#I was skimming through it because of course I was and it reads like a damn Wikipedia article

[renmedys]

SAY HELLO TO THE ANGELS

higuruma hiromi has killed for the first time and it makes him think of you. (or: now that he has killed, higuruma realizes that his condemnation of you those many years ago was, perhaps, wrong.)

pairing: higuruma hiromi/reader warnings: description of violence & murder, reader is a lil crazy words: 1.7k notes: title namesake is interpol's "say hello the angels"

HIGURUMA thinks of you often. At the heart of all his tolerance and patience and pro-bono work that he does, it’s you who reminds him that there are people worth saving. It’s you who reminds him that protecting the weak and fighting for those who cannot fight for themselves is a noble way of life. It is precisely because of people like you, who show no remorse or shame for the crimes they perpetrate, that he can continue to believe in those who are truly innocent. 

He had… disliked you, the first you met. Hate is too strong a word, and Higuruma makes a point to try and not hate his clients. He remembers being baffled by who you presented yourself to be, there in the detention center, a wall of glass between you. 

When he pulled the chair out, you’d looked up from inspecting your nails, around your wrists a pair of handcuffs that chained you to the table. He knows now that you could’ve broken free of those confines with ease. He saw your eyes rake over Higuruma’s neat suit and pristine appearance until they landed on his face. He watched your eyes flit about in the slightest of  circular movements, tracing the dark circles that had started to build beneath his eyes.

“You’re my lawyer?” you had said with a scornful laugh. 

Higuruma only sighed as he sat down, flipping open the case file he had brought along with him. “(l/n) (y/n),” he read, skimming through it. “You are charged with the murder of three adults and two children at 5:28 PM on March 23. I’ve reviewed your case, and I recommend that your course of action—”

“You think I did it, don’t you?”

Higuruma raises his gaze to yours. You have a crooked grin sitting on your face and a knowing look that makes Higuruma feel like you see right through him. It makes his skin crawl.

“No, I—”

“That’s alright, Mr. Rookie Lawyer,” you chirp. “I did do it. So I’m going to plead guilty.” Higuruma blinked, at a loss for words. “I killed them,” you say again, as if Higuruma didn’t hear you the first time, smiling without a care in the world. “I just wasn’t expecting to get caught.”

Your lawyer’s face was struggling to remain stoic, and you found that notion strangely pleasurable. Behind his eyes, you could tell that he was disgusted with you.

“Why?” he finally asked.

“I wanted to,” you shrugged. “I thought it’d be fun.”

“That’s it?”

“I thought it would make me happy,” you told him, “and isn’t that what life is? The pursuit of happiness.”

“For reasons like that,” he says slowly, “you murdered five people.”

“You look like you don’t know two things about happiness, Mr. Lawyer,” you said, wagging a finger at him. “You can look down on me all you want, but even you can see the difference between us. You’re not happy in that line of work, are you? It’s cute, you know, seeing these public servants preaching goodwill. What brought you to the law, Mr. Lawyer? Vocational calling? Were you one of those kids who thought you could make the world a better place? Did you think you’d be the valiant hero who defends the people wrongly accused? I bet you’re just overjoyed to be defending people like me—”

“Enough.”

Higuruma wanted to leave. The pressure of your gaze and corruption of your soul were the reason his job was so unbearable sometimes. He couldn’t fathom what you were saying. To kill for pleasure, for happiness—sure, he knows that people are twisted and have sick urges, but you believe your worlds so wholly that he cannot be sure any longer that these ideas can be boiled down to delusion. Perhaps some people are, at their core, just horrible beyond repair. 

“You can plead guilty,” he had said, standing to leave. He was wrong to take your case, no matter how desperate he was to get his practice off the ground. He had read your file, and assumed you were one of those people caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. After all, who would think on first glance you had the capacity to rip out the hearts of three men and tear apart the bodies of two children? Yet after speaking to you, he realized he was wrong—and even if he wanted to believe, even if he knew defending you was the right thing to do, he could not deny that somewhere deep inside he despised you. “We’ll try and figure out a way to reduce your sentence. You can tell me the order of events in detail another time.”

But he never got the chance to see you again, because the next day he was served with a notice that you’d requested a new lawyer. Your case was open-shut, and the trial lasted barely an hour. He wondered how you could’ve ever been happy perpetrating violence.

Until now, years later, as his client is staring at him with contempt after all of Higuruma’s efforts and sleepless nights scrounging for evidence that would prove his innocence, he hadn’t a clue of what you meant about happiness. This case isn’t his fault. Higuruma Hiromi is not to blame for the gavel that is about to hand down his client’s sentence. The anger and hatred for the actions of higher authorities he is subjected to is not deserved. A man he worked tirelessly for, a man he believed in, a man for whose sake he had shown time and time again he would not give up on now looks at him with a stare that is icier than yours, and it fills him with a rage Higuruma doesn’t know how to calm. The ramblings of the court proceedings turn into garbled static as blood rises to his head. When he hears silence, Higuruma stands and demands a retrial on the spot.

In that moment, he wonders if killing them would make him happy.

HIGURUMA finds you in the same prison he first met you. The Culling Games had begun not long ago, and it’d been mere hours since he spent all his points on a new rule and transferred the remainder to Itadori Yuuji. Now that the onslaught of aggressors out for his life finally seemed to calm, he resumed his search for your whereabouts. The prison is within the boundaries of the colony he’s currently in, and when he arrives he finds the grounds desecrated by blood and ravaged bodies. He sees the decapitated head of a guard lying on the stone floor. For you to have survived—and he’s sure you have—you must be a strong jujutsu sorcerer. That makes your easy submission to the conviction of your crime those many years ago all the more puzzling.

In the chaos, most of the convicts escaped. Higuruma walks through empty hallways and pries open jammed doors, climbing over fallen rubble. He had half expected you to be gone as well, but he finds you in one of the cells, lying on the floor. With your hands behind your head, you look as if you’re on a grassy hill cloud watching, eyes closed in content.

“It wasn’t you,” is the first thing Higuruma says to you. This much is now clear with his newfound abilities.

“No,” you hum. “It was the curse I was there for.”

It makes more sense that way. “Are you one of them?” he asks. “Those sorcerers?”

You laugh. “No, no. Not for a long time now. Since even before I met you.”

“Ah.”

“So, why seek me out, Mr. Lawyer? You need some wisdom in this new world of yours?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I wanted to ask you something.”

You crack open an eye to peek at him. “I think I can guess what about.”

“Why did you plead guilty? You didn’t do it.”

Shrugging, you feel your shoulders brush against the concrete. “I wanted to see what it would be like.”

“That’s all?” he asks quietly.

“Isn’t wanting to enough justification?” you ask. Then you click your tongue. “I guess maybe not to a lawyer.”

“But you’re innocent.”

“For that crime, maybe. But I’ve killed before, for the same reasons I told you back then. And what about you, Mr. Lawyer? Are you still innocent?”

Higuruma lowers himself to the floor, sitting against a chunk of rock outside your cell. “No,” he says quietly. “No, I’m beyond saving, I think. When this is all over, I’m going to turn myself in.”

“Now why would you do that?” you tut, and Higuruma thinks it’s ironic you’d say that. Despite the ceiling and walls of your confines being blown apart and merely the remains of a wreckage, you act as though you are still trapped, not leaving. You’ve also willingly turned yourself in. 

“You've killed people too, (y/n)-san.”

“Plenty,” you confirm.

“I couldn’t understand you back then, when you said that you thought it might make you happy.”

“You still can’t, Mr. Lawyer.” His eyebrows raise slightly. “When you killed those people, how did you feel?”

You sit up now, turning your body towards him. Higuruma knows you’re a killer, and he figures that you could probably kill him in the blink of an eye. There’s no fear, though. He feels strangely calm in your presence, and it reminds him of all the cases he fought where he thought back to you. People who do not want to be saved cannot be. So all the other clients he had over the years, who pleaded innocent and needed someone to trust them—Higuruma knew that there was a chance for them to be absolved. You taught him that.

His eyes fall to the floor. “It felt awful.”

You let out a gentle laugh, retreating into the corner as you lay back down on the concrete, rolling onto your side so that your back faces Higuruma. “Then there’s still hope for you yet, Higuruma. You’re a lawyer, aren’t you? Protecting the weak is your job. Go.”

Higuruma seems somewhat moved by your words, and it is the first time he hears his name in your voice. He stands and dusts himself off. “After this, (y/n)-san, what will you do?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” you tell him. “I’ll stay here, probably. At least until the games are over.”

“I’ll come back,” Higuruma then says, and this time it is his turn to catch you by surprise.

“Why bother?”

Higuruma’s lips curve upward slightly. “I just want to,” he says, and the sound of his fading footsteps make you wish that perhaps you had lived a more righteous life.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #higuruma hiromi #higuruma hiromi x reader #slight yearning #slight romance #grief and guilt #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #renmedys

[genshindsau]

The second you step into your room, you pause. Your hand tightens around the door handle as you take in the figure lounging comfortably on the couch, feet propped up and everything.

"Enjoying yourself?" You close the door behind you.

"I'm getting my well deserved rest." The figure quipped back, crossing their legs as they set down a glass of wine on the small table in front of the couch.

"And pray tell, what did you do that justifies sneaking into my room and drinking my wine?" You shrugged off your outer layer of clothes as you moved towards the couch, tossing them over the back of a chair.

"I freed up your time," Al-Haitham motioned towards the desk in your room with his free hand. It was much cleaner and there were three neat stacks of paper on your desk, each larger than the next.

"Saved you from having to read such drivel reports." He stood up, smoothing his clothes out as he walked to the desk - and closer to you. "Tell me, why is it the future empress's responsibility to read about such nonsense? Small town thievery? Marriage drama in neighboring lands? Don't they realize you have actual problems to worry about."

The side of your mouth quirks up. "Are you offering?"

Al-Haitham let out a soft hum, his head tilting to the side as if he was considering it. He wasn't. "Of course not. My brain would leak out of my ears."

You consider his words. He's not that far off.

"Such a shame." You muse. You lift up a few reports off one of the piles and skim through them. "For someone who says it was such a drag, you sure did a detailed job. I wouldn't even go this in-depth with my replies."

"Just because I don't enjoy it doesn't mean I am not give it everything."

He stepped around the desk so that he was now standing next to you. His head tilts to look over you and at the reports, his head nearly resting on your shoulder.

"Sounds exhausting. You do that for all your work?" You set the paper back onto the desk. 

A noncommittal sound leaves his mouth. "Well most of the time I enjoy my research."

You can feel his eyes flicker to look at you.

"I enjoy the work you let me do."

You let out a soft snort.

"Is that so?" You turn to face him. Your hip resting against the side of the desk.

"So are you going to tell me why you did all this? Or was it just because you were feeling kind."

Al-Haitham was the one to let out a snort this time.

"I can't just do a good deed?"

You stared at him, your eyes narrowing. He kept his eyes on your face as he suppress the quirk of his lips.

"Sure, you could. But you don't. You always have an alterior motive so what is it?"

Al-Haitham stared at you for a moment before his head turned to the side and his shoulders lifted in a shrugging motion.

"I cleared up some of your time and you question my intentions," he let out a small sigh before turning around and moving back to the sofa, propping his feet on the table. His eyes flickered to the empty spot next to him before looking back at you. "You're too suspicious."

You blink at him under the cloth wrapped around your eyes. Once. Twice. 

"It comes with the territory," You state blankly. You move away from your desk.

"Now aren't the others having some kind of celebration. If I remember correctly, you're suppose to be the guest of honor - it's your birthday isn't it?"

Al-Haitham let out an amused sound. "I stopped by: made my entrance. Thanked them. I didn't exactly want to spend my birthday surrounded by the others."

"No because apparently you'd rather be doing work that you don't have to." You shake your head softly. "Is that how you got out. By saying there was work I needed you to do?"

Al-Haitham stared straight ahead, his face angled away from you as you moved to rest on the couch. The cushion dipped as you sat down.

"It is, isn't it?"

"Well it's not like you wouldn't assign work to be done on someone's birthday. Besides, they didn't see anything off with what I said. In fact some of them looked exceedingly happy that there was no longer a celebration."

You let out a breath of air, your head falling back to rest on the back of the couch. "I wonder why that is."

You both know why: ever since joining the harem, Al-Haitham never cared to get close to the others. In fact, he barely paid them any attention aside from being cordial in public.

Al-Haitham just shrugged his shoulders, slumping back against your couch and turning his head to look at you. His hair falls over his eyes, brushing against his skin in a way you wish you're fingers were. The corner of his lips curled up, his eyes drooping as he stared at you, a glit in his eyes. He knows the effect he has on you.

"Besides, there's only one gift I would like for my birthday. One that no one else could give me," he murmured, his voice soft. "Though that's mainly because you wouldn't allow anyone too."

"Is that so?" You shift on the couch. Your fingers scratch at the skin underneath the cloth tied around your eyes. "Maybe I could be persuaded?"

Al-Haitham stared at you, numerous emotions flashing through his eyes before they hardened. He tucks his legs underneath his bottom on the cushion so that his body is faced towards you. One of his hands lifts to slide over your waist, gliding up until its positioned above your shoulder, gripping the cushion behind your head. His body raises with his movements until he's leaning over you.

"I don't want to persuade you. I want you to take me out of my clothes," he lifts one leg, moving it to rest on the outside of your other leg so he is settled on your lap, hovering over you. "And have your way with me." His hands grip the cushions behind your head as he ducks his head, his breath mixing with your own.

His nose brushes against your own and he is close enough that you hear his breath hitch as your hands brush over his clothed thighs before they settle around his hips. One hand skims up his body until it cups his neck and you feel the soft caress of his hair against your fingers.

