow the actress on instagram and scroll through some of her posts. Which is when she found one from three months ago that looked weirdly familiar. It was just a picture of some bookshelves, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. Then she saw that Y/N had tagged the location, and it was in D.C. The celebrity hadn’t given up the exact name of the bookstore; a slight annoyance for Penelope, but she knew it was probably just so Y/N would be able to visit the place again without a crowd of fans or paparazzi, so she’d let it slide this time. Penelope isn’t one to frequent bookstores, but she remembered Spencer had taken herself and JJ to a small bookshop when they had decided their new year's resolutions would be to read more often. Spencer kept trying to get them to read the classics, but both women were shopping the romance section, much to Spencer’s annoyance. So, she called an amused Derek back to her place so he could take her there.
“So we’re doing this because some actress may have been to the same bookstore three months ago?” He asked, driving with one hand as he talked to Penelope. 
“Well when you say it like that it sounds silly!” She said, still scrolling through the instagram page. “Besides, it’s not just that, a lot of these pictures are in Quantico! What’s a big name actress like her doing here?” Since the discovery of the bookshop picture, she’d found 3 more that were obviously in the city; a well known coffee shop, a mall Penelope has spent way too much money at, and a picture of a sign from the nearest highway. There were some others that she thought might be, but there was no definitive proof to be found.
“She probably just has family here, baby girl.”
“Um, do I look like an amateur to you, hot stuff? The first thing I looked for was her family, who are all happily living far, far, away, thank you very much.” The next picture she scrolled to gave her pause. It was a picture of a TV with a still from Y/N’s breakout show on it, but a coffee table, with someone’s sock-clad feet on it, was just barely visible. The socks were covered with the logo for her show. It was captioned “Will it ever stop being weird to see myself on TV?”
“Does this look familiar to you?” Penelope held the phone in Derek’s line of sight, causing him to swerve the car a little and push her hand out of the way.
“Do you think that could wait until I’m not driving?” Penelope just rolled her eyes, taking a screenshot of the picture for future reference. In just a few short minutes, they were pulling into the parking lot of the bookstore. Penelope rushed in, with Derek strolling behind her. She quickly found the spot that was featured in Y/N’s instagram post. 
“See! Told ya it was here!” She said, showing Derek the picture so he could compare it himself. 
“Yup, definitely it is the same place. I still don’t see why this is a big deal though.”
Penelope opened her mouth to argue with him, but was interrupted by the store’s owner; a little old lady. “Can I help you two find anything today?” 
“Oh, no ma’am. I just saw your store on my favorite actress’s instagram, and wanted to see it for myself.” Penelope explained, feeling a little bad for wasting the woman’s time. Maybe she’d find a book to buy, even though she’s not even finished with the last book she bought here.
“Oh! Miss Y/L/N, right? She and her boyfriend are around here all the time! What a nice little couple; her boyfriend is a little skinny though, I really need to make some cookies for him the next time they come by.” The woman explained, walking over to the wall of the store to point to a framed picture of herself and Y/N, signed and all. 
“She has a boyfriend?” Penelope asked, shocked that she hadn’t at least figured it out. In all her snooping of Y/N’s instagram, she hadn’t seen a hint of a boyfriend. 
“Oh, yes. They’ve been coming around for, goodness, six months now? They always buy each other books, it’s so adorable. He always buys her one of the classics, I think it was Romeo and Juliet last time. She usually gets a romance of some kind.” That made sense; the most recent picture on her instagram was one of two books; Romeo and Juliet, and The Duke and I. Eventually, Penelope and Derek made their way out of the bookstore, and that was the end of Penelope’s investigation of Y/N Y/L/N’s life.
Well, the end of Penelope’s investigation for that week.
It’s not like Penelope could track down Y/N Y/L/N’s secret boyfriend…not without seriously abusing her FBI database and maybe breaking a few privacy laws. She almost forgot about the trip to the bookstore, but during a rare case where she actually got to join the team on the jet, she noticed Spencer was reading something out of character. 
“Uh, Reid?” He looked up from the book he was reading.
“What’s up?” He said, quietly, as everyone else was sleeping after the long case.
“Why are you reading The Duke and I? I thought you were a total book snob?” She asked, sitting across from him.
“Oh, um,” Nothing could hide the slight blush that appeared on his face. “A friend of mine told me to read it.”
“Like a girlfriend?” Penelope teased, watching as his blush became even more noticeable.
“Y-yeah. Uh. Like a girlfriend.” Spencer opened the book back up, hiding behind its cover and promptly ending the conversation. He brought his feet up onto the small table in between them, causing his pants to ride up just enough to show off his socks. One sock was just plain black, but the other one was covered in the logo for a familiar TV show.
“Are you a fan of Y/N Y/L/N too?” Spencer just looked up in confusion.
“What?”
“Your sock, that’s her show right? It’s really good, I watched it in like a day.”
Spencer’s eyes went back to the book. “Uh, yeah. It’s a great show.”
Sure, Penelope thought he was acting a little weird, but that’s just Spencer. He doesn’t talk about his life outside of work too often, but she was glad he at least told her about the girlfriend. Even if he wouldn’t tell her her name, she was sure she could figure something out. So the next day, she updated Derek on her new information about Spencer.
“Wait wait wait, Spencer was wearing socks with the show’s logo? And reading The Duke and I?” The two of them had been walking towards the BAU kitchen to get a cup of coffee to help them get through the paperwork day, but Derek had stopped walking abruptly when Penelope gave him those details.
“That’s what you’re most interested in? Not the fact that Spencer has a girlfriend?” Penelope asked.
“C’mon baby girl, it’s obvious that Spencer’s been dating someone.”
“What! You knew! And you didn’t tell me?”
Derek laughed, resuming their walk towards coffee and letting Penelope hurry along behind him. “Sorry cupcake, I figured you knew too. He’s just been so happy for the past few months, in the way only a lady would make him.”
“Ugh, ok, well some of us aren’t profilers, Derek. What’s so important about the socks and book?” 
“Well,” Derek grabbed the coffee pot, pouring some into Penelope’s mug as he spoke. “Just a few weeks ago you dragged me to a bookstore, where we learned about a certain couple. A couple where the guy likes classics and the girl likes romance, right?”
“Yeah-Oh! No! There’s no way you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”
“And didn’t Spencer get flustered when you mentioned her?” He asked, now pouring the coffee into his own mug.