You watch as his eyes dilate, the subtle relaxation in his shoulders as your grip tightens around the nape of his neck. His eyelids flutter and his lips part, his pink tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

Your own lips curl at the reaction. Most of your consorts and concubines are never this straight-forward; but Al-Haitham has never had that problem. He is more than happy to say what he wants and he doesn't shy away from the reactions of his body.

His hips roll on your lap, rubbing the growing arousal against your stomach.

Your hand tightens around the nape of his neck as you whisper out, "very well then." You tug him down, finally closing the small gap as your lips slide over his. A wanton moan leaving his lips and you eagerly swallow the sound.

#genshin au #consort au #empress au #c:empress #genshin x reader #c:al haitham

[caesarsaladinn]

guy who has learned about 20th century proxy wars exclusively from the scores of pages of exposition on them in the machine translated novel adaptation of Metal Gear Solid V

and it doesn’t distinguish between real events and fake ones, so best of luck to him

#I was skimming through it because of course I was and it reads like a damn Wikipedia article #mgs #it’s 3:30am I cannot sleep #and it ain’t because the writing quality is too gripping to put down.

[nerdie-faerie]

I literally had a meeting with my professor today about these upcoming assignments where she stressed to me not to get distracted and keep it narrow, right? I sat there and explained that I want to include this and I think this is related but I'm worried that it's not strictly relevant and will lead to me getting distracted which I do not have room for in my word count and she looked at me like 'yeah obviously? like why are you bringing it up if you already know thats whats going to happen?' because the issue isn't that I don't know what the problem is, I'm well aware of my problems, the issue is that knowing isn't enough to prevent it. I need you to tell me that I'm right in this assessment and that I definitely cannot include all of that. I need strict parameters because I cannot be trusted

#Uni shenanigans #ace is a mess #i have two assignments for this class one is a research poster on a topic of my choosing related to my course with a word count of 300-700 #words. very limited word count. the other is a reflective essay in which im supposed to reflect on improvements ive been given on my #assignments from first semester identify said issues the research behind them and make a plan for how to improve upon them right? #so im doing comorbidities for the research poster and doing my tendancy to be overly ambitious with my goals which leads to me not being #able to give each point the attention it needs which results in a lack of details cus id rather include a dozen citations than develop two #cus i convince myself theyre all relevant and necessary which isnt entirely accuratre #and despite knowing that this is a reoccurring issue for me that im literally doing an assignment on i cannot stop myself from doing so #we talked through the research poster and the issues im having keeping it focused cus i dont know whats most relevant to include and her #giving me pointers of what to do what to keep and whats too far from the topic to be keepable and then she asked what i was doing my essay #on again? and was like ah yes that okay i can see why youre doing thats definitely relevant to you #she did tell me that my research is always good that thats not one of the issue that i am having that others have and its like yeah because #this is how i am i get distracted and thats with only skimming the article and reading only the abstract in details i am incapable of #staying limited and now im posting on tumblr about it so as to not get sucked down another research rabbit hole cus i dont know how to not

[moonalumi]

getting fucked by ellie in every position all during one round <33

bc fucking ellie in only one position is not enough when she looks so hot n is so good, always

warnings- horndog ellie, strap on sex (r receiving), eating out ( r receiving), scissoring/ tribbing, dom!ellie, sub!reader, sub!ellie for like one sec, rough messy sex like rrly messy, manhandling, squirting, breeding kink, degrading names slut, bitch, ellie calls strap her dick like once

this is actually filthy so like read at your own risk

innocent couch cuddling sesh; that’s it right? no, never with ellie. not with her hands skimming up and down your body. well, it was lovingly at first but her fingertips getting more and more grabby the longer she caress your curves. turning your chin, she kisses you. kisses you reallllll good. lips sucking in your bottom lip, tongue asking for permission to be let in. saliva covering your mouths. that kind of kiss that ellie knows gets you right where she wants you. under her.

“gnna put it in babe okay?” ellie asks, her breath fanning your neck as her tip slips into you.

“shut up just hurry” you mumble as you take ahold of her strap and push it inside you. ellie smirks at your desperation and the little moans you let out as she pushes deeper and deeper until her tip hits your cervix.

sighing contently at the feeling of just being full of her. that’s until she pulls out and rubs at your clit with her thumb.

“ellieee go back in pleaseee puh lease, inside!” you whine, inching your hips closer to her.

“i know i know, just wanna make sure she’s ready” ellie then spreads your folds and before you know it, strings of her spit are running down, collecting at your hole.

a whine of her name and ohmygod… ellie thrusts back into you, roughly grabbing the back of your thighs and lifting them up to your chest. that whine of her name turns into a scream at the sudden intrusion. your body jerking up and up at each slam of her hips that’s digging her strap inside you.

“ugh uah mmm el- lie… tooo de-ep” you can barely form a sentence, she’s just going so fast all you can focus on is how she’s in and out in and out.

“you feel me in your tummy? ohmf fuckkk l-look babe”

ellie guides your chin down to look at the imprint of her strap bulging out from inside you. that sight alone causes your eyes to roll back, head hitting the seat of the couch as you lay back again and your back to arch.

the rougher ellie slams into you, the more you get pushed up the couch until your head hits the jagged wooden arm rests of it. head hitting it over and over again as she thrusts in.

“owww oof el…”

“yeah…y-yeah shut up take it take it” she mutters through her thrusts.

“ellie!” you have to sit up and yell to get her attention. confused eyes scanning your face until she sees you rubbing your head.

“oh shit m’sorry baby” a quick peck to your forehead and she’s now kneeling on the floor, flipping you over and bending you over the couch. your face all smushed in the pillows of it.

she’s quick to push back into you again and pound you as she pleases without your complaining; or so she thought because the endless muffled whines and begs asking her to slow down or that she’s too deep just causes her to grip your ass and force you to meet her thrusts.

“thought you wanted it now your complaining it’s too much? just take it, know you can.”

“oh goddd elll… mmhp ellie ellie ellie”

that’s all you can muster up. brain going blank and all you can say is her name. all you can feel is her filling you. the only sounds in the room being the constant smack smack smack of your skins hitting, the sound of your pussy squelching, and of course the sound of heavy breaths, moans, and ellie muttering filth in your ears as always.

“filling this pussy up, you feel that? gonna get you fucking pregnant….what a slut i betchu like that”

“say my name bitch, let everyone know who’s fucking you right now”

“taking care of her so well i can hear ‘er…godamn you’re so wet, just love getting fucked like this don’t you?”

tears threatening to spill down your eyes, choked moans at every particular harsh slam to your cervix.

ellie’s thrusts stutter and lose rhythm n she’s grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of her as she lays back on the floor. strong hands bouncing you up and down on that strap.

loud moans fall from your lips at the sudden change of positions again, you hold onto her skinny but muscular thighs for leverage. digging your nails into them.

“shit babe—ohh nnnghm fuck! you’re never this loud”

you can even put enough thoughts together in your brain to answer her. just mindlessly fucking yourself onto ellie. n she’s just as fucked out as you are. needy hands gripping and smacking your ass as it jiggles all in front of her eyes. those eyes that roll back as the base of the strap rubs against her throbbing clit.

“ride it baby just like that… mm fuck me” ellie’s voice turning whinier by the second. she notices your bouncing slowing down and she lifts you up n practically slams you back on the couch. she’s just manhandling and throwing you around wherever she wants at this point.

spreading your legs and putting them on her shoulders; shes back inside you. thrusting even more ferociously. those sloppy wet lips of hers kissing and licking up and down your neck, jaw, everywhere she can reach. her groans and breaths getting louder and louder. even letting out a little whimper here and there.

“i love you so much” you breathlessly whisper, shaky arms wrapping around her neck to pull her closer.

ellie’s lips find yours, capturing them in a tongue filled messy kiss. your moans seeping into the kiss as she trys to burry herself deeper; if that’s even possible, if she had balls she’s actually be balls deep.

but els always finds a way. she pulls away from the kiss and forcefully lifts your hips up and off the cushions.

“i love you more, mmpf shittt take this dick” holding you up, she fucks you like her life depended on it.

“ohmygod e-llieee” you moan and push on her lower stomach to get her to pull out some inches just a bit. that’s until she hits that spot and you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure every sense of yours just shuts down and all you can feel is those bolts of pleasure running down your body and hit your clit.

back arching into her, legs shaking on her shoulder n you’re gushing and covering her strap with your cum.

ellie’s own orgasm approaching but she just can’t get there. frustrated, she throws her strap off herself and fucks her clit against yours. all during your high so instead of creaming all over her dick you cover her pussy in your slick.

“baby baby mmm i’m gnna cum—” couple more circles around your clit and her hips are jerking, face scrunching up in that cute orgasm face she always puts on, n her pretty moans and whines are spilling from her agape jaw.

with your eyes fuzzy you watch as she coats your cunt with her babies. ellie falls ontop of you; your sweaty tired bodies resting for a moment til—

“hold’up m’not done—gotta clean you up” you don’t even process what she said or what’s she’s doing until you feel her tongue against your sensitive clit.

you gasp and squirm away, but she chases after you, following wherever you move like her mouth is actually attached to your cunt.

“no no els it’s too—mm!” you shriek at the feeling of her sucking your clit in n tongue moving in circles. it rrly is all too much you can feel every little movement and groove of her tongue. you attempt to push her head away but she latches her arms around your thighs and moves her head side to side. her eyes squeezing shut at the taste of you and her combined.

you squeeze around her head n lift up off the couch again, squirming every which way to escape that mouth of hers. even pulling her hair and roughly pushing her head away isn’t getting her off.

“m’not stopping til you cum again if you really want me to stop say the safeword” she mumbles all muffled into your pussy then continue her attacks.

“i cant cum ellie! it’s too muchhh” you whine but ohh her tongue pushing in you and her lil button nose rubbing your clit has got you over the edge again so quickly.

instead of pushing her away you push her face deeper into you. tugging on her hair as spurts of squirt dribble from your pussy all over her lips and chin.

ellie moaning into your folds and finally detaching herself and wiping her face clean with the back of her hand.

“m’sorry love i couldn’t help myself” ellie mutters as she lays and nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck. pulling a blanket over you two.

“it’s okay” you whisper while catching your breath, “it just hurts now, n it’s so wet i feel dirty”

“well take a bath together babe just- can we lay here for a bit..m’so tired” ellie’s voice trailing lower.

“that’s your fault you put me in like 7 different position all in ten minutes” you say giggling and kissing her forehead.

“mmph shut up” ellie whines and stuffs her face in your neck. she’s just so cute you can help but kiss her all over her face <33

#ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams fic #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #the last of us #elliensfw #jackson ellie #seattle ellie #farm ellie #santa barbara ellie #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #dom!ellie

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Questions I Ask My Beta Readers

"Did you like it?" just doesn't cut it when you're trying to get useful feedback, so here's some questions that get your reader really thinking about your work:

What are your general impressions after reading? How did you feel when the book ended? 

(For fantasy/sci-fi) What did you find most confusing about the world? What did you find the most interesting? What do you want to know more about? 

Were there any scenes that broke your suspension of disbelief? Which ones? Why?

Which chapters were the hardest to get through? Did you find yourself skimming the text at any point in the story? 

Which character was your favorite? Which was your least favorite? Why? (Note that this question is best when asking multiple readers. If one person really dislikes a character, it could be personal preference. If multiple people can't stand a character for the same reason.... well, that's a problem you need to fix. Unless, of course, you want your readers to hate that character. Just make sure that their hatred enhances the reading experience instead of ruining it).

Did you get any characters confused or mixed up? If so, did this make the story hard to follow?

What was the most suspenseful moment in the book? What was your favorite moment of the story? What was your least favorite moment in the story? Why?

Which setting in the book was clearest to you as you were reading it? Which setting was the most difficult to envision?

Did you feel there was a lot of info dumping at any point? If so, where?

How do you feel about the plot? Were there any parts that confused you or seemed nonsensical/ illogical?

Did you feel any part of the story was predictable? Do you have any predictions for the next book(s)? If so, what are they? (Again, another question that's best when asking multiple readers. Be aware of your audience here. Some people, especially those who read a lot, are really good at predicting where stories are going to go. If those people are able to guess what happens next, that might actually be a good thing, because it could indicate that your story is progressing logically. Too much predictability is a problem, but a little isn't bad. This question is just to make sure the plot twists/progression aren't painfully obvious to most readers).

What plot holes did you find in the story so far? 

Were you invested in the story? If so, at what point did you become invested? Did you lose this interest at any point? (The second point here is really good for determining whether you have a slow beginning. Sometimes readers might really like your story overall, but would not have gotten past the first few chapters if they were reading it for fun instead of as a favor for you. This happened to me last time I asked someone to read my work, and it made it clear how much of the beginning I needed to rewrite entirely).

Any other questions or comments? 

#creative writing #writing #novel writing #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing advice #writing community #fantasy writer #fantasy writing #writer stuff #on writing #writer #writeblr #writing problems #writerscommunity #fantasy novel #fiction #novel editing #novel #beta reader

[myuroll]

one album, countless memories — gojo x fem!reader summary: your kids find an album of photos of you and satoru from highscool till now, you decide to explain all the silly lil stories you have fluff, crack, established relationship (married), you have two kids, dad!gojo, reader is called mommy/seen as a mother figure, a lil angst, maybe weird pacing..?

i liked the idea i had until i executed it..this isn't my best work (っ◞‸◟ c) CHOSO MAYBE NEXT (dont trust me)

wc: 1.3k

when the kids began to learn to crawl, they were already exploring every nook and cranny of the house. if a cabinet was open, you could bet they'd squeeze inside and drool over every item they found.

at one point you and satoru found yourselves panicking around the house because the baby had mysteriously vanished. as it turned out, they had sought refuge in a laundry basket and slept soundly.

now, at the ages of two and three, nothing has changed. their adventure-loving mindset has only grown stronger. so, when you felt a gentle tug on your clothes and looked down, you saw none other than your kids attempting to hold up a thick, hard-covered book—the album.