“Oh my god! The socks!” Penelope pulled her phone out of the pocket, quickly making her way to the picture she’d saved. She showed it to Derek once again, this time zooming in on the coffee table. “Those are the socks he was wearing! On her instagram!”
“Uh, why are you staring at a picture of Spencer’s living room?” Penelope jumped, not having noticed that JJ was standing over her shoulder, looking at the picture on Penelope’s phone.
“Wait, you’re sure this is his living room? Like, 100%?” Penelope had never actually been to his place before.
“Uh, yeah, he babysits Henry a lot. Why, what’s the big deal about it?”
“Oh my god, Spencer is dating a movie star. Spencer Reid is dating a movie star!” Penelope couldn’t help but jump up and down, almost spilling her coffee.
And then Spencer walked into the room, promptly ending the gossip between coworkers before Spencer could hear. 
Derek had made her promise to wait until Spencer was ready to talk about his relationship, but after an agonizing week, she felt like she was going to burst at the seams. So when she got a notification on their night off that Y/N had posted a new picture, she was aching to get more information about the secret relationship. This was, again, a picture in what she now knows is Spencer’s living room. This time, there was an open box of pizza on the table. It was captioned, “Lovely night in.”
So, naturally, Penelope immediately headed to Spencer’s.
~~~
Y/N doesn’t think it’s possible to be any more happy than she is right now.
8 months ago she’d just ended what was possibly the most disastrous relationship in the history of humankind. She’d made the classic mistake of dating a co-star; an older guy who was well known to be a bit of a playboy. The relationship had been extremely public; everything from their dates to their fights were somehow captured by paparazzi. His fans hated her, her fans hated him, and worst of all, the network was pushing them to be even more public in the hopes of gaining more viewers. At the end of it all, she was insanely grateful her character wouldn’t be returning for the next season as she was already booked for a movie. The only thing worse than breaking up with your co-star is having to continue playing his love interest. 
And just when she was at her absolute lowest, having sworn off of ever dating someone in the spotlight again, she ran into Spencer. 
After wrapping filming for a movie in Atlanta, the only reason she was even in D.C. was because her flight was forced to land early; a sudden storm was arriving and there was no way the plane would safely make it to New York. What started as an hour delay turned to three, then four, and before she knew it Y/N was stuck in town for a weekend. 
She spent basically an entire day hiding away in her hotel room, so Y/N just had to get out and do something. It was still raining cats and dogs, and she’d never been in the city before, so she just googled the closest places that were still open. Luckily, there was a small bookstore just down the street, and there were a few books she’d heard about that she hadn’t had the chance to buy yet. So she put on her coat and practically ran to the store. 
She was drenched and already regretting the decision to leave the hotel room by the time she walked into the building, but there was no point in turning back now. The place was practically empty anyways, Y/N only spotted an older woman reading a novel at the cash register. She slowly began browsing the shelves, not looking for anything in particular.
When she rounded one of the corners, however, she ran right into someone’s chest.
“Shit! I’m so sorry!” She immediately apologized, looking up to find a cute man staring back at her. “I wasn’t paying any attention, I assumed I was the only one in here.”
“That’s alright, I, um, I wasn’t paying attention either.”
The guy standing before her was holding various books, all reminding Y/N of the books she was supposed to read (but never actually read) for her high school English classes. “So, do you exclusively read books written before the 20th century or are you just taking a college class in-” She read the title of the book on top of his pile; a collection of short stories by Edgar Allen Poe. “-depressing gothic short stories?”
He laughed, rolling his eyes a bit. “I just like a bit of a challenge when reading. And it’s a rainy day, which calls for ‘depressing gothic short stories,’ not–” He glanced at the one book she’d picked up, a cartoon covered book called Red, White, and Royal Blue. “What I can only assume is a cheesy romance.”
Despite his insult of her choice in books, Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face. “Well maybe I like reading books that are actually entertaining, not reading so I can be confused by convoluted metaphors.” 
Just as he opened his mouth to respond, their conversation was disrupted. “Y/N Y/L/N? Aren’t you from that doctor show on television?” Y/N turned to see the woman that had been at the register earlier slowly walking over. 
“That’s me! It’s nice to meet you!” Y/N’s real smile suddenly switched to a smaller, more practiced one. It’s not that she didn’t love meeting fans–she’d just been enjoying a conversation with someone who wasn’t treating her differently. 
“Oh I knew I recognized you! My granddaughter loves her show, she was so upset when you decided to transfer to that fancy british hospital and…” The woman started rambling on a bit about the stuff her character had done and how her granddaughter reacted to it. Y/N glanced over at the guy she’d been talking to, who seemed entertained by the whole interaction. “...Anyways, do you think we could take a picture? My granddaughter will just never believe you were here!”
“Of course, um, do you mind taking it for us…?”
“Spencer. Yeah, I’ll take the picture for you. Do you have a camera, Mrs. Waverly?” Clearly the guy, Spencer, was a bit of a regular here if he knew her by name. 
“Yes, yes, it’s around here somewhere…” The woman scrambled off, muttering to herself about where she’d last seen the camera.
“So…” Spencer spoke first, breaking the somewhat awkward silence while they waited for Mrs. Waverly. “You read cheesy romances and star in cheesy Grey’s Anatomy knockoffs?”
“Hey! It wasn’t a Grey’s-” His pointed look made her stop. “Ok, it was totally a Grey’s Anatomy knockoff, but I’m not on the show anymore so you can’t make fun of me for it!”
Mrs. Waverly finally reappeared, with an old polaroid camera in her hands. The two quickly took a picture, which Y/N happily signed for the woman. By the time both Y/N and Spencer had bought their books, the rain had slowed to a light drizzle. 
“So, um…” Spencer started, but trailed off, not knowing what to say.
“My hotel is just down the street.” Y/N said, pointing in the right direction. Spencer’s eyes widened a bit before Y/N realized what she’d said. “Not that I’m like, inviting you to my hotel room, I’m not, that’d be crazy, I just-” She cut herself off, trying to not ramble anymore. “Do you wanna walk with me? Tell me more about your depressing book?”
Luckily, Spencer wasn’t put off by her rambling. “I’d love to. Poe isn’t always depressing, really…” He started, as the two of you walked slowly towards your hotel.
From there, the short walk turned into a coffee date the next day, which turned into long FaceTimes while one or both of you were in different cities, which lead to where you are now; 8 months deep in a relationship and finally in town with Spencer. He’d still have work of course, but you’d be in town for the next two months as your next job wasn’t starting for a while. 