“mommy mommy! wook what we found!” exclaimed aoi, your three-year-old.

“ooo, let mommy see,” you responded, crouching down to their height and picking up the album from them.

“picthuresh!” added haru, your two-year-old, with excitement, raising his chubby little hands.

you couldn't help but chuckle at his adorable enthusiasm as you skimmed through the first few pages of the album. nostalgia washed over you as you relived your high school memories.

"do you want me to tell you stories about these pictures?" you asked gently, a warm smile on your face.

your kid gasped excitedly, you could practically see the stars in their eyes at your suggestion.

"yesh! yesh!" haru exclaimed, eagerly nodding his head. then he asked, "daddy too?"

"of course! let's go get daddy then, okay?"

they nodded enthusiastically, and you took aoi's hand while haru sprinted as fast as his short, stubby legs would carry him to satoru's office.

before you knew it, you found yourself on the cozy couch in satoru's office, sitting next to him with the kids happily nestled in your lap, and the album held in front of you.

"which one do you want to know about, kiddo?" satoru asked, helping the kids flip through the album.

their giggles grew louder as they stumbled upon a peculiar picture of a familiar white-haired man. you couldn't help but join in on the laughter as you laid eyes on the photo.

"thish one! thish one!" the kids exclaimed in unison, their little fingers eagerly pointing at the picture.

"oh my god, i totally forgot about this!" you exclaimed, scanning the two pages filled with pictures from your day at the beach, which happened to be near a waterpark.

in the picture, water gushed and flowed through the waterslides with thousands of twists and turns. however, the main focus of the photo was a pink waterslide, and there, stiff as a board, sat satoru. the caption underneath, written in fine handwriting, read: "when satoru got stuck in the waterslide… 2006/06/11."

"do we really have to talk about… that one?" satoru sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

“daddy, back then was very annoying, you know! he wanted to go on that slide no matter how many times we warned him that he would be too big, and then he got stuck!” you recounted, giggling.

"hey!" satoru quickly turned his head towards you, feeling insulted. "i was just…ambitious! i didn't realize the slides would be that tiny!" he defended himself.

"daddy wash fat?!?!"

aoi's innocent and genuine words caused you to burst into uncontrollable laughter. your eyes crinkled at the corners, and a wide, amused smile adorned your face. meanwhile haru gasped as if aoi had just solved all the mysteries of the universe.

"nononono! daddy was strong!" satoru protested, shaking his hands and head frantically. "daddy is strong!"

you couldn't help but let out a hearty chuckle at satoru's attempts to salvage his image in front of the kids. however, haru stared at him with a blank expression, still shocked by the revelation, while aoi looked at him suspiciously, unsure whether to believe him or not.

"let's just move on…" satoru grumbled reluctantly, flipping the pages until something caught their attention.

“wooow! mommy wooks pwetty in thish one,” aoi exclaimed, awestruck by the wedding pictures, with haru nodding eagerly in agreement.

"she does, doesn't she?" satoru replied dreamily, his gaze fixed on the photographs.

blushing, you couldn't help but giggle shyly in response to the compliment. you leaned in and planted kisses on their cheeks, while whispering a quiet 'thank you.'

"whath are you doing...there?" haru asked curiously, tilting his head cutely.

you looked at the two pictures, one capturing you reading your vows and the other showing satoru reading his own. this caption read: ‘they did! 2014/05/21’

"we were our reading vows. it's like making a promise to each other," you explained to them.

"and i remember mommy's vows quite well! hmmm...what was it?" satoru teased, 'i love you with my whole heart, with a passion that can't be expressed in words. with you, i have found my home–'"

"stoppp!!! that's so corny…" you interrupted, placing one hand over satoru's mouth and the other partially covering your face. "i never said that! daddy is a liar!!"

you could feel satoru's smile growing beneath your hand as your face flushed with embarrassment. in response, he playfully nibbled the palm of your hand, causing you to squeal and retract it from his mouth.

"satoru!" you squealed, wiping your hand on the couch. haru and aoi burst into giggles, thoroughly entertained by their parents' antics.

with a playful side-eye directed at satoru, you continued to flip through the pages of the album as your kids oooo'd and aahh's at various photos before pointing to one they wanted to know more detail about.

"oooo, hamshther!" haru exclaimed excitedly.

"sweetie, that's a rat," you gently corrected, and haru's face twisted into a look of disgust.

in the picture, you and satoru appeared as blurry figures, running around in fear and disgust, while suguru held the rat up to the camera by its tail (you could see a glimpse of shoko's pinky in the right corner of the photo). this time, the caption read: "we found the rat. 2006/07/02."

"ewwww!" aoi expressed her disdain, scrunching her face adorably.

"a rat had somehow snuck into mommy's dorm, and shoko and her lost where it went! so, of course, mommy asked her knight in shining armor to find it!" satoru boasted, pointing to himself with his thumbs, "i had no choice but to save my princess!"

you playfully rolled your eyes and lightly hit him on the shoulder, leaning down to whisper into aoi's and haru's ears as satoru continued to gloat. "it really wasn't that cool, trust me."

the kids giggled at the information but acted oblivious to satoru's boasts, staring at him with starry eyes and admiration. however, a shiver ran down your spine as you remembered you and satoru on the couch, getting up to grab snacks, and shoko spotting the dead rat right where you had been sitting moments before.

"who ish thath?" haru innocently and curiously asked, pointing at the jet-black-haired man with a bun tied up, one strand in front and a calm yet cheeky smile— suguru geto.

satoru's features softened into a sweet but bittersweet smile as he gazed at the man his daughter had pointed out.

"he's my best friend."

"can we meeth him one day?" aoi asked excitedly.

"maybe, he lives far away now," satoru responded, and you discreetly reached behind the kids to hold his hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

"awww… okay…" aoi replied with a hint of sadness and a small pout.

before you knew it, the rest of the day had slipped away in a flurry of giggles, snickers, and nostalgic conversations with your kids. satoru had just finished recalling another story with suguru (as per aoi's request and haru's encouragement), and you couldn't help but notice how they leaned on each other, peacefully asleep. soft, gentle snores filled the air, adding to the adorable scene.

smiling tenderly, you and satoru exchanged a knowing glance, silently acknowledging the moment. satoru discreetly took his phone from his pocket and captured a picture of the heartwarming sight.

just another picture for the album.

#myu writes ꪆৎ ˚⋅ #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojo

[bloodcasket]

“ EASY, BABY ”⋆ ﾟ☾

PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Pure NSFW (descriptive smut), Age gap centered!! (Death Island! Jill), Female described reader, Dom!Jill, Sub!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, reader described as more inexperienced than Jill (nothing too specified), innocence kink, fingering, finger sucking, tribbing, panty play, dirty talk, jill just loves to praise, teasing on Jill’s behalf, a lil bit of manhandling. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!

WORD COUNT: 7.4K+

DESCRIPTION: The whole department and crew is out for celebration at a restaurant. As Jill sits amongst the table, she spots the new girl, young and timid, giving shy glimpses from across the table.

AUTHORS NOTE: SUPERR rusty after lack of writing for a couple of months now, really hoping this satisfies because Jilly bean doesn’t get enough fics written about her. Let me know if there’s any mistakes, please and thank you! (I’m so normal for her, i promise). Took me too long to finish, and i got lazy toward the end.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with any of the men sitting around you, feeling forced to pry out fake enjoyment and formulate fraudulent smiles at any of their cheesy comments.

They were all grown and lax, after all, middle-aged and experienced, their worries about leaving bad impressions left long ago after years of regulating bioterrorism. They just simply didnt care, and tonight was meant to be jubilant, after all. It was a way to congratulate the team for arriving back home in one piece. Clank glasses of iced bourbon and smile after the weeks of prolonged misery and uncertainty.

It had only been a few minutes that you sat, waiting at this table, the celebratory event making you feel like the black sheep.

A timid, young stranger, her shoulders hunched in discontent, and her expression nonchalant as she sat alongside the chairs of older individuals, ones who laughed and cheered, shook hands and grinned with their cheeks shaded crimson, wrinkles creasing around the shape of their eyes.

It was people who worked drastically to make the trip to Alcatraz bearable, and handled more experience within this field. Something you felt you lacked. Something you saw yourself unequal to, off putting. In other words, even undeserving.

Employment under “The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance” was nearing a few months now for you, but your line of work strayed far from any defensive units, due to your familiarity with the information management department. You organized required files and handled technological tasks under supervisors order, you weren’t genuinely handling firearms and terminating undead like the others were within the BSAA. You were simple, and did your part, participation with higher-ups was foreign.

The invitation to come here was optional, of course, but your ripe desire to see a certain woman was hard to swallow. After several days of trying to deny yourself this opportunity, the denial became fruitless, and you finally succumbed; which leads you to sitting at this lengthy dining room table, shuffling in discomfort and trying best to bite back any resurfacing regret.

It’s a restaurant, aromas conjoining in the air, certain scents collecting that it perplexes you. The whisks of alcohol burn through your nostril hairs—your lip twitches in discontent, jaw soon slacking as fragrances of broth and caramelized delicacies fog around you. You scrunch your face and twist your cute nose, huffing in the perfumes of delight.

It was all so overwhelming, and yet you had barely done anything yet sit and spend a few minutes skimming the menu—fiddling with your hands on the table when you yearned for a distraction. And yet; another server hurries past your seat, wide platters in hand, a trail of aromatics left in his wake. Drool draws upon your impatient tongue, you wondered how much longer it would take.

“Jill, didn’t think you’d make it”, a male voice chimes, you're able to single it out amongst the banter of the public place, trying best to listen as other residents at the table mumble out tipsy-tainted sentences, snortling and getting themselves comfortable as they slosh down fancy cocktails.

The timid position in which you kept yourself in the moment you sat down at this table seems to have been disoriented, a stiffness residing down the arch of your neck as you lift your head and adjust your eyes to your surroundings.

Dimly lit, and silken curtains are drawn over windows for the evening, you blink a few times to observe across the table, eyes stretching past messy cutlery, and halfway bubbling glasses. You blink again, throat moving slowly as you swallow dryly.

Under tinted yellow light, she sits. She’s shaking her head, exaggerating a huff of exhaustion as she edges her seat closer to the table. Brunette hair is silken and syrupy brown, a few strands askew from where she let the hair descend down her face and tickle the middle of her neck, the vision filling you with exhilaration.

‘Jill Valentine’, you suddenly think, watching as she’s easing herself more comfortably into the seat, shaded heels of her boots sliding forward as she pushes her legs apart, elbows jutting against the hickory surface that you oh-so-admired for several minutes straight. She’s hunched over improperly, wrapped up in a gray woolen cardigan, not caring much for table manners. A heat brewed low in the pit of your stomach.

“Had to finish my report, it was a pain in the ass”, her adjacent partner seems to love this reaction—being that he chuckles shortly afterward, “would prefer if you took it off my shoulders next time”.

“Your responsibility”, he replies nonchalantly, Chris Redfield from what you remember, a known operator within the BSAA. He was respected largely by his peers, a man with his time spent sacrificing and protecting, all for the benefit of “greater good”. You couldn’t say much about him, you couldn’t say much about anyone to be quite frank, except for one person. His partner in crime.

Needless to say, you scrounged through your closet for hours one night to pull out piles of clothes in desperate search to find something presentable for this woman. Bouncing your eyes back and forth over different varieties of garments, torturing yourself over the delusional manifestation that you’ll attract Jill Valentine tonight.

Intimidating. Most would plaster that description over her if it was all for first impressions. A 41 year old military woman who can carry her guns just as wonderfully as she can carry her foul language. She’s blunt, and by no means patient due to certain circumstances, but with the small moments she’s managed to pass alongside you, the tiny things don’t go unnoticed.

Coincidentally, you bump into her in the lobby; she’d chuckle jovially, waving one hand toward you dismissively as you ramble out apologetic gibberish. Reassuringly telling you “it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it”.

You’re heading toward a file room? She’ll catch you in the halls, velvet lips upturned into a gentle grin as she greets you with your name slipping off her tongue, blue eyes narrowed down at you in an observant manner. She remembers the little details, remembers you.

To say it was innocent appreciation was incorrect. It was an attraction, and the more your female superior managed to cross paths with you, the more you felt the warmth in your stomach churn and twist. It embarrassed you, to say the least. Jill Valentine was probably an individual with her priorities straight, and here you were, grinding your thighs together as you squirm uncomfortably in your seat, front teeth gnawing on the swell flesh of your bottom lip. You looked ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Ogling an older woman as if she were some high school crush. Where were your priorities?

Heaps of chestnut hair suddenly color your vision, blocking your delicate view as a head leans forward to inch closer to the woman you admire, “Here Jill, saved your drink until you got here”, her voice is flowery and feminine, a tinge of nasal sweetness at the end of her chirping sentences. “Glad to see you”. You almost envy her in this moment.

“Thanks, Claire”, a pale palm wraps around the transparent glass, pearls of condensation glistening on Jill’s lengthy fingertips, her nails clumsily trimmed, and beaten hands calloused from her work. You feel your breath hitch at the sight, cotton mouthed as you watch.

Tonight was going to be long. Too long, if this was all you were going to think about.

Claire retreats to her original position in the chair, her conversation with the brunette ephemeral as she focuses her attention on another, leaving Jill solemn in her thoughts, curtly nodding to every general word Chris might possibly say. She’s taciturn, and trained on the voice of her adjacent companion.

Without the veil of ember strands shrouding over the woman’s face, you melted in your seat, lethargic and ditzy as you bored your beady eyes into the vision that was just blissfully her.