The two of you were basically in an extended honeymoon phase. Only your closest friends knew that you were dating anyone, so you never had to worry about it leaking to the press. You figured when the two of you got more serious you’d eventually have to go public with the relationship, but for now it was nice having something just for you. 
You were in Spencer’s apartment, scrolling through Netflix looking for something new to watch, when Spencer arrived home from work.
“I think my team knows that we’re dating.” 
“What?”
Spencer made his way to the couch, laying down next to Y/N as he continued, “Well obviously JJ knows, but she said she wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m sure Hotch and Rossi at least have figured out that I’m dating someone, but I don’t think they care enough to figure out who. But today Garcia and Morgan were just acting weird. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if-”
Spencer was cut off by a knock at the door. “Spencer Reid if you don’t open this door right now I’m making Derek kick it down!” 
“Let me guess…that’s Garcia.” Y/N said, laughing as Spencer rolled his eyes and got up to open the door. 
“Spencer, are you actually dating a movie star? And you didn’t tell me?” Garcia complained, not yet seeing Y/N sitting on the couch as she entered the room, solely focused on Spencer. Derek walked in next, immediately noticing Y/N and smiling at her. Y/N made her way over, trying not to laugh at Garcia’s widening eyes when she noticed her. 
“Sorry, I think it’s my fault that he didn’t tell you. We’re just keeping things quiet right now.” You explained, “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 
Derek was the first to grab your hand. “Derek Morgan. I’m sorry about all this, she was just curious.”
“I’m Penelope! And you’re Y/N and I love your work so much you don’t even know!” Penelope began rambling, taking Y/N’s arm in hers and leading her over to the couch as she talked about her favorite parts of Y/N’s movie. Derek and Spencer slowly followed, talking amongst themselves.
“So…Spencer Reid and Y/N Y/L/N. How’d that happen?” Derek asked. 
Spencer smiled, thinking back to that night 8 months ago. “We met in a bookstore last year.”
Derek laughed, because of course Reid would meet a girl at a bookstore. “You happy?”
Again, he smiled. “I’ve never been happier.”
~~~
taglist
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @kenzi-woycehoski @esposadomd @andreasworlsboring101 @peculiarinsomniac 
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misseviehyde · 3 months
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PIERCE ME
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"You are not getting your belly pierced young lady, whatever you may say - this is the end of the story!"  
Hannah pouted as her Mother screamed at her for the third time that day.  She had been nagging her Mom for hours now, but all it had succeeded in doing was to antagonize Linda and make it even less likely Hannah would get what she wanted.  
"That's so unfair. Donna's Mom let her get one. All my friends are getting them!"  
"Donna's Mom may not mind her daughter looking like a little slut - but I do.  You will have to wait till you are old enough to get one with your own consent. I want nothing to do with this," scowled Linda with her hands on her hips.
Stomping her foot, Hannah tossed back her head with a scream of rage and stormed out of the living room. On the way, she nearly bumped into a smirking figure by the door who was enjoying the show.
Hannah scowled as her little brother Eddie laughed at her. He loved watching her get into trouble and was such a goody two shoes. Pathetic little boys like him needed to stay out of her way.
She went to push him out of the way, but he ducked out of the way and stuck his tongue out at her.
What a little shitbag...
She'd show him to mess with her... him and her Mom!
***
Hannah decided she would get a piercing anyway. Once she had her belly pierced it would be too late for anyone to do anything about it and she didn't care if she got grounded so long as she got what she wanted.
She put on makeup and clothes to make herself look older and stormed down to the mall - but as she was too young to provide an I.D - no one was fooled enough to help her.
Sobbing outside a tattoo parlour, her mascara running, Hannah grit her teeth hard. Life was so UNFAIR. Why couldn't she just do what she wanted?
Suddenly she heard a laugh. A cool looking woman with pink hair and tattoos and piercings was leaning against the side of the shop eyeing her up.
"You gonna give up that easily bitch? I've been watching you all morning trying to get a piercing and failing. I was starting to admire your determination but now I see you're just pathetic."
Hannah stormed to her feet. "Fuck you! I'll get a piercing even if I have to do it to myself!"
The woman's eyes flashed with amusement and partial admiration. "Yes! That's more like it girl. Take what you want. Don't let anyone stand in your way. Bully and manipulate others to always get what you want. Sluts ALWAYS win."
Hannah gawped at her.
"I can see some real potential in you, so I'm gonna help you get EVERYTHING you ever wanted. I can give you an slutty magic piercing. Use it when you get home and it will turn you into a sexy eighteen year old bitch.  No one will even remember the old you - it will be like you have always been a hot popular slut. Your Mom will never be able to stop you again. You'll finally be the assertive, bullying, spoiled slut you dream of being and you will be able to get as many tattoos and piercings as you like. No one will ever stop you again."  
The woman produced a piercing from between her fingers and tossed it to the surprised Hannah. "Just put this into your belly button and let it bond with you. All your dreams will finally come true. Trust me."
Hannah slipped the piercing into her jeans pocket and with a muttered 'thank you' stumbled away whilst the woman watched with a smirk. Hannah truly believed what she had been given was really magic. There was just something so convincing about the woman.
The pink haired woman watched Hannah run excitedly away then turned and walked back into her tattoo parlour. "Evie's Place."
What happened next really wasn't her problem, she just hoped the girl enjoyed the gift she'd been given...
***
Hannah couldn't believe her luck. She wanted to believe in the magic so badly and be a hot older girl. The urge to put the ring in straight away was almost irresistible, but she wanted somewhere private to transform where she could enjoy her transformation. "Soon I'll be a slutty popular bitch and then NO ONE will stop me."
Hannah ran excitedly home, her heart pounding. She couldn't wait to try the magic piercing and get older and hotter.
Once she was a slutty eighteen year old she could fuck boys, drink alcohol and smoke. She would have a body that would make others jealous and would do whatever she wanted. She couldn't wait to be a slutty, spoiled bully and torment her Mom and stupid brother.
She could already imagine wearing the hottest skimpiest clothes, swearing and belittling people... getting tattoo's and maybe even her nipples pierced. It was going to be so fucking hot!
Bursting through the door to the house, Hannah grabbed the piercing and leapt up the stairs. A few more seconds and her dreams would come true.  She quickly ran up to her room, but in her haste failed to notice her brother Eddie was once again in the way.
This time he was too slow to avoid her and they collided, Hannah bouncing backwards and Eddie hitting the wall with an 'oof'. The impact caused her to fall onto her backside and the piercing leapt out of her hand and spinning in the air bounced onto the carpet in front of Eddie. Recovering quickly, he pushed himself off from the wall and he picked up the piercing triumphantly.