One sip, then another. Her lips curl around the lip of the glass, swallowing measured amounts of golden whiskey that smell like smoke and peaty.

“We should all get together and go on vacation after all this, think we deserve that much”, Chris suggests this as he wedges his fork into the collops of filet spread along his plate, in which the other hums, her eyes flickering from the pit of her glass and then forward, peering across the table.

Rings of cerulean catch your nosiness, and you feel the organ within your rib cage falter, and then within seconds accelerate, heart racing like a jack rabbit inside your chest. She caught you staring.

She keeps the contact for a few seconds; you’re the one who widens your eyes and cowers into yourself, suddenly pretending that the entree platter of pillowy bread rolls is of much more interest.

You think you’ve gone crazy, due to the slanted, open mouthed smirk she summons on her face, mumbling a few words in reply to the male beside her (which you don’t catch due to how much blood is rushing to your face, head swarmed with internal comments of how utterly humiliated you feel). Nevertheless, the intrigue she displays is clearly prevalent, more so in the way your young face ducked to hide yourself other than the subtle conversation Chris clearly tried to create.

Just as you had foreseen, the night was indeed long and mundane, and your quick glances at the nonchalant beauty sitting opposite of you was practically dangerous, due to how cautious she seemed of her surroundings and every object that crossed her. A habit she carried in her occupation, you supposed. She was by no means incognizant. (It would be a lie if you didn’t at least give one glimpse, though. Maybe two…maybe three).

You can’t recall if it had been an hour or more, but the facade of enjoyment seemed to lose its potency, and perhaps for others as well.

Little by little, the crew took their leave, furred winter coats slung over the slope of their shoulders as they waved and headed out for the night, giving you some trivial excuse to join alongside them. With the bill paid generously in reward for everyone, the crowd migrated out through the exit doors and into the parking lot, the wisps of frosty air breezing past in copious amounts.

You trembled, nails dipped into the lower fabric of your mini dress, trying best to ease it further down your thighs as you cursed yourself for wearing such attire.

‘All that work just to stare at her like a fucking idiot’, and now here you were, with gritted teeth and trembling flesh as you shuffled down the sidewalk in shame, purse hung over your shoulder whilst you made your way home. That is, until the crackling of gravel wound up behind you, tires rolling over cement and bright beams flashing over you as if you were a deer in the headlights. An unfamiliar car slowly approaches beside you, and you stumble in your heels as you halt.

“You waitin’ on someone or something?”, the subdued hum of the engine had synthesized with the husky chuckle that was rightfully Jill’s, “don’t tell me you were actually gonna walk home in that? No jacket?”

An arm is laid firm across the surface of her car door, her head peering out through the window as she leans forward, her expression is practically incredulous. As if she was disappointed in your choice-making, and your lack of self-awareness for the weather and time of night. She thrums her fingers across the door impatiently, other hand gripping her steering wheel as she expects an answer.

“I was just-“, and here’s the flaring heat of humiliation rising once more. Your lips are molded into a solemn line, her glare of ridicule made you feel guilty for not asking for her aid in the first place. “I’m not too far from here- I wouldn’t want to be a bother”. You’re lying through your teeth, and the brunette scoffs as if she already knows.

“Fucking hell, you were actually going to do it? You’re too young to be doing stuff like that”, she jests in a low manner, muttering more so to herself than to you. Her arm slithers back inside the vehicle, head motioning to the empty passenger seat with a quick nod. “Like hell I’m letting you walk home, it’s not safe. I’ll give you a ride. Get in”.

The authority of her tone makes your knees wobbly, and the way she sits back in her seat with her neck craned against the headrest commands urgency. She’s waiting. You feel a lump harden in your throat. She’s waiting for you.

You hasten your little steps, sheepishly opening the car door and sliding inside, whispering with pruned lips how thankful you are for the ride. You’re stiff in the seat next to her, hands folded in the center of your lap; they were numbed from the cold, goosebumps embroidered along your delicate flesh.

“Don’t mention it”, she brushes off the innocent gratitude with a witty shake of her head, vehicle rolling through the asphalt, leaving the parking lot with just a planate flick of the wrist, elongated fingers dipping into the rubberized padding of the steering wheel. You watch from your peripheral, nostrils flaring as you shakily inhale, splashes of soap and freshly cleaned laundry breeze over you, and you relish in it, stomach all filled with butterflies over something as simple as the older woman’s scent.

“Where to, then?”, she inquires with a throaty hum, vision focused on the road ahead of her. She sighs in frustration when you tell her, though she grins in utter amusement, laughing when you deluge her with stuttering apologies over a mere lie.

“Christ. Thought you said you were close?”. She makes a turn, dirt crackling under the wheels as she pulls onto another street.

“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble in shame, hands folding tighter and tighter until your knuckles jut against your skin, your face all flushed. Lower lining of the dress you wore was hiked up your thighs, you felt so exposed and scrutinized alongside her, in her car.

“It’s alright, don’t take me too seriously. New girl, right? I remember. Explains why you’re always so quiet”, Jill continues with the conversation, glimpsing over just for a second to study you before she’s focused again. “You enjoy the place? They had some nice drinks, don’t you think? It wasn’t all too bad”, you frown at her words, a heaviness nested in your chest. You hadn’t really done much tonight at the celebration. Nothing other than ogle at her, eat some bread rolls, and then ogle at her some more.

“I didn’t drink anything really, unfortunately”, admitting this was rather awkward, due to how much desire you held to impress her. Now you just felt inadequate, lackluster. “Too many people I didn’t know, if that makes any sense. I must sound boring, don’t I?”.

“Not even one drink?”, she questions, lips curved up into an open-mouthed grimace as she flutters her eyelashes in teasing surprise. “Free to get whatever you want, and you’re telling me you were too shy to even drink anything?”, and she sneers when you nod, biting down laughter in hopes she could keep you comfortable in her presence. Smile lines deepen around the shape of her mouth, silky lips blessed with a tint of coral, apples of her cheeks glowing with every beguilement grin.

“It doesn’t hurt to celebrate, you know. You work hard, I’ve noticed”, she pauses, considering her next words carefully, not wanting to tread any risky lines, “I’m not that far from my apartment anyway, want to have a drink or two? Think I’ve got some lying around, wouldn’t hurt to get em’ used up”.

Green light hanging up ahead switches rapidly from yellow to red, crimson hue painted over the dashboard and along the height of your body. You’ve sunken a little in the passenger seat, all wide-eyed and panicked when she offers. You open your mouth to answer, but she cuts you off before you could turn the opportunity down.

“Just the two of us, okay? I don’t bite, I promise”, and you swear you’re melting, too convinced. You nod in response, a simple “sure” is all you can hiccup.

‘Maybe all that time ripping apart my wardrobe was worth it?’

Maybe so, because Jill fucking Valentine is moving her lengthy index finger to the left of her steering wheel, flicking on her turn signal without a single ounce of hesitation, and then making a u-turn that can only promise one thing.

The ride to her apartment.

Agreeing was most definitely easier than doing, that was for certain. With the door opening, and her leading the way inside, not only then does it really solidify into reality. One of your leading superiors—a trained operations agent—has driven you back to her apartment to “share drinks” and “celebrate without all the other chatter”. At least that’s what she bargained for in the car.

You’ve politely found purchase on the faux leather cushion of her couch, material beige and smoothened, and you curl into it as you keenly gape around the place.

The condo is fresh, and crisp, organized and minimalistic, but still with a trace that’s so understandably miss valentine.

After hearing about rumors of Jill’s horror in raccoon city, you can almost bet she’s much more at ease now, with her new place, and her new position. Eager to distance from her solemn past.

She’s a workaholic, that’s for sure, multiple rooms in her living space and she’s dedicated one for her research; the door slightly agape, and you can’t help but satiate your curiosity as you squint your eyes and look past the doorknob.

With what little you can see through the crevice, there’s a desk inside with files strewn along the top, corkboard furnished along the wall and vital information pinned to it with colored thumbtacks. Not able to help yourself, a tender smile cracks on your lips as you notice irrelevant stickers plastered along the granulated cork, designs of cats and succulents the older woman has happily put everywhere. Your heart pangs at the innocent gesture, imagining such a stern individual indulging herself with such small and adorable items.

“Do you have a preference? Want anything in particular?”, said woman calls from the kitchen, face astern and a hand pushing the fridge door open. Hastily, you retreat your beady eyes, suddenly feeling impertinent for your sense of wonder. She lists off what she has, but it’s all foreign to you, not making much sense from your lack of alcohol expertise.

“I’m not sure”, you shrug sheepishly, a bashful grin displayed, “anything is fine, really”. ‘Anything that you pick, I’ll drink’, sounds more correct, but you digress.

She reads you like you’re an open book, your naivety and youth all too transparent and sat right on her couch, eyebrows furrowed and hands respectfully folded in your lap. A position she’s noticed you in ever since you were rigid and unsettled in her vehicle. When were you ever going to relax? It filled her with incomprehensible mirth, the way you were.

“You’re quite young, aren’t you?”, Jill teases a little, poking at the spots that make you internally weak as she flashes a knowing smirk, “don’t drink a lot I take it? That’s alright”.

She retrieves two glasses from her cupboard and fills them with her pick as you so kindly advocated, closing the fridge and then sauntering over. She takes her place beside you, the leather sinking from the weight of two, her thigh resting along the couch and the shape of her kneecap brushing against you.

“All yours. Bottoms up”, a throaty chuckle resounds in her throat as she offers the drink, ushering for you to take it into your small hands, in which you oblige with unreadable panic. “Cheers”, she clinks her glass with yours, before she’s reclining into the cushion and swallowing, throat muscles contracting up and down.

You only manage to gulp down a small portion of the beverage, soured reaction shriveling your lips. It wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it was Jill’s, and you found it as well sought after as any nobel prize. This drink, this couch, this moment. This moment with her, even if every lick of the bitter whiskey was deathly, you would still sacrifice every lumpy taste bud just for a second with the woman.

Slowly, she sets the drink down on the coffee table, and you watch her movements carefully. Those hands of hers guide the cardigan off her shoulder blades, shrugging the gray fabric down and onto an armrest with a composed exhale.

What torture it is, your foolish reverence for her. Dirty incalescence ferments between the swell of your thighs, burning and burning once you catch sight of the dip between her chest, cleavage freckled with age and brown moles dotted along her sharpened collarbone. Her tight little blue tank top hiding underneath that damned cardigan this whole time. The fabric is stressed across the seaming of her bust, creased and curled until it dips down and hugs around the frame of her waist. There’s no fucking way you’ll be able to make it through tonight without slipping up.

“You’re brave for working under the organization, no matter what you do. Reminds me of when I first started training, I was around your age too. It’s risky, but I’m sure you already know that”, she bends downward to unlace her coal-shaded boots, tugging the zipper down without an ounce of patience in her.

“You gettin’ along with everybody? How is everything, with the new position and all? I mean, the way you were acting earlier, it makes me worried. If anyone’s screwing with you-”.

“No no no, it’s not like that, I promise”, you cut her off, shaking your head quickly in hopes you could help her understand your viewpoint, in which she glances at you and sits upright. She got you to talk, and if she wasn’t absolutely smug about it.

“Everything is fine, and the department is kind to me. You’ve been very generous too, and I’m thankful. I’m just…still trying to get used to everything”, she bobs her head with acumen, digesting every syllable and stumble of your words, listening maturely. She finds flattery in your compliment toward her, doing best not to grin.

“How is it with, um…you and Chris?”, you ask, and the moment the question slips past your lips, you’re filled with utter regret. What kind of question was that? Valentine raises her eyebrow in bewilderment, shocked by the sudden change in subject. She draws her arm along the head of the couch, manspreading whilst she sits as she pleases, eyes still narrowed with pique and pointed in your general direction.

“Me and Chris?”, the laughter she bellows out is vocal, giggling deeply without much restraint, “we’re partners, is all. We’ve been in this field for a while now.”

The way she carries herself around you is as if she’s known you for years, like this is just some humorous conversation that fills her with interest. She wasn’t this excited to speak at the restaurant, you’ve noted, and it’s heartwarming. You, of all people, have made her soft.

Despite all the liquor she’s consumed tonight, she is still impressively sober, quick to catch on to all your soft spoken words, and averting eyes. Although, her high tolerance, of all things, is not a particular trait of hers that surprises you. It only aids the turmoil that rumbles in your chest; it makes you feel weighed down and heavy, the scent of luxurious usquebaugh lingering on her tongue after every breath she releases.

“I see”, you mumble, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jill rolls her blue eyes, “you’re always apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry about”, the room falls silent, clock that’s hung on her wall ticking as seconds prolong into minutes. That is, until she speaks again.

“What about you? Got a boyfriend? Lay it on me”, and the room feels like it’s suddenly enclosing, the words strangely suffocating, and you refuse to admit your sheer infatuation you bore for her. You shake your head with silence, finding that your speechlessness was a better reply rather than your jumbled words of anxious gibberish. One slip up, and you knew it would be over.

Your fingers tease the constricting dress again, eyes exerting to the way your thighs expand and lay flat on her sofa. The way the material fits you like a glove was sweltering, especially with her obsidian pupils beating down on you, drinking up your every tentative counter.

“So that’s a no”, she snorts at your lack of volume, feeling filled with confidence. “You stare a lot, you know that? I noticed you looking at me all night. I don’t scare you, do I?.”

You shoot your attention toward her now, irises apprehensively rounded and wide, and you feel the world absolutely crumble as you're struck with distress over her admittance. She did notice, after all. How pathetic you must have looked the whole time, peering from the fucking entree platter to her every couple of minutes, so visibly envious whenever anyone uttered a single word to her.

“No, I”-

Your pale lips tremble as they open, an absinthal taste wrought over your tongue and depleting any moisture from your mouth. You try to answer, meek and destroyed from your own clumsy dilemma. How different this could have been, if only you weren’t so gullible when it came to your yearning, now leading yourself into chagrin as you couldn’t keep your eyes away earlier.