"Haha, Mom said you couldn't have one of these. I'm telling. You're gonna be in SO much trouble." Eddie was gloating, he loved having something to hold over his stupid sister.
Seeing the piercing glittering in her brothers fingers, Hannah suddenly felt the icy grip of fear. She had to get the piercing back at once from him, but she needed to play it down. If he thought for one moment it was really important, she'd never get it back. Taking it by force could be an option, but was risky. No... the subtle approach was best.
"It's a fake one you douche. Mom says I couldn't have a real piercing so I bought a fake one that stays in your belly without a pin. It's actually a worthless, cheap piece of shit. You're wasting your time, she isn't gonna care about it." Hannah tried to keep her voice calm.
"No! I don't believe you. I'll prove to Mommy you disobeyed her. Look - it doesn't stay in," sneered Eddie, sliding the piercing into his belly button to prove his sister wrong. 
"Noooooo" screamed Hannah - but it was too late as the piercing bit into Eddie's belly button and eagerly took root. He instantly transformed - a rippling wave of energy spreading out from the piercing and turning Eddie from a good boy into a nasty little slut and altering reality to create Hannah's bitchy older sister Ella.  
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Bones cracked and skin tightened - his flesh tanning slightly as Eddie moaned and stretched pleasurably. It felt good to become a girl and he offered no resistance as big tits pushed out of chest, causing his top to balloon out and his little boy dick sucked away to become a tight eighteen year old pussy.  
Lying on the floor, Hannah stared up in horror at her transforming brother as his ass pushed out and he grew taller and sexier than she could ever hope to be.
Slutty white expensive nails sprang from each finger tip and every inch of hair on his body melted away to leave smooth tannedfemale flesh.
The girl above her was moaning and giggling in pleasure as her voice became rich and bratty.
"Oooooh what's happening... mmmmhhh it feels so good," she moaned as her short hair lengthened and grew out. Thick slutty makeup coated Eddie's once innocent face and naughty pink lips curved into a surprised look as his insides churned and he became physically fully female.  
"Ohhhh shit, I can mmmmh almost feel my ahhhh new uterus in there... oooh I'm a fucking girl and I like it! I feel so feminine. I can FEEL the estrogen pumping around me. Making me girly, making me like boys. Mmmmh."
Thick black lashes fluttered in pleasure as sexy blonde hair fell down around her shoulders and naughty blue eyes twinkled with the desire for sex.
This girl needed a new outfit and Eddie's shorts became a pair of tight white hot pants as his big tits were encased in a slutty pink top. Gold hooped earring dropped from his ears as his trainers turned into bitchy pink cowboy boots - just perfect to get fucked in.
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As his clothes changed - Ella's personality rose inside him to take control. A bitchy voice giggled in his head and Eddie allowed it to re-write his thoughts, mind and personality.
Sinking into Ella felt good. Being older and sluttier felt so amazing. The piercing was making HIM the naughty bitch of the family. He wanted it all.
Hey little Eddie. Time to become me... mmmh time to be a bad, bad girl. You're gonna love having my pussy and tits and being a naughty little cock-sucking slut. Let me fill your head with memories of all the boys we gave blow jobs to and all that cock we swallowed.  Mmmh you love cum now don't cha bitch?  And getting fucked by a big cock... feeling it deep in that tight pussy. Mmmh you live for that now! Yes thats it... you're becoming me... ahhhhh good boy. Now cum and become me fully...
Shuddering in pleasure, Ella creamed her panties and the once pure and innocent boy became a spoiled bitch. His bad girly side was now dominating their body. Eddie was dead.
"Oh fuck  yeah - I am sooooo totally a slut now and I fucking love it. Yessss!" 
Giggling madly, Ella grabbed her tits and squeezed. She felt amazing. Being a naughty whore was such fun and she was never going to take the piercing off.  
Hannah shook her head like she was in a dream. The events of the last few hours were fading as reality changed so that she remembered nothing of her brother.
Looking at her slutty sister, Hannah felt nothing but disgust. "Eugh - why are you always acting like such a slut?", muttered Hannah darkly as she watched Ella play with herself.
Her sisters new personality had slotted into her own life and having grown up embarrassed and disgusted by her exhibitionist sister, Hannah was now a quiet little nerd girl. She no longer remembered she ever had a brother or that she had even wanted the piercing for herself.  
Ella did remember though - it amused her to think she had woken up this morning as a little boy. Being a hot bitchy slut was loads better and she giggled joyously. "Whatever sis. I'm off to my room for some real fun. You're SUCH a fucking loser."
Hannah had just picked herself up. She now had bottle top glasses and a preppy outfit on. Laughing, Ella tore the glasses off her face and ground them under a booted heel - then she pushed her blinded sister over again.
"Ohhh but before I go, if you ever call me a slut again in front of Mom and Dad I'll do worse than this you little bitch. Don't forget it."
***
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Changed into something more casual and easy to rip off - Ella excitedly examined her room. It was a boudoir fit for a princess.
Calling her latest boyfriend on her expensive mobile phone, Ella examined her new bedroom as he made his way over. It was pink now. Pink, girly and slutty - just the way she likes.
She played with her blonde hair and admired her sexy new grown up body, lusting after herself.  Fuck she was hot.
When her bad boy boyfriend Jason arrived she didn't waste anytime. "Baby - I am so horny. I want you to fuck me... hard." 
Ella moaned and squealed as Jason threw her onto the bed and ripped off her clothes. His hand closed round her throat as he pushed deep into her tight bare pussy and began to pound her - causing Ella to moan and groan in pure ecstasy.  This was how she liked it... to be used like a whore.
"Yes... fuck me you stud! Pound my body with that big cock! I want it deeper... OHHHH YES"  
Ella loved being fucked rough. She watched her piercing glitter in her navel as Jason stretched her pussy out good. His cock slid in and out of her tight clinging pussy lips and her big tits shook as he fucked her hard. She wrapped her tanned legs around his strong waist.
"Cum in me baby... I wanna feel it fill me up."
Turning her head Ella giggled as she saw her door was ajar and the tear streaked squinting face of Hannah was watching her. It was so fucking hot to rub her sisters face in it. Hmmm maybe she should make the little bitch eat Jason's cum when he creampied her?
"Cum in me. Ohhhh fuck yessssssss." She groaned as he pumped so much into her it instantly flooded out down her tanned thighs.
Being a slut felt so fucking good...
***
THREE MONTHS LATER
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"What's the matter loser?" laughed Ella as she pulled up next to Hannah on the sidewalk. "No friends to walk home with? I'd give you a lift but I'm on my way to the mall."
Of course Hannah had no friends. Ella had seen to that by bullying them all.
Since becoming a slut Ella had transformed her life and other peoples. She was now a spoiled toxic girly girl and so long as she had her magic piercing, no one could stop her. But her desire to corrupt others was now growing.
"I'm on my way to Evie's Place to buy some more piercings. I was thinking it's time to get Mom and Dad a present too. You know... I think Mom might enjoy a clit piercing. Once I get it onto her, she'll become the fake plastic neighbourhood homewrecker I know she can be. For Daddy - a cock ring and a cage. I can't wait to turn him into a simp."
Lauging, Ella threw some wrappers and trash she didn't want out of her car and into her sisters face. The shutting the door she drove on.
It was time to see what else Evie's Place had to offer...
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updatingranboo · 9 months
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ranboo tweet... uh
["This was such a good joke and I am appalled by the fact that it has not gone absolutely bonkers viral. I mean is comedy dead? I just dont understand how a regular human being can read the word "Greans" (A combination of green and jeans) followed by an image of, well, green jeans, and not absolutely evacuate themselves in laughter.
I believe this has something to do with the fact that comedy as we know it is dying. It has become too mainstream in todays media and that is the main problem. Gone are the days where silly little guys in their silly little hop hats are able to go "knock knock" and absolutely change the world. Nowadays you have to have so many things that go into a joke for it to remotely even be funny, setup, punchline the whole ordeal. Whatever happened to just a simple Practicality joke? Whatever happened to just being able to slap someone and be the headlining act?
The world is so full of so called "comedians" these days it makes me sick. All these people do is spend hours writing and practicing their act in order to try and sway an audience to have a good time listening to their words. For SHAME! Comedy used to be just two people on a stage just slapping eachother and going "knock knock" for twenty hours. Whatever happened to the good ol days where people just laughed at whatever someone said because their brain hadnt fully developed?
This is why I believe that I am going to start performing my comedy acts to a bunch of babies. An absolute hoard of newborns. I will make my jokes to them and they will laugh for they truly understand what humor should be. I will go to a hospital in that little room they have where it is very easy to switch said babies and cause a bit of a ruckus, but instead of doing that (very funny joke) I will simply perform for them and relish in their cheers and guffaws.
It is sad that one has to turn to performing to just babies in order for the world to understand the complexity of ones said humor, but alas if its what I must do its what I must do. Maybe one day we will revert back to absolute comedy anarchy, where the chicken has not yet crossed the road, but until then I will continue to strive and push forward in this dark age of comedy.
Maybe a complete reset of what we find funny is in order, maybe we have lost what humor once was for us. We obviously have considering my VERY FUNNY TWEET does not have a bazillion likes and has not spun off at least 30 million movie deals. (Please note that this joke is satire, and Ranboo stands in solidarity with the SAG-AFTRA strikes. Support actors and writers. -A message from Ranboo)
I spent time and effort making this tweet, I saw the green jeans in front of my eyes (which are very squishy) and my neurons fired and made this absolute gem of a joke. I was excited to share it with the world, I tweeted it nearly right after I saw it, excited to see what new adventures this tweet could bring me. I went to bed all cozy smiling like a child on christmas eve night, excited for the morning. When I woke I turned to check my phone instantly, my eyes racing to see the like total. What would it be? 500k? A million? I was surprised that my dms hadnt blown up with a personal message from every billionaire going "let me give you all of my money I can never make anything as good as your "Greans" tweet" but It must have been a glitch.
I was appalled to see that my tweet had only 30K??? 30K for the pinnacle of all of human achievement? A slap in the face of innovation is what it felt like. Like when that thomas edison guy ate a stolen lightbulb or something idk what he did really but I remember the person who made that lightbulb which he ate probably felt really sad and I felt really sad so I felt a deep connection with that person.
I quickly fell into a great depression, this is what all of my life had lead up to: one sad tweet. I didnt see the outside for years because of this tweet. I thought to myself "why would they do this?", "Isnt humanity supposed to be kind, supportive, and have a sense of humor when it comes to differently colored jean jokes?" (dcjj as I call them), and "Man I should probably have a burger" (I did) (very yummy) but as I ate my burger all I could taste were my TEARS as I chomped into it from the top down. It felt like I couldnt do anything right. Until thats when it hit me.
Im not the problem, EVERYONE ELSE IS! My humor isnt "bad" or "unfunny" or "makes me want to find a microwave and cause it to malfunction so I either become the hulk or die" (Please do not try this. -Another Ranboo message) It has to be that simply I am so far ahead in the world when it comes to comedy that my time has simply just not yet come! My jokes will be funny to a different generation, which will be frowned upon at first but I will quickly be welcomed with open arms, and told that I am an innovator, a true scholar of all that is funny.
And so I wait for that day. I wait for the day that people look back on my Greans tweet and realize, that without a doubt that it is the funniest thing that they have ever seen. The problem is not with my joke, the problem is with the world, and thats what makes humanity beautiful, is that it evolves, it changes, it doesnt stick to its mindset that a tweet that has the word "Greans" followed by a pair of green jeans doesnt get a BAZILLION LIKES! I wait for that day, and for those of you who are with me, I hope you wait patiently as well. Stay strong."]
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spooky-holtz · 4 months
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I Put a Spell on You
Melissa Schemmenti x fem!reader
Genre: fluff (crack if you squint)
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: This is the first part in a little series that explores the mug from 'Delicate'. I really wanted to share some little ideas I had about the images that would be on it so stay tuned for some more parts bc I'm already writing them :)
Feedback is very much appreciated!
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When the topic of Halloween costumes came up in conversation in the teachers’ lounge during a crisp morning at the beginning of October, you couldn’t help but join in with tales of your own previous looks. The good, the bad, and the ugly are all shared amongst the group when Jacob brings up his outfit from the year prior; one half of a matching Mario and Luigi costume with Zac.  
“You know, I’ve never actually done a couples costume,” you say to nobody in particular, thinking out loud as you stir sugar into your coffee in an effort to make it a little less bland. The conversation stops immediately, and every head turns to look at where you lean with your back against the counter, cradling your steaming mug.  
“Wait, what?!” Janine exclaims, her wide eyes only adding to her outrage. “Never? In your entire life?” 