“I’m sorry”, you pipe out, “I didn’t mean to”-, and she’s engulfing you, brain all smothered into mush and your body liquidizing to putty under the embrace she ensnares you in. Countless nights you’ve spent imagining how every curve of her lips feels pressed along yours, how they move, how they taste, but absolutely nothing can put into words how beautiful they feel as they swallow up your squeaks of dismay.

She’s crawling forward until she’s got you all laid out underneath her, squirming in your position as you submit to the palm she lays on your chest, a firm push she gives until you’ve gone flat amongst the leather cushion. With her legs now entangled with yours, she’s content, humming into the kiss she’s so rightfully initiated, sharp nose dipping into the velvet skin of your face, and skimming along your cheek with every tilt of her head.

Challenged by inexperience, you try best to keep up with the opening and closing of her mouth she’s laying upon you, her eyes sealed as her lips seemingly can’t control themselves, a hunger you’ve never expected from Jill. Flavors of malt she's got melting from her tongue, intoxicated saliva that’s mixed with yours and creating a slippery concoction between your lips with every thirsting lick she provokes.

“Need some attention? Am I right?”, the brunette separates from the bliss she had solicited, lips detaching with a wet smack so she can inhale sharply. “I’m much older than you, much”-, she huffs, airily snickering at the sight behold just right beneath her, “much fucking older.” She drags the wriggling muscle out from between her teeth and over her lips, collecting the moisture and spit you had so generously lathered over her. To die like this, it would be divine.

You lay dormant and vulnerable to her control, but she had warned you. Her words were not to be taken lightly, but rather, considered. To give up your innocence for such a filthy, wretched moment like this, Jill knew better. But those eyes of yours had begged, pleaded, were filled with desperation. Whatever she had done, or would do, you wouldn’t lament over it—but rather—savor it.

“I know”, you speak up, balancing the shakiness that wracks you. You’ve wanted a moment like this with her, and you refused to let it slip away from the cracks of your fingers when she was so, so close to granting you everything you’ve wished. “I know you are.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Explains all the staring, that goddamn dress during winter for Christ’s sake, all on purpose, I take it, tryna get my attention”, the silver pendant of her necklace dangles above you, circling as if it’s meant to entrance you. “The hell am I going to do with you?.”

The authority that oozes off her foul tongue is like morphine, an opiate you’ve swallowed, it’s addictive and ruins your common sense completely. Innocent eyes flicker back and forth, your jaw now slack as you can’t focus between the heat swirling in her pupils, or the way her lips taunt you for another taste.

The delicate curve of her nose, like a deity the way she so naturally is, sculpted from the stars as you examine the dorsal bump that sits near the bridge between her eyes, and then arches down to her cupid's bow. You want to pepper kisses all over her, take a risk into her world, trace the fine lines that are embedded into her pale complexion. God, you wanted it, no matter how foolish you would become.

Not able to withstand another teasing comment, you bring your lips to hers with vehemence, your shaky hands drawn over the stretch of her back, nails bundling up fistfuls of blue cotton fervently and with lack of restraint.

“Easy, baby”, the older woman rasps out a discordant laugh as she eases apart from you, “I got it, sweetheart. Let’s take our time, no need to rush anything.”

But the way your fingers are threading up her spine, carding through the syrupy strands of her hair and burying the pads of your fingers into her darkened roots tell her everything. “Please”, you whisper, a whine of desire prolonging from your throat, “take me to bed.”

And who is she to deny such a request? Fallen at your feet from square one.

With groping hands and ragged breaths, Jill has led you to her room and shoved her calloused hands onto the square of your chest, watching you stumble your way backward until your knees wobble, feet losing balance and you surrender your footing. Now draped along her mattress, you’re sprawled amidst her disheveled sheets, unintentionally alluring at the edge of her bed. A present that needed to be unwrapped and reveled in. Undressed and ravaged.

Undoubtedly, the attraction was mutual. Too reticent to meet her eye, fledgling and modest you were, a stark contrast to the indecent and repugnant men that stuck around and partnered alongside Jill in multiple missions. She was abnormally engrossed in you, freshly employed, seeing a sliver of compassion in every beam you presented, how much you were blossoming compared to the others who groaned and wailed.

Of course, your age had been worrisome, and Jill felt guilt course within her at such salacious contemplations. But to have you laid out in this moment, so youthful, so precious, she knew it was alright. She was going to take such good care of you, that was certain, cherish you like no other. And from the way you propped your weight up onto your elbows to wait for her, in her bed—she knew you had waited a while for this too. The glimmering twinkle in your glossy eyes, an unspoken plea from the depths of your soul.

Jill pried your heels off your feet and threw the irrelevant shoes to the floor, long fingertips prodding along the protruding talus bone and further down to the curve of your calf, pulling your leg upward so she could chastely peck along the skin. Give you softness before she fucked you clueless, solicited vulnerable cries from that sweet mouth.

“God, you’re so perfect, sweet thing. Need you to be good and spread your legs for me”, she mumbles amongst unarticulated nibbles to your calf, two strong hands guiding your limbs apart with your permission. You comply, breath hitched in your throat, craning your neck back once she lowers a palm between your two thighs, index and middle finger circling into your sticky panties, meddling with the sodden gusset.

She grunts, your wet cunt fueling her ego. She knew it was worth examining how ruined you already were, but this quick? How precious.

“Fucking hell, you’re needy”, you flush viciously at her jesting observation, squirming so sensitively at the swirls and caresses of sensual friction, every plunge of her trimmed nails into the flimsy fabric were torturous. Panties are humid and tainted from your own very need, and you feel your body is just an ocean of desire, body overflowing with lecherous want.

You wantonly gripe and huff, dress now creased and hiked up to your navel as Jill holds you still and anchored, one hand clamped around your knee securely as the other is buried between your thighs, toying with you. Coaxing those gentle gasps out of you that make her heart swell, fill her with greedy pride.

“Just a couple of kisses, and your panties are already ruined”, she curls a finger into the band and drags the elastic up, the soiled undergarment loose and freed from your glistening labia, before Jill releases, the material slapping back down within mere seconds. Jolting and whimpering, you’re appalled from the igniting slap amongst your sensitive warmth, hips jittering and Jill flashes you a playful smile.

“Half my goddamn age and gettin’ all wet”, she tugs the panties up now, watching the cotton sink into the slick of your pussy, lips curled around the laced seam and cutely puffed out, glistening with your own pronounced arousal. “Pretty girl”, she muses, dark eyebrows creased and wrinkles of concentration forming along her forehead as she gawks at you coming apart, beseeching for mercy with little squeaks and airy sighs. She wonders when you’ll demand pleasure, but such a sweetheart you are, letting Jill have her way with you.

She’s too impatient for this little game, having enough of prolonging your reward of indescribable pleasure and ecstasy. She pushes the damp gusset to the side, a bridge of transparent slick breaking apart from the undergarment once she bares your cunt to her hungry eyes, lengthy fingers spreading your velvety lips apart, her mouth formulating into an impressed “o” at the vision.

“Jill”-, you pipe up with uncertainty, but she hushes you, another kiss she smothers to your calf. “I know”, she hums, “I know”. You feel all warm inside, sickened with endearment by the way she looks at you, clenching around thin air as you imagine how well she’ll fill you. You’re all hers tonight, she knows this.

A veil of brown tresses conceal half her face as she lowers her head to a calculated angle, sharp collarbone and shoulder blades pronounced once she bends closer to your clit. She collects tepid drool off the tip of her pink tongue, and hurls it down onto your turgescent pearl, watching her bubbling saliva sully your pretty little pussy and drip down to your pulsating hole, entrance begging to be split open as you clench once…then twice, and a third time. You shiver at the contrast of temperature, cool slick now warmed by the draw of her thermal spittle, and you attempt to keep your head up to watch with half-lidded eyes, desperate to see the woman you loved.

Despite her foul-mouthed tendency, and inclination for dirty talk, she was slow, and tender. Her hands were rough, marred from training and littered with blemishes and scarring. Though, she was so considerate the way she plopped her thumb along the swell of your clit, textured fingertips rubbing upward against the flesh, flicking the small, and hardened bud with precision that had you moaning brokenly into her pillows. Your nostrils flare, inhaling her musk that’s adorned the sheets, the scent enveloping you, in which you only moan louder.

“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you. Like my fingers?”

“Mhm!”, you had no words to speak, clasping onto the bedding as she steadily draws circles of pleasure over your enlarging bud. She tests the waters, pointer finger nudging at your dripping entrance, and when you make no sound of denial, she buries herself inside, curling one finger into your cunt. She laughs flippantly as your body instinctively swallows her in, fleshy walls tightening and frenzied, clenching sporadically around her, and she adds another finger slowly, trying best to be careful with you; her precious girl.

“Jill- oh my god”, the sudden stretch of her fingers is surreal, sticky taint gushing from your weeping hole and defiling the pale, boney fingers that split you apart so remarkably, obscene sonorities that climb up the walls and ring into your ears. You were already soaked earlier after the push of her tongue along your teeth, a saturated flower between your shaking legs, luminous and gleaming after a rainfall of dominance the older woman harbored.

But the way she bullies her knuckles inside you, her spit sloven hands smearing her slobber all over your vulva—you've been undeniably ruined, sopping mess that’s smeared to the flesh of your inner thighs and down to the shape of your rear, and you sob.

“Can’t- can’t do it”, your body says otherwise, pleading for more, blood rich and adrenaline coursing through bluish veins like wildfire. Thrust after thrust, and push after push; transforming your mortal chassis into molten nothingness. You’ve surrendered willingly, fallen victim to a certain euphoria that wounds around you, ensnares you into a blanket of submission.

“You can”, Valentine coaxes, more of a demand than suggestion, inspecting you past her webbed eyelashes, “and you will.” Her two fingers are tight against one another, pummeling toward the spongy muscle inside you with a pump of her wrist, arm flexing as she opens you wide to her advantage, folds spread apart to her liking, flapping limply atop the tarnished knuckles that gets forced into your noisy pussy. You’re writhing desperately, an arm flailing down the arch of your stomach to catch her, and you’re teary eyed; two crystals gleaming and threatening fat tears.

You’ve begun to blubber riddles of nonsense, incoherent gasps that can only direct Jill toward one conclusion, and once your hips grind upward to meet the dry surface of her palm, she’s sucking her teeth. You’re close, she smirks in understanding.

“Hm!”, you shake your head, and what else can you say? Disheveled and torn away, once innocent and pure, now fragmented into a vision of a filth from the way you moan symphonies. Dress slithered up just below the cave of your ribs, and a trembling hand clamping down on the wrist that’s trapped between your lifted thighs, you’re the image of a prostitute.

Nonchalant from your intrusive hand desperate to stop her, Jill swats you away and flashes you an expression that reads ‘don’t do that again’, before she’s plunging once more, and your stomach lurches, hitched breath trapped within your esophagus.

“Listen to yourself”, she tantalizes, sultry remarks hissing from the gaps of her pearly whites, and you whimper delicately as you begin to lose yourself in the bliss. It’s only in that moment of fragility that you recognize what she finds so amusing, the squelching of your cunt, juices lewd and sloppy as they flow, and you’re clenching around the older woman’s joints within. Further and further, until the rope breaks, and you’re crumbling into oblivion, battered fingers ushering you into an orgasm of pristine heaven.

Her thumb lulls you from your sequencing spasms, rubbing your used little clit in tender circles as she marvels over such magnificence with blown pupils, still standing at the edge of the bed whilst she listens to the howls of elation that tumble from your cute lips. She’s got to stop herself from hounding you right now, control the erotic sparks that are boiling underneath the constriction of her pants. She did this, and if she didn’t feel so full of herself because of it. Thoroughly smitten with you.

“There you go”, she hushes you with rasping care, observing with worry as your soft hips remain twitching, “you okay?.”

She abandons the mess she made the moment she joins alongside you, crawling to fill the cold space amongst the bed, suckling marks of woo under the slant of your jaw once she’s beside you. Slender, protective arms are snared around your heaving figure, and you’re humming to reassure her, reaching to grasp onto the meat of her biceps for a sense of imploring comfort.

“You did good”, a husky murmur that rumbles from her, reverberates through you as she douses nurturing pecks along the crown of your swarming head, your brain filled with static and fuzz from such an experience. She thinks you’re finished for the night, wasted and frayed—the humble woman she was—figuring she’ll get you cleaned up and call it a night.

The conclusion is omitted, fortunately, from the moment your mouth falls agape, needy muscle thrashing inside and your libido pulsates. You lever her hand that was once caressing your waist, and bring it upon the seat of your bottom lip, peering past your nose at the wrinkled fingertips; pruned and soiled from the liquid you've drenched them in. Your release, glued and preserved amidst the pores of the brunette's skin.

A low sigh of approval erupts from Jill’s chest as you clean the cracks and crevices you’ve dirtied, your beady eyes now sealed tightly as you slurp on the digits hungrily.

“Can’t baby”, she drawls, cunt throbbing and irritated as it stays purchased amongst the seaming of her ripped jeans. “Might be too much for tonight.”

As if you’re adamant on her docility and compliance, you swirl your tongue over her nail beds, the addictive brewery of your cum, globs of spit, and her flesh had all become dewy and sloshed down the walls of your throat. You moan, bobbing your head until you sputter around her, and the two digits sit upon their tongue-like throne beside the swell of your tonsils, leaving you gagging stupidly by the sensations.

Fucks sake, she wants to pummel that honeyed mound into the sheets until you’re ripping her off, tear streaks racing down your cheekbones. You fucking asked for it? You’re gonna get it.

“Want you to feel good”, you gargle, batting your eyelashes, “please?”