“I guess, yeah,” you shrug, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. If you had known that every pair of eyes would be focused on your quickly reddening cheeks, you would never have opened your mouth. “I’ve just never been with anyone who was interested in that sort of stuff.”  
The silence in the room is tense. The fact that this group is so shocked at your little revelation is worrying to say the least but at least it shows they care, albeit about the wrong things.  
“Have you at least done a group costume with your friends?” Asks Jacob, his expression of concern and disbelief matching Janine’s comically wide eyes. You pause for a moment, looking up at a stain on the ceiling in a bid to avoid all eye contact as you recall various high school and college parties. Not once can you remember organizing a group costume.  
“Uhhh, nope. I’ve never done it,” you say, feeling brave enough to look back down and at the table directly in front of you. Barbara has turned in her seat to join the conversation, watching the two sides of the room like a tennis match. She’s clearly not as bothered as the rest of the room but happy to be involved, nonetheless. Your gaze shifts to Melissa who is looking over the rim of her cat-eye glasses at you, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pursed slightly in thought. The intensity of her stare makes you feel more uneasy than the rest of the room combined. You shuffle your feet and pull your eyes away from hers when Janine chirps up again.  
“I actually can’t believe it. I thought you would have been really into all that.” 
“Who says I’m not,” you shoot back. “I just didn’t have anybody that was willing to make themselves look like an idiot with me.”  
All through college you would have killed to enter a party, no matter how shitty the frat house venue was, with the Barbie to your Ken or the Buzz to your Woody on your arm. The memories of entering parties with your friends in ‘sexy cat’ costumes, trailing at the back dressed in a bright white Padme Amidala getup makes you chuckle.  
“Actually, the parties kinda remind me of that scene from Mean Girls, you know?” Most of the group chuckles along and nods in recognition, with only Barbara looking slightly confused. “I guess it was just never meant to be.”  
You push yourself off the counter and move toward the closest table. Pulling a chair out next to Barbara, you can’t help but feel a certain redhead’s gaze boring into the side of your head.  
“I say we change that,” she remarks, her first addition to the entire discussion. “I’ve already got my costume, and it’s pretty hot if I do say so myself, but we can easily make it a couples thing for ya.”  
Barb turns to you, shockingly overjoyed at the idea. Considering she didn’t get involved with Halloween, her enthusiasm at the prospect is unmatched.  
“Now wouldn’t that be lovely?” She gasps, looking between the two of you with an almost knowing glint in her eye. You think for a moment, looking over to meet green eyes and seeing them scrunched slightly as she smirks back at you, knowing that having Barbara on her side ultimately means you lose.  
“That’s really nice of you Mel, but we’re not a couple. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable with whatever talk will happen from certain people,” you almost whisper, trying to keep prying eyes of your co-workers that crane their necks to look over her shoulder from hearing.  One sharp look over her shoulder has them quickly backing down, instantly focusing their attention on the suddenly interesting paperwork that sits in front of each of them. Satisfied, Melissa continues.
“Hun, you really think that bothers me?” She says with a raised eyebrow, leaning forward onto the table, the grading she was doing completely forgotten about. “Please, I’ve had much worse said about me. Besides, having you by my side will only make my costume look better.”  
She punctuates her last statement with another wink and you feel your cheeks heat again, turning a violent shade of red.  
In the last year you’ve spent at Abbott you’ve grown to learn a lot about Melissa’s ‘persuasive’ personality and admittedly had fallen head over heels for her. Who wouldn’t? You’re pretty sure Barbara has caught on to your lovesick puppy act, thankfully leaving the topic alone in conversation. Instead, you get knowing glances from the older woman anytime she catches you and Melissa giggling like school children over a joke in the hallways, or when the redhead makes your coffee just how you like it in the mornings, leaving the steaming brew waiting in front of your seat for your arrival.  
You mull her proposition over, staring into your cooling mug of coffee that sits between your hands on the table. She leans back in her chair, arms folded, and eyebrow raised again as she stares you down. She knows she’s won.  
“Okay, why not?” You sigh, looking up again to meet her gaze. She grins and claps, the laugh lines around her eyes accentuating the wideness of her smile. If you had known agreeing would have made her this happy, there would have been absolutely no hesitation. Seeing her pearly white smile is the highlight of most days for you, the sight instantly improving any bad days you may have. This is no exception.  
In hindsight you probably should have discussed the details of your costume before blindly agreeing to Melissa’s proposal, but there’s no way you could ever turn her down. This idea doesn’t come to you until the morning of Halloween however, as you stand in the hallway outside your classroom trying to psych yourself up for a day pretending to be Melissa Schemmenti’s other half.  
“Mel, I look like an idiot,” you grumble. “How do you get to dress like that, and I’ve ended up looking like Elmo and Kermit the Frog had an illegitimate child?”  
“No no no, you look great, hun,” she reassures you. The way her lips are slightly pursed in a desperate bid to bite back the giggle that’s threatening to escape says otherwise.  
You, on the other hand, are less than impressed at her terrible poker face. Of all the times for her to lose her hard exterior, it had to be now. As much as you want to be mad at her for omitting the extremely-green-lycra part of your Vision to her Wanda costume, her visible excitement and rosy cheeks immediately put a stop to any negativity.  
“I’m serious,” she continues, “besides you don’t look anywhere near as bad as Janine right now. That girl is wearing whole-ass beard.”  
You raise your eyebrows as if to say ‘really?’, not quite believing her frantic excuses.  
“Don’t give me that look. It looks as if she’s rolled around on the floor of a barber shop.”  
You huff through your nose, arms crossing over your chest. You can’t help but look her up and down as she tries her best to reassure you that this look was the best decision for today. There’s no denying that she looks incredible in her Scarlet Witch getup, the tight outfit accentuating her irresistible curves and stunning figure. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her in such a form fitting piece and you really hope this isn’t the last time. You’re so obviously checking her out, but you hope your furrowed brow makes it look as though you’re just deep in frustrated thought.  
Meanwhile, you’re clad in bright green lycra and sickly yellow basketball shorts, all topped off with a matching cape and some alarmingly bright red face-paint. Your hair is tucked inside the hood of the outfit, and you desperately hope that this aids you in going unnoticed and unrecognised, though deep down you know that the assaulting colours will do little to disguise you and give you away as soon as the day begins. There is absolutely no hope of camouflaging in the full halls of Abbott when you look like a walking Crayola pack.  
As you begin to retreat into yourself, the annoyance quickly turning into embarrassment at the situation, Melissa reaches out to touch your arm that is still crossed over your torso.  
“Hey, I’m telling you we look incredible right now. I can guarantee you nobody else will have made this amount of effort with their costume,” you know she’s trying her best to reassure you but you’re past the point of no return. You’re one mean sunburn joke away from taking a dish sponge to your face and changing into something a lot less… weird.  
As you open your mouth to dismiss Melissa’s words, she silences you by reaching out her other hand to flatten the tie of your cape that sits around your neck. Her gloved hand feels impossibly warm through the fabric and you’re sure she’s moved closer to you, the toes of your bright white sneakers almost touching those of her crimson heels. She looks up through her eyelashes at you once she’s satisfied with her work, her hand staying in place and flattening against your sternum. This is the only time you’ll be glad for the paint slathered across your delicate features because you’re sure you’ve turned the exact same shade of red underneath.  
Melissa’s proximity to you is intoxicating. You can almost see every faint freckle that is covered by her makeup, her winged eyeliner impossibly sharp even this close. You’re trapped in this position, but you have no desire to move, desperately hoping she’ll push you back the few steps to trap you against the cold brick wall. You’re positive you’re imagining her eyes flickering from your own down to your scarlet lips, but the sight can’t help but make you imagine what she would look like with her own red lipstick smudged past the edges of her full, inviting lips.  
The clicking of heels against the tiled floor snaps you out of the moment and she jumps back, putting a good foot of space between you as you both try to recollect yourselves. Ava rounds the corner adorned in a flashy silver getup, her cape billowing behind her as she struts toward you. Her eyes squint when she sees the two of you and her mouth drops slightly as she realises just who is stood next to the Scarlet Witch.  
“Wandavision, wuh-wandavision,” she sings as she nears you. “Goddamn girl, you look less like Vision and more like ‘blind’”  
“Ava,” you groan over her cackle, “I can already feel my students ripping into me for the next 7 hours, i don’t need you getting involved as well.”  
“All I’m saying is you look like Mr. Clean had a bad accident with some ketchup,” another cackle follows as she carries on her way down the hallway, not even giving you chance to process the insult as the sound of her walking away grows faint. You turn slowly to Melissa, not wanting to see her expression of pity. When your eyes meet, all you can see is an impossible softness that rarely comes out in the redhead.  
“I genuinely think you look incredible right now, hun,” she says, her hand reaching out to touch your farm once again. Her thumb begins to rub where it lays, the friction burning an abnormal amount through the layers of fabric that separate your skin. You scoff at her statement, not quite believing that in her world the sunburnt equivalent of Howie Mandel is ‘incredible’. Before you can say a word, she continues. “Nobody has ever been willing to do this for me. You dropped everything to join in and I absolutely love you for it.” Her grin widens as she sees your walls visibly come down at her words, knowing she’s got under your skin and won yet again.  
You can’t help but lose yourself in her eyes at her confession, noticing the smile lines that surround them deepening with her increasing happiness. You would give anything to see those lines deepen like this every single day, especially if it means that you were the cause of it and her good mood.  
A gasp from behind you pulls you away from losing yourself too deeply, both of you snapping your heads to look at the interruption. In front of you stands none other than Barabara Howard dressed as... a bumble bee? Almost as if sensing your confusion at the letters attached to her torso, she jumps in with, “I’m a spelling bee, before you can ask,” you raise your eyebrows and let out a small 'ohhh' before she continues. “And I have no need to ask who you two are, you little marvel cuties! You both look absolutely incredible!” 
You don’t miss the way that Melissa squeezes your arm slightly from where it still sits, resting against your bicep, saying a silent ‘I told you so’.  
“You have to let me take a picture of you so I can show Gerald before the students get here,” she pleads. You’re about to decline the request until you look down to where Melissa stands next to you, only to see her grin impossibly wider than before, practically bouncing with excitement. The sight makes your heart melt in your chest and demolishes any notion of hesitance you had about this costume. Her happiness and enthusiasm are reason enough for all this to be worth it, even if your face will be stained by the bright red makeup for days to come.  
“Alright then, let’s do this,” you sigh, moving away slightly to get into position while Barb pulls her phone out of her own costume, lifting it up to prepare for the barrage of images she is about to assault you with.  
You both stand facing the camera, Melissa with her hands reaching out, almost as if she’s casting a spell. You take the opposite  approach, widening your stance and placing your hands on your hips. Your head is lifted, standing tall and proud to the side of the redhead as you both pose.  
You hear the camera shutter closing each time Barb jabs at her screen with her forefinger, Melissa changing poses slightly with every noise. You can’t help but grin yourself as you look down at her, her excitement for the holiday no doubt going above and beyond that of the literal children you teach.  
Her head turns toward you as the photoshoot continues, catching your loving gaze toward her. She softens her own gaze and smiles back at you as the shutter goes off one last time and you hear a “alright, I think that should be enough pictures” from the eldest woman of your group. The statement causes you to tear your eyes away from Melissa’s and clear your throat, the both of you forgetting the company you had for a brief moment.  
“Uh, yeah, I think so too,” you stutter, caught off guard by the way the irresistible redhead matched your captivated expression. “I think I’m gonna shoot off to get ready for the day – that classroom won’t tidy itself.” Your eyes flit between the two older women as you speak, both of them nodding along and agreeing to do the same with the last few free minutes of the morning before madness inevitably ensues.  
“I’ll see you at recess later hun,’ Mel calls as you turn and wave, making your way down the hallway toward your classroom. “Have a great day!” You can’t help but grin again, feeling as though it hasn’t fallen off your face for the last ten minutes that you’ve spent in the redhead’s company. Your step undeniably has a little more pep than it did earlier, that’s for sure.  
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wayfayrr · 7 months
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Sky being self aware had been plaguing my mind since I wrote this other piece where he confronts you about having played through his game, however while you could read this as a sequel it is written as something separate!
before the main thing though just gonna say, I don't actually support yandere behaviour in real life - I don't usually mention this because in my opinion it goes without saying, however since reader borders a little bit on being one in this I just wanted to make it clear!
[masterlist]
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It’s been so long since I last played Skyward Sword, Really I think the last time I picked it up was at least a year ago now. I’d almost forgotten I actually had it on the switch, if it weren’t for me needing to do a clear out I might have never remembered that I had this. I’ve got some spare time right now so really there shouldn’t be an issue if I took a break to play for a while would there? In the worst case I’d get distracted for a bit, but it’s not like I can’t just carry on cleaning tomorrow. Setting up the game was easier than ever, not like setting up any switch game is particularly hard though. My old save was still waiting patiently, I could never bring myself to delete it even after getting a hundred percent. Perhaps it’s finally time to try out hero mode for the first time?