Denial dawns heavily upon her for the second time tonight, the fear of mauling your body—her temple of worship—weighing heavy on her racing heart. But the stench of sex disarms her restraint, the prodding canines and writhing tongue deepthroating her fingers merely convincing her. “Wanna feel you”, you whimper, “wanna”- and there’s no more words that need to be said.

Constricting fabric and other layers of clothes are shredded apart within a matter of seconds, now askew and in disorganized piles amongst the older woman’s bedroom floor. She couldn’t care less, peeling off everything she, or you possibly owned, a chest of ample breasts swinging and soft, chocolate moles dotted from her collarbone to the curve of her rising tits. You feel them perk against your own, nipples coupled and stimulating one another. Her robust figure straddles your hips, strengthened thighs not allowing an escape as she wrestles her lips against yours, groaning in low carnality.

The night is crude, bawdy, and daring. Jill Valentine’s apartment molding into a pornographic masterpiece, with licentious kisses exchanged with swollen lips, and entwined legs that brush against one another. She’s slotted herself so perfectly against your cunt, raising her hips so she can grind her clit against yours, and it’s everything she’s wanted. Everything you've wanted. Hymns of pleasure conjoin, and she’s clamping your thighs as she meets you in the center, a sultry look through her hooded eyes. With nails digging crescents into your skin, she huffs out a hissing moan, string of curse words descending before she can communicate properly.

“So close babe, so fucking close”, Jill’s pelvis pushes upward, folds kissing one another and she connects with you like you’re both two puzzle pieces meant for one another. “Gotta wait for me baby, wait for me, okay?”. She’s already said that many times tonight, stilling her scissoring once she spots even a measly scrunch of enjoyment building up on your youthful features. Egging you on just to shatter any shroud of pleasure.

“Wanna fuck this sweet pussy all night”, she grunts, chuckling in mirth at your whines for release, beads of sweat drawn over her temples. “Be patient with me baby, be patient”. And she’s tugging the ropes again, leg drawn over yours as she rubs against you, over and fucking over again, until you’re a ruptured woman, humbled from your own begging.

#bloodcasket #resident evil smut #jill valentine smut #resident evil x reader #jill valentine x you #jill x reader #jill valentine fanfiction #jill valentine x reader #jill fanfic #lesbian

[heartofwritiing]

His sweater

paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader (featuring cc!tommy and cc!tubbo)

summary: you and wilbur are in a private relationship and one day while you’re streaming chat recognizes the sweater you’re wearing.

authors note: I wrote this a while back when I was coming back into writing. I'm sorry if its not as good as my usual stuff. the reader is a small streamer but she's close with all the britsh ccs, (bc she lives in the uk) she and wilbur are dating and no one knows not even their friends! but some of them do suspect it! I thought it was cute not sure if it's been done before and I really enjoyed writing it!!

warnings: secret relationship, anxiety attack, fluff, not proofread, and unedited!

It was supposed to be a relaxed stream, chatting and hanging out before Wilbur got home. That’s what it started as. You logged onto Twitch around 7:40 or so, after hanging out with Tommy and the gang for the day. 

Wilbur had gone to his office. He told you to head off without him and said he would be home in an hour or two after he finished editing. That was fine with you. You didn’t mind when he worked late since you didn’t go to bed until around midnight.

No one knew you and Wilbur were together. Like together, together. They thought you were close friends. Not even your friends knew you and sometimes hanging out with them was hard because you wanted to be all

It's not that you were embarrassed by each other. You wanted your privacy and time together to be yours and yours alone. You knew everyone in the group could be eccentric about romantic relationships. You knew deep down they would be happy for you but this was something you and Wilbur agreed to keep secret. For a while at least.

Only a few times have you let it slip when you were out with friends. Everyone knew you two were close so it wasn't that odd to see you being close.

Phill was the only one who knew what was going on. Because once he had caught Wilbur taking your hand in his while you walked side by side. You both completely forgot he was walking right behind you. Separating your hand from Wilbur's when Phill was giving you a knowing glance out of the corner of your eye. Wilbur felt you let go of his hand and he turned to you pouting.

Wilbur got the message completely, seeing Phil smirk back at him. Then, to make matters worse Tommy caught on to Phill being suspicious about something all day. Hence began the young blonde bugging him about what he was all smirking about all day.

Then there were times when you both streamed together. Whether it be at your house or even playing on the SMP, sometimes things would slip out on both your faults.

Like you’ll flirt with each other, or he’ll call you love, or darling. Small things that not everyone can catch onto. Everyone thinks you’re roleplaying anyways but you both know it's not. If you’re on stream you’ll hold your hands under the desk out of view of the webcam. Wilbur would caress your knuckles with his thumb, letting you know he was there. Or you’ll lay your heads on each other’s shoulders during late-night streams when you’re so tired. Little things like that, and of course chat goes nuts for it. 

They think it’s adorable how close you guys are. You love it too. , some people ship you guys but you ignore it, not caring about what they think. It wasn’t anyone's business.

So here you were taking a sip of water from your bottle and as you read the chat a donation came up and it made you perk up.

“Alyssa thank you for the four months!” you read off the donation with a smile. It made you happy that people wanted to stick around with your channel and found it a safe community to fall back on. That was what you wished for.

Your chat was going slow as usual since only about 2,000 or so people were watching. You were comfortable in your little corner.

Your eyes skimmed through the incoming text on your monitor. You froze when you saw a particular statement about your attire.

User: Wait is that Wilbur's sweater?!

You didn’t dare say anything as you tried to shake it off but the comments kept coming in after that faster than before. Everyone seemed to recognize it since he often wore this one in videos. 

You had forgotten Wilbur gave you his sweater sometime early in the night. It wasn’t cold in Brighton during the day, it was warm in the sun. The perfect weather for a band shirt and your favorite pair of comfy pants. But after sunset, you had gotten chilly and Wilbur had offered you his sweater.

You shivered as the chilly wind made goosebumps rise on your arms. You wished you had brought a jacket before going out. You forgot to check the weather and you didn’t think you’d be staying out all day. It was fine, you weren’t going to make a big deal out of it.

Wilbur, who is walking with Tommy glances in your direction. Noticing your shivering state with your arms crossed, you failed to warm yourself up.

Without hesitation, Wilbur pulls his yellow jumper over his head and jogs to catch up with you. Holding out his arm with the sweater all bunched up in his hand, he nudged you.

You turn to look at him. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the realization of why he was handing you his sweater. He had noticed you were chilly and your stomach grew butterflies.

"You're shivering. I don’t want you to catch a cold."

You felt warm inside. You never thought you’d find the typical romantic gestures appealing but then you met Wilbur. Who proved you wrong. He was always a gentleman. It made you fall in love with him more and more.

You take it gratefully and put it on. The bright yellow contrasted against y/h/c and somehow made your skin glow. It made you look happy somehow, but it could be the fact you were wearing your boyfriend's sweater.  The smell of his cologne faintly lingers on it.

Wilbur blushed and felt a bit dizzy seeing you wearing his clothes sometimes, and now it was the same case. He thought you looked adorable and was glad he could help you be warmer.

“Thanks, Will,” you smiled.

You almost stood on your toes to kiss his cheek but stopped yourself short. You didn’t want the others to see. Wilbur didn’t care. He leaned right over and kissed your head quickly.

"Of course, darling."

You smiled at the memory of two hours ago as the chat was still spamming you with questions. You tried to ignore it so you booted up your saved game of Stardew Valley. Knowing everyone wanted an update on your farm.

As you played you would glance over to your other monitor and notice chat wasn’t letting up about the sweater. It was getting a bit on your nerves since chat was getting a little hectic and you wanted to have a normal stream. Suddenly you heard an alert for Discord on your computer and you perked up like a golden retriever.

“Oh hold on chat, I’m getting a message!” you say opening up Discord on the opposite screen, just in case. Hopefully, someone wants to join you for a game or chat with you for a while. You were optimistic about finding out.

You saw it was from Tubbo. You immediately got excited seeing a notification from one of your closest friends. Your eyes read his message carefully making your heart sink to your stomach.

Tubbo: Hey, Y/N I don’t mean to alarm you but you’re trending on Twitter. I think you should check it out. 

Below his message was a link and you clicked on it hesitantly, assuming the worst you were bracing yourself for. Twitter opened up to reveal a whole thread of posts involving various screenshots. You sat in your desk chair with your messy hair and Wilbur's sweater clinging to your body.

You tried not to show too much emotion on your face while you scrolled. Knowing that all your now 4,000 viewers were watching you with every beat.

Tears brimmed in your eyes as all this attention was starting to overwhelm you.

You typed back a reply to Tubbo.

This is bad, right?

You were trying so hard to keep it together, everyone was figuring out your secret. You didn’t want everyone to find out this way, especially not your friends. They deserve better.

No no no, they don’t know what they’re talking about and just ignore it.

Easier said than done tubs.

ik ik

I was watching your stream and I noticed chat being nosey and I could tell you were uncomfortable. Are you okay?

You moved your eyes back to the chat again. It was going even faster now. Your viewer count had gone up even more. Everyone was asking why you were being so quiet all of a sudden. You apologized to everyone before returning to your chat screen with Tubbo.

“I'm sorry guys just message my friend real quick.”

Yeah.

Listen y/n if it's true or not I’m happy for you either way.

I'm sorry you had to find out this way.

Don’t be. It’s not your fault.

Does anyone else in the group know?

Just me. And technically Ranboo but he hasn’t figured it out.

You giggled at that.

You were so enthralled talking with Tubbo that you didn’t even hear the front door open. Will was home, toeing off his shoes and hanging up his flat keys.

You typed to Tubbo that you were going to end the stream. Make up some excuse that you were too tired but you didn’t want to seem suspicious. That’s when Wilbur snuck up behind you and leaned down so that he could wrap his arms around your shoulders.

Chat went even crazy. Spelling his name in all caps. Chaos. Absolute chaos.

You instantly froze at the contact and stayed like that for a good solid couple of seconds in shock. The smirk on Wilbur's lips was still prominent, but what he did next stunned you more than you already were.

Wilbur leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek tenderly. His lips lingered on your skin. Burning. You always felt this way when he kissed you. It was sweet and brief. You could feel his breath across your skin when he pulled away. Like it wasn't a big deal that he simply kissed you in front of thousands of people. Looked up at your monitor and smirked when he saw your chat going ballistic.

“Oh are you streaming?” he asked. Of course, he knew you were streaming, and yes he did see the tag trending. Tubbo had messaged him as well and Wilbur thought now was the best time to reveal. He wanted everyone to know you were his, and he was yours. So he hatched a scheme in his head to surprise you by coming home while you were still streaming. So, you were in shock that your boyfriend had come in and kissed your cheek on camera. In front of your viewers.

You were a bit mad at him at the moment. Then you saw how cute he looked with his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the chaos issue from his work.

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag now huh darling?” he hummed into your ear softly.

It made you flustered when you felt his lips brush your ear. 

“Now everyone knows you're mine.”

Your heart was beating a million miles per second. You couldn’t believe it was happening. You were so relieved and yet kinda annoyed with Wilbur at the same time for sneaking up on you. You wanted to swipe that cheeky grin off his face. He could be such a smart ass sometimes, but you love him for it. 

Now would be a good time to end this. You thought as you cleared your throat and kept your eyes on the chat log.

"Well, that's enough for me tonight, goodnight.” You finally say quickly, coming out of your flustered state.

"Bye chat,” Wilbur waves.

As soon as the outro screen came on you logged out of Twitch. Immediately, you lay your face in your hands and began crying. Wilbur grew concerned.

"Y/N?" He spun your chair around to face him. He got down to his knees in front of you and placed his hands on your arms. Your heart was beating in your ears, pounding as the situation became too much. Hitting that end stream button brought a sense of relief now that you could finally take it all in. Everyone knew. There was no going back from this. You were so sure that you'd never get a break from the constant questions and judgment that come with being a content creator. 

Besides you on the table, your phone was going off like crazy, vibrating and shaking with alerts. You lifted your head to stare at it in fright. Wilbur detected your uneasiness immediately and grabbed your phone to shut it off completely before turning his attention back to you. 

He brings his hand up to tuck strands of your hair out of your face and behind your ears. You try your best to begin a breathing exercise to calm yourself down. 

Inhale through the nose. 

Exhale out of the mouth 

Wilbur's touch begins to calm your racing mind and heart. His voice anchors you back to the surface of your deepest thoughts. 

Breath. Just breathe. 

“That's it, in and out." 

When you finally get your breathing down to somewhat normal and you surpass a panic attack. Wilbur doesn't say anything. Just holding you until you’re ready.

“I'm sorry,” you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut in shame. Tears flow out again as Wilbur shushes you. 

“Don’t be sorry, don't." He chastised.

“It was just a lot.” You sniffled. 

“I know, but it's going to be okay, you know why?” 

You shake your head from side to side. 

“Because I love you so much, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. It’s you and me,” he reassured. 

You smile tearfully. “I love you too.” 

The rest of the night you are spent curled up next to Wilbur, your phones turned off to enjoy some time together away from the internet. The sudden sound of your PC exploding with the sound of the discord call ringtone has you groaning and pausing the movie you both were watching. You had forgotten to shut it down during the chaos. Wilbur goes over to your monitor to turn it off but sees it's Tommy calling. Reluctantly he answers and the room is filled with the teen's loud voice. 

“Why didn't you guys tell me!” he shouted, his voice breaking up through the speakers due to his loudness. 

“Hello to you too Tommy,” Wilbur spoke. 

“Wilbur! I never thought you’d get any women!” 

Wilbur glared over at you as you burst into laughter. It was clear that Tommy was surprised and happy for you both but he was also being his obnoxious self. 

“Alright Im hanging up now,” Wilbur says. 