The opening cutscene is nice to watch again, even if I can’t help but feel bad for Link in it, seeing what it’s building up to. Huh? I could’ve sworn my controllers were working a second ago, they can’t have disconnected during the cutscene either, could they?
“[Name]? Dearest… you’ve finally come back…”
What.
It’s like I’ve just been plunged into ice water - I- I’m dreaming right? I have to be, there’s no way this could possibly be real. He’s a game character. Link can’t be speaking to me as if he’s a real person. He can’t be.
“Darling, You - you look so pale are you alright?”
Another step toward the screen, a head-tilt and clear concern on his face. More than possible. I knew it, this has to be a dream.
“Darling, I know that this is strange for you - don’t you think it’s strange for me as well? I mean - I know I’m not supposed to exist as I do. I’m only supposed to be a blank slate for you to play this game as not - not have my own feelings.”
A sharp inhale laced with the sounds of static reverberated throughout the room, with a far too alive sounding sniffle as he wiped his eyes and took yet another step closer. Even eerier was the laugh that followed when he made eye contact with me, something sad and wet sounding like he’s barely holding himself together. It sounds too real.
“It’s been so long I thought that you - I thought that you forgot me. That you weren’t going to come back. I hoped - no I knew - that you didn’t though and you didn’t! You came back to me my love and now I’m not going to let you out of my sight again. I know that it wasn’t your fault that you took so long, I - I mean you didn’t even know that I’m alive but I’m not going to risk it happening again.”
He’s right up against the screen now, staring at me as he presses his hand up against it, like he’s testing it. Gently testing as if he’s trying to see how much pressure the glass can take. If there’s any time best to wake up already it would be now. 
“I’ve been stuck in here alone for so long, if I didn’t have something to focus on I would have gone insane! Can you imagine that? If I didn’t have you to think about all that time I would have lost myself! I was made for you; I know you care about me as well. Please [name] I - I don’t know who I’m supposed to be any more, I’m not - not your character. I’m so much more than that empty husk.”
His hand pushes further on the glass as his fingers tense up, now like he’s preparing himself for something. Link, I’ve never seen him - any version of him in any version of the games acting even half as emotive as this. That proves that this is all a dream, he can’t be - this can’t be real. 
“There’s one other thing that being trapped in here for all this time has let me focus on I think I know how to get out now… If I press this just-”
A sickeningly twisted smile found its way onto his face with each shrill crack of the glass screen under his hand. The other moving up to join it as he pushed even harder, intending to shatter the barrier, he’s convinced himself is standing between us. My chest feels so tight right now, why am I so sore in a dream?  If I were awake I’d be convinced I was having a panic attack but - no- no I’m not awake.
“Right. Then - Well you can see can’t you dearest? If I carry on like this, there won’t be any-”
A loud wince as his hand shatters through the screen, the glass shards cutting through his skin effortlessly marring both him and the remaining screen with - with his blood. The laughter that followed the screen cutting to blank with his hand reaching through seemed to tighten the band that’s seemingly wrapped itself around my lungs making it harder still to breathe. How could I breathe when link - the link is dragging himself out of my tv. 
“Come on darling..? I know you feel the same way about me, I’ve heard you say it all. So please don’t just stand there looking terrified. You have no reason to be scared of me, I love you so much [name]. Can’t you see I’m doing this so that we can be together? I can’t wait to finally hold you in my arms.”
Frozen. That’s the only way I can describe how I’m feeling right now, my once-warm blood has turned to ice within my veins. He’s not stopping. His shirt that was once a pale beige is now stained with red patches, as his head and torso are out of the screen now. What was once a comforting face to see, one of my favourite characters is staring me down with a downright vicious grin while he is dripping with his own blood. Even beneath all of that though, there’s still something so tender, so scared about him, something is worrying him.
“Please darling you’re so pale, you don’t need to be scared - I promise you everything is going to be alright. [name] please just say something to me…”
Dark spots are starting to show in my vision now and… I’m not sure if this is a dream anymore. There are too many things adding up that don’t make any sense. But if it’s not that, I don’t…
“[NA]-”
><><><><
Did I pass out? I mean it really feels like I did, but I don’t feel like I hit anything. If I passed out when I was alone then I would’ve hit my head on something. Maybe I’m just waking up from that weird dream. Hopefully. Although that wouldn’t explain -
“You’re alright darling, I’m here. I’ve got you, you’re safe, you’re alright.”
Why I feel like someone’s holding me? 
“Oh dearest you’re finally awake… You - you scared me you know? I didn’t think I was going to be able to catch you, that you were going to get hurt. I’m so glad that I did though love.” It wasn’t a dream. That was Link’s voice, the same one as before. It’s link thats holding me in his arms. Link that’s nuzzling into my hair as he seems to be fighting off tears. That means… That means…
“...Everything was real..?  I - you - it…”
He’s holding me so gently like he’s scared of me disappearing. If what he said is true? I can’t hold  that against him with what he’s said, but even still. I can’t just stay in his arms pretending that him stroking my face with bloodstained hands isn’t bothering me. He’s so happy though and he isn’t hurting me really why don't I just - no I have to tell him that this is making me uncomfortable. 
“All of it, all of it was real [name] and I couldn’t be more glad that it is, because it means that I’m finally here with you.”
“Link…”
“Yes dear?”
… this is all real. I’m actually talking to him. He’s real. And he’s downright obsessed with me. 
“You - you’re still bleeding, you should deal with that and- and with everything.”
I’m not sure that was the right thing to say, but why shouldn’t I not accept him. This isn’t some stranger, it’s Link. One of my first fictional crushes, he’s probably heard the things I’ve said about him; since I’ve said in the past if I got a chance like this that I would take it… why not see where this goes? He looks adorable like this, hopefully, if he stays like this long enough I’ll be able to get the image of him crawling through my tv out of my mind. 
“I - you’re worried about me, love? I - I knew that you’re my soulmate, oh my dear. You're so beyond perfect.”
“We should go get you some bandages Link. I know you’re not quite used to everything yet so I wouldn’t want you to get an infection immediately.”
Yeah, I’m not going to let this chance slip. He’s so much nicer in person, why should I throw this away? He’s perfect and now?
He’s mine.
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