“No, no!” he laughed. “Im genuinely really happy for you two,” 

“Thanks, toms!” you shouted from your spot on the couch. 

“Thank you Y/N!!” Tommy exclaims. ”See Wilbur, at least someone appreciates my remorseful attitude,” 

Wilbur rolls his eyes and ends the call, shutting down your pc so no one else could bother you. You laughed as he made his way back over to you on the sofa so you could continue your movie. Wilbur was likely going to try and protect you from being bombarded by your friends too much if you decided tomorrow that you'd talk to everyone, You were nervous to face them but you would know that nothing was going to change that your friends supported you. 

#wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur x reader #mcyt fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #wilbur soot x fem!reader #mcyt x reader #fluff #mcyt imagine #cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader #wilbur x reader #cc x reader

[goldberrg]

surely "bestfriends"

summary : You and Billy have been best friends for a while, but when he comes over unexpectedly.

TW's – cursing, sex (in details)

The end of your pencil tapped against the edge of your desk, the side of your head resting on your hand. Your leg bounced to the same rhythm as your pencil, while you listened to your teacher finish up telling you guys about a project. You were all reading "Pride and Prejudice", or at least had read it, and now needed to do the final project for it. You were aloud to work in groups of up to four, but you knew you'd only be working with one person – your best friend, Billy Hargrove.

Billy's step-mom, Susan, and your own mother were close friends. They worked together, and when you had been invited over for dinner the first week they moved to Hawkins, you and Billy had clicked. The two of you spent most of the night in his room, flipping through his vinyl's and helping him hang up his posters. You couldn't help but mock him about the clichè Playboy posters he had, and all the random crap in his room. But the two of you hit it off, becoming close friends quick.

And now he was your partner for every english assignment, art project, and science project. Those were the three classes you shared together. The first time you tried pairing up with someone other than him, a girl named Cheryl, he didn't speak to you for three whole days. Even when he drove you to and from school, he blared his music so loud your ears rang for hours afterwards.

Only after the project was over, and you showed up at his door with two tickets to see a movie.

Once your teacher had finished giving out her information and instructions, the class dispersed to get with their groups or partners. You leaned your head back, already finding Billy getting up from his seat behind you. He tossed his backpack onto the now-vacant desk beside yours, slamming his body into the chair with a grunt. This was your cue to get up and go get the poster board you would need for the project. You returned with a plain, white board compared to the other varying colors of purple, green, blue and red.

— Get your gross feet off the desk. — you ordered, glaring down at Billy since your hands were preoccupied. Billy rolled his eyes, but complied and removed his feet, the legs of the chair falling back onto the floor.

— Alright, doll, what's the plan? — Billy questioned, reaching into your backpack and pulling out your personal copy of the book. You'd already read the book various times throughout middle school and early high school, so you and Billy switched off borrowing your book.

— I figured I'd paint the board, sort of like a collage. Have different things on it. — you explained, looking down at him from the other side of the desk.

— Sounds good to me. We have two weeks, right? — he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you.

— Yup, so if you don't finish the book by then, I'll kick your fucking ass. — you hissed, watching as he paused his skimming through the book.

— What?

— There weren't any lions in the book, jerk. You have two days to finish it. You're three fourths done, because that's how much we've read together, so you can finish a hundred pages by Thursday. — you sighed, rolling your eyes.

You walked over and sat in your own chair.

— Yeah, yeah, alright Your Highness. — he grumbled, closing the book and tossing it on top of the poster. — What else? We're doing the whole 'main characters, theme, plot, climax' stuff, right?

— Of course that's the only word you'd remember. — you grinned, shoving his shoulder as he laughed. — The dramatic structure, yes. And all the other stuff. We'll split it up. — you said, putting the book away. — You're coming over after dropping Max off, right? — you asked, standing up.

— Yeah. Most likely around 4:00. — he said, standing up as well when the bell rang and slinging his bag over his shoulder. — Let's go, doll.

Once Billy dropped you off at home, you laid the poster board on your bed and your backpack by your desk. You decided to shower and change into comfy clothes before Billy came over, after all you had about an hour. So you grabbed a pair of skull pajama pants and a big shirt, before heading into the bathroom. You turned the water on high, stripping off your clothes from the day, leaving you in your underwear. Grabbing your moms essential rose oil, you dropped a couple drops into the shower before leaving it slightly unopened on the rack next to the shower. The smell would help relieve the tension of the day, and get you focused for schoolwork. Finally, you took off your bra and underwear, stepping in.

The hot water hit you in the face, and you welcomed it. Scrubbing your face, you made sure to get your mascara and concealer off so that when you got out you wouldn't look horrifying. You let the water travel to your hair, smoothing it down your shoulders. Steam filled up the bathroom, the smell of rose invading your senses.

The roaring of the water was so loud that you didn't hear your front door open or Billy shouting for you name.

Billy pulled up to your driveway, hopping out of his car and heading up to the front door. Max had been dropped off at Mike's, not Dustin's, so it was a lot closer than he thought. He decided not to stop at home afterwards, and just head straight to your place. So he got there around 3:20, rather than 4:00. Not that big of a deal.

Banging on the door, Billy waited a minute or two for you to answer. When you didn't, he tried again, but louder. After the third time, Billy just barged in, rolling his eyes at the fact it was unlocked.

— Hey! Y/N? — he called out, hearing the shower running. Kicking his shoes off by the door, Billy tossed his jacket onto the back of your couch. He didn't hear a response from you, so he headed towards the bathroom. Knocking on the door with his knuckles, he leaned against the frame.

— Come in! — Billy's eyes shot open, looking at the closed door in shock.

As you were putting shampoo into your hair, you heard a knock on the bathroom door. You looked over at it through the glass doors, thinking of who it could be. Your mom wouldn't be home until later, and an intruder wouldn't fucking knock. So you probably lost track of time, and it was Billy.

— Come in. — you called out, not minding if he did or not. The glass walls were textured and opaque so he wouldn't be able to see anything porn-worthy.

And the two of you had paraded around in front of each other with your underwear on before, it wasn't much different. There was a pause before the door creaked open, and the outline of Billy came in.

— Sorry I'm early, doll. — he said, his voice darker than normal. — It didn't take as long to drop Max off. And I figured I'd stop by right after to get a head start on the project, maybe hang out for a while. I didn't realize you'd be naked.

— It's fine. — you laughed, opening the door slightly so you could poke your head out. He was sitting on the sink counter, shirtless. Every other girl in Hawkins was wet for Billy Hargrove, how could they not be? And of course you fell into that category. But you couldn't express it like they could, even though you were closer to him than they were. A few times a week, you'd find your hand sneaking down your underwear, his name leaving your mouth as you writhed against your sheets.

— Don't take too long, alright? — Billy pleaded, when he looked up and saw you looking out of the shower. His cheeks were red, but you passed it off as the hot steam. — Why the hell does it smell like roses in here? There aren't any flowers. — he questioned suddenly, lifting his nose in the air and diverting his eyes away from your wet neck.

— It's my momma's rose oil. I use it to relax. — you said, a 'duh' tone to your voice as you closed the door. — And I'll take however damn long as I please.

— Course you will. — Billy grumbled, and you smirked to yourself. You washed away the shampoo as Billy fired off more questions. — Why do you need rose oil to relax? Doesn't that burning water help?

— Not entirely. It helps my muscles from being hunched over all day, and the steam helps with my nose. But the rose oil adds the extra flare. It's rejuvenating.

— Rejuvenating? The hell's that supposed to mean? — Billy ridiculed, hopping off the counter and moving closer to the door so he could hear you better over the shower.

— It's like... I don't know Billy! — you huffed, opening the door suddenly and popping your head out. You were startled when you came face-to-face with him, noticing the way his eyes darted down to your nearly exposed chest and back up. — It helps with headaches, my skin if I apply it directly onto it, and the smell is just nice. Don't you think? It's just fucking relaxing. Unlike you right now. It's amplified in the shower, so I apologize if you're not getting the full treatment. — you snapped, getting frustrated. Having Billy so close in an intimate setting was rough, especially when you couldn't touch. It was like a goddamn museum, you can look, drool and adore. But if you touch, you're getting arrested.

— I'm getting the full treatment just fine, baby. — Billy snickered, leaning closer to you as his eyes dragged up and down your hidden form. Your face heated up, and you shot your hand out, shoving his face back.

— Pff, yeah right, Hargrove. — you scoffed, closing the door and diving under the water. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to mellow it out by focusing on your conditioner.

— You still with that Caden guy? — Billy suddenly asked, his voice now on the other side of the doors, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

— No, I broke it off two weeks ago. Remember? He couldn't decide if he wanted me or Jenny more, even though he was fucking her the whole time.?— you laughed dryly, running the conditioner through your hair as you shook your head at the memory.

— Good. — Billy muttered, but you still caught it. — You could do so much better than him.

— Yeah? — you laughed, shaking your hair to even out the conditioner. — Like who, you?

— Exactly like me. — you stopped, and turned to the end of the doors. There was an audible zipping sound, causing your heart to speed up.

— That so? And what makes you think that, Billy? — you called out, biting your lip and turning to face the water again, washing out the conditioner, in hopes of calming yourself. Your heart hammered against your chest when you heard the shower doors open, as if it was about to leap out of your throat. You didn't turn around however, opting to close your eyes as the water hit your face.

— Cause. — he replied simply, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Your eyes shot open as rough hands gripped at your hips, spinning you around. Your arms collided with Billy's chest, your head tilting up to look at him. His blond hair was beginning to stick to his face, and his blue eyes stuck out more than ever against the tiles. You weren't given anymore time to admire him, because his lips were on yours instantly. Both of you were swallowing water, your lips pushing against each other desperately. Billy walked the two of you backwards carefully, making sure you didn't slip, until your back hit the wall. You were now out of the harsh spray of the water, and you broke away to gasp for clear air.

— Are you.. — you attempted to ask, not wanting him to regret this, and have the friendship ruined.

— Yes, yes I'm sure, Y/N. — Billy said, not giving you the chance to finish. His hand reached up, pushing your wet, dark hair out of your face before leaning back down to capture you in another demanding kiss. Your fingers tangled in his damp curls, tugging slightly when his hands gripped your waist tightly.

Billy moved his hands under your thighs and crouched, indicating you to jump, and you did. Your legs tightened around his waist for dear life, knowing that if either of you gave out it'd end in a naked hospital trip.

— Fuck. — you moaned out, breaking the kiss as his cock rubbed against your pussy, tilting your head back. Billy ducked his head, attaching his mouth to the center of your throat, biting the thin flesh before sucking it. You whimpered, moving your body up and down the slick wall slightly, giving the both of you more friction. His nails dug into your ass, pinning you to the wall so you couldn't move.

— Don't do that, princess. — he warned lowly, vibrating against your throat. You could feel the occasional pulse of his cock against you, and you wanted nothing more than for it to be in you. Whether it was your mouth or pussy, you didn't care. You just wanted it.

— Billy, please. — you whined, after having waited patiently for him to finishing sucking on your neck.

— What do you want, baby. — he growled, pulling back to look up at you. You didn't answer him, instead you held onto his shoulders tightly so you could unwrap your legs without death. Once your feet were safely on the ground, you flipped the two of you, so his back was against the wall and your back was facing the water. Giving him a smirk, you kissed the corner of his mouth before getting on your knees. Billy's tongue darted out, licking along his lips while looking down at you, his hand running through your wet hair. Grabbing his dick in your hand, you pulled at it a few times, twisting your hand along the base. Leaning down, you gave the tip a few kitten licks, gathering the pre-cum onto your tongue. Looking up at Billy, you waited until his eyes fluttered closed before taking the beginning of his dick into your mouth.

— Ugh, Y/N. — Billy grunted, his hold on your hair tightening. You smiled internally, licking the underside of his cock, and then left to right in order to ease your mouth farther down. It took a few minutes, but soon enough the tip had gone past your tonsils. Your eyes were watering, and saliva was dribbling out of the edges of your mouth. Billy's hips bucked against your mouth, his tight grip on your hair giving you a steady rhythm. Continuous moans streamed out of his mouth, and eventually you were roughly pulled off of his dick.

— Not yet, baby. — he said, more so to himself than you. You understood what he meant, and grinned in satisfaction. Putting his finger under your chin, Billy guided you to stand up. Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Billy pulled you in for a slower, more passionate kiss. Your hands rested on his chest, relishing in the warmth of the water and his body. His free hand traveled down the small of your back, tickling you as he went, before gropping your ass.

— Billy.. — you gasped, your voice breathless. You grinded yourself against him again, growing impatient. You looked into his eyes, chewing on your bottom lip to keep in your needy whines. Billy simply smirked down at you, fully aware of what it was you wanted – no, needed.

— Hmm? — he hummed, a wicked grin on his face. You let out an impatient huff, ducking your head to harshly bite at his shoulder. Billy hissed out, the hold on your ass tightening before it released. You thought he was just gonna move you two, but instead he brought his hand down in a harsh slap.

— Ah, Fuck. — you cried out in shock, arching your back.

— Don't bite. — he warned, and then he finally pushed your body against the wall on the side, the cool tile instantly calming down your burning ass cheek.

— Then fuck me already, you jerk. — you snapped, running your thumb over the bite mark on his shoulder. Billy's eyebrow rose at your bold statement, and you simply grinned up at him. His fingers ran down your stomach, tracing at your curves and marks of imperfections. He kept eye contact with you as his middle and ring finger dipped between your folds, slowly dragging from your entrance to your clit. Your body jumped at finally being touched, a sigh leaving your mouth. His thumb rolled around your nub, your hips jerking occasionally, while his middle finger worked it's way inside you. A small grunt sounded in your throat, and you held onto Billy's shoulder, leaning your head against the wall. Once his middle finger was in to the knuckle, he pushed in his ring finger and began pumping them in and out of you, curling them.

— Ugh. — you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulder. Billy started kissing his way around your jaw, neck and chest, occasionally licking your nipple for fun. He added his forefinger after a minute, another moan escaping. You bit your lip, hard, holding in another whimper.

— Why are you being so quiet, princess? It's just us. — he mused, biting at your earlobe.

— I don't wanna boost your ego. — you snickered, yelping when his thumb pressed down on your clit and his fingers dug inside you even more.

— Yeah, well. — he laughed, shaking his head. — You can't hide the sounds you're making down here. — he snickered, slowly pulling his three fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. His tongue moved between his fingers, licking your juices and the shower water off of them. You watched, mesmerized.

Once his fingers were cleaned to his liking, he gripped the back of your thighs, having you jump up again. He gave you a nod, questioning if you were ready or not. You nodded yours quickly, having been ready for this for months. Aligning his cock with your entrance, Billy didn't have the ability to ease himself in because of your guys positions. So with one quick thrust, he was inside you, his hand splayed out against the wall and the other gripping your ass.

— Fuck. — you screamed, throwing your head back, crying out when it hit the wall. Billy was big, bigger than his three fingers. Your arms pulled him closer, trying to even out your breathing and relax your muscles around him. Billy didn't move, small moans being breathed into the crook of your neck.

— I'm sorry, doll. — he whispered, knowing it hurt. You didn't have lube or a condom, and not much preparation.

— No, no, don't apologize. — you said quickly, squeezing yourself around him to emphasize. — It's fine. You can.. you can start.

Billy removed his head to look at you, but when you gave him a nod he started moving. He thrusted slowly, not wanting to lose his grip on you or push your body. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you moved your body along his, matching his thrusts with your own.

— God. — he moaned, pulling his cock farther out before slamming back in, continuing the movement over and over again. Your nails scratched their way over his shoulder blades, biceps, back and anywhere they could reach. The pain was decreasing as the thrusting went on, and when Billy moved you slightly to the left, slamming back in, your eyes shot open.

— Holy fuck, right there, Billy! — you shouted out, arching yourself into him.

Billy smirked up at you, licking his bottom lip and doing as you said. He quickened his pace, no longer hearing your hisses of pain, and thrusted into you quickly. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, as well as the sound of your back hitting the wall, echoed throughout the bathroom, overpowering the shower.

— Ugh, god. — Billy grunted, throwing his head back. — I can't hold out much longer, Y/N. — he moaned, looking down at you just as you opened your eyes to look at him.

— I'm close too. — you whimpered, hiking yourself higher up on the wall, screaming out when his cock hit the spot again, but deeper. — Fuck, fuck, fuck. — you moaned, a streamline of curse words leaving your mouth. — Billy, I'm.. — you tried to warn him, but a high pitched moan escaped before you could finish as the heat in the bottom of your stomach exploded. A wave of warmth washed over you, your toes curling and your thighs squeezing around Billy, pulling him closer. You mouth fell open, letting out a small, quiet gasp as you orgasmed.

Billy pulled out quickly, feeling his own orgasm wash over him, and his hot cum sprayed over your stomach and the tops of your thighs. Your head fell to his shoulder limply, your body slipping down the shower wall, as it shook from your orgasm. You could see your thighs wiggling, and Billy gently lowered you to the floor. When the cold shower water hit you, you welcomed it, letting the cum wash off of you.

— Hey. — Billy whispered, his arms wrapping around you from behind. — This isn't a one time thing. I want you to be mine.

— Good. — you grinned, a giddy feeling coming over you, more intense than your orgasm. You turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. — Let's go take a nap, that project can wait until later.

#strangerthings #stranger things 4 #strangerthingsedit #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things au #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fandom #billy hargrove x original character #billy hargrove x you #billy x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #hargrove billy

[boba-beom]

trapped in your game | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW

pairing: bestfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader | genre: oneshot; fluff, smut. best friends to ?? | wc: 1.6 k | warnings: hair tugging, a lot of praises, pet names (, baby, princess, sweetheart, cutie), bsf!yeonjun's just so sweet :(( , physical affection, oral (m receiving), yj a lil rough with it, cum swallowing, smut with plot, not proof read, lmk if I've missed any. | a/n: so I wanna thank @junniieesbby for elongating this idea with me hehe, testing waters out since it's been a while but enjoy &lt;3 this is my comeback guys >:) it's also 5am, so I'm sorry HAHAHA

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

continue under the cut ❤︎

no matter how many times you turn around and rant to your best friend, yeonjun, he's there laying on your bed with his upper body hanging off of the edge and his phone in his hands.

“yeonjun…” you whine, pouting as you ask him, “were you even listening?” you exaggerate a deep huff of disappointment and that catches his attention.

rushing to turn his phone off and throwing it somewhere on your bed amongst your plushies, he lays on his front and reaches his arm out to caress the top of your head.

“okay, okay. I’m listening, what were you saying?” he tilts his head slightly and he mirrors your pout.

“I was saying, I think I’m linking up with this guy next week but I don’t… um...” you trail off, lightly chewing on your bottom lip thinking if you sound dumb worrying about this.

“but you don’t what? you know you can tell me, right?” he’s still caressing the top of your head ever so gently. yeonjun tends to have that aura about him. and it’s been like that for years. it’s not that you were embarrassed to tell him, he never belittles you about these things, or anything in general, but you also didn’t want him to think you were being silly about this.

“I don’t know if I’m good enough at giving head, jjun.” your light whine switched him up in some way.

you always wondered if he’s ever thought of you like that, and the answer is yes. but he knows his priorities as your best friend is that he’s always there for you no matter what. helping you in whatever it is. even when it comes to this.

“but you’ve given head before though?” he sits up, his feet now flat on the ground by your knees. you nod subtly, watching the way the little bulb lights up above his head.

“hmm..” he exaggerates a thinking face, bottom lip protruding before the corners of his lips turn upwards. “show me what you’ve got.”

you know how to kiss. that’s because yeonjun taught you. you know how to turn guys on. that’s because yeonjun taught you. but you’ve managed to give head and have your previous partners and flings come from that, and yeonjun hadn’t taught you. what if he teaches you now? will that make you better at doing it?

“yn? sweetheart, what’s going on in that cute 'lil head of yours?” he leans forward to grab ahold of your hand, which surprisingly lays limp in his palms. “I’ll talk you through it if you want.”

“I can try-“

he shakes his head, cupping the side of your face and his thumb stroking your cheek and slowly lowering to glide across your bottom lip. “Give me your all, c’mon.”

“thanks jjun.” you shoot up an innocent smile, the one that makes his knees weak even when he's sitting down.

you shuffle onto your knees, situating yourself between yeonjun's thighs while your fingers began to skim over the material of his sweatpants. yeonjun, on the other hand, was anticipating the act, leaning back on his elbows to observing you from that angle. he knows how good you are and how good you can be, of course he does because he's taught you these things.

as you watch your best friend look back at you with his sultry eyes, you catch the way he bites down on his bottom lip as your fingers trail closer towards his half hard dick.

"oh, so this is how you tease your flings huh?" his voice was lower than usual, but nothing you've never heard before.

"just find it a little fun when they squirm. you're good at not doing that though jjunie." you finally apply pressure onto his growing dick, stroking him through his sweats and picking up the pace until you see him fighting to throw his head back, but resorting to heavy, shaky breaths.

a hum leaves your mouth when you see yeonjun get harder under your touch, but it doesn't take much longer until you're hooking your fingers under the band of both his sweats and boxers.

your chest heaves a little, it's not the first time you've seen yeonjun's dick, the last time being when you caught him masturbating in his room with his door unlocked and he was wearing headphones. but he had a pretty dick for sure. his girth was a good size, the length wasn't too intimidating but deep inside you were excited. the head had already started to leak clear droplets, veins just beginning to raise to the surface as you wrap your soft hand around his shaft by the base.

he hisses from the pressure you apply, letting out his sigh that he had been holding in for a hot second. you're in awe, never had you touched yeonjun like this before, but to see him react this way just from your simple touches were starting to affect the dampness between your thighs.

"yeonjun, you know, you have a pretty dick." you tell him sweetly.

"thank you kitten— oh my god." he doesn't hold back the small moan in his throat after you had just licked him from the base to the tip with your lips lighting sucking on the head, letting the salty droplets spread across your tongue.

you smile at him once again, observing the way his mouth slacks open and how his pretty, pillowy lips are the same colour as his soft tip. that's something you'll unintentionally engrave in your brain for every time you glance at his lips.

"so.. so.. pretty.." you kiss around his shaft randomly betwen your words, and he responds with his hand in your hair, and lightly tugging it.

"get to it cutie, I wanna know how good you are." he loosens his grip, letting you take more of him into your mouth until he's almost prodding the back of your throat and pulling him out again.

a guttural groan leaves his throat as you repeat the same action a couple more times before you gag from how far in you're taking him. you're usually pretty good at not gagging, even using the squeezing-your-thumb-extremely-tight trick to prevent that, but it still happened.

"hey, hey." yeonjun sat up in urgency, but mentally kicking himself for twitching from the fact tears started to well up. "I'm sure you wanna do good for him, right? now breathe through your nose, your throat's gonna be occupied."

you nod, really listening to his words and you do exactly what he tells you. taking in a couple of deep and steady breaths you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing your head and inching further until he hits the back of your throat without you gagging.

"oh shit," he gasps, "just like that, princess, just like that."

both of his hands make their way to your hair, gathering them as best as he could into a makeshift ponytail. the suction you have going on was starting to make him feel light headed, twitching in your hold. he couldn't refrain, but you were doing too good. with your hair now in a tight ponytail in one fist, he pushes your head down more until he hears you gag.

an airy chuckle leaves his lips as he moans out your name and other profanities, boosting your ego to keep going. you know he's close when you watch his lower abdomen starting to twitch from under his black hoodie.

"keep going baby, I'm so close. god, you're so good." his heaven sent whines were shooting straight to your core, and you just knew your panties were soaked through from the discomfort against your core.

you let out a strong hum whilst continuing to bob your head, moving your wrist to push him over the edge. your other hand caresses his thigh while his hand is wrapped around your wrist. tight. a few more delicious moans leave your best friends mouth, throwing his head back as he bucks his hips up, close to chasing his high.

"yn, ugh, baby I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum." his hold around your wrist tightens as the band in his stomach snaps, feeling the way his cock twitches against your tongue.

you suck on his tip, swirling your wet muscle around it a few times until you taste his cum on your tongue. you let out a surprised moan from the way his load was shooting into your mouth, some even beginning to trickle down the back of your throat.

"ah shit, yn." he chuckles with a hand lazily covering his face. "you're so hot, what the fuck."

you giggle as you lean back on your knees, looking up at him and opening your mouth to show him his load under and around your tongue.

"filthy too, good god." he collects the cum threatening to drip from the corners of your lips as he waits for you to swallow it all and lick the rest from his thumb.

"so was that alright?" you lean your arms across his knees and rest your chin on the back of your hands.

"alright? you did so good baby." he caresses your head again, noticing the way you're refraining from smiling so hard.

"jjun?" you ask, almost a whisper. your fingers tracing invisible shapes across his thighs. he responds with a light hum. "I kind of don't want to see that guy anymore."

"what are you saying?" yeonjun raises an intriguing brow.

"I kinda just want you." there it is again, that precious smile that yeonjun loves to see.

again, he reaches out for you and leads you onto his lap, hovering you over his spent dick. your hands rest on his shoulders, stabilising yourself as he brings his middle and ring finger to stroke up against your clothed slit and rubbing light circles on your clit.

"well, I'm all yours."

taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @hyuntaena @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @bluejin0812 @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi and bc I thought you guys would like this hehe @lovejoshua @robin-obsessed @kookthief @choistick @baljinciaga @hanniejie

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[shotmrmiller]

Needs must

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

WC: 2.1K

TW: prostitution, explicit fingering, and smut-ish.

ive got 4 other ideas for this goddamn escort au and one of em is MY BOY JOHNNY. oof i cant wait. im mad it took me this long to do this. I wrote this listening to rich sex by nicki minaj.

You had needs. No matter how magical, a toy can only do so much for you. You wanted the praise of another human being—the warm touch of their hands around your waist, your neck. God, you needed to get laid. But after the disaster that was your last relationship, how nasty it ended, you couldn’t even ring your ex-girlfriend up for a booty call. 

Sucking your teeth, you look at your phone. Noon. Well, maybe one of your friends you’re about to meet up with for a weekly Saturday brunch knew someone who would be interested in a no-strings-attached situationship.

—

Flipping the card in your hands,  you chewed on your bottom lip in deliberation and looked down at the business card— the color of bone with raised black lettering. Ghost, it read, with his number on the back. How you ended up with this in your hand made you almost regret having reprobates for friends. An escort. That’s what they had shamelessly suggested. You had almost choked on your eggs benedict when one of them pulled out a contact card from their wallet and placed it by your mimosa. I mean, really. Preparing to argue about their lack of sense, they brought up a great point. It was either this, someone who was there for what you needed whenever you needed it, or your toys which were in a pathetic state from constant use. Your ex called it quits because you simply couldn't find the time to maintain a proper relationship— your demanding job took up most of it. You couldn’t believe you were about to do this.

Ghost. What a name. But you suppose it didn’t matter what his name was, only that he could do his job, and with the way your friend gushed over him— he’d leave you walking side to side. You needed this. You worked too hard for too many hours to not spend your money on some self-care. 

Fuck it. Maybe he will be just a one-time thing, you thought, and sent his number a text. 

—

Closing the door of your car, you briskly walk towards the small cafe Ghost had sent the address to; A cute little quaint coffee shop. Coming to a stop, you straighten your office skirt and run a hand through your hair before opening the door. Breathing in the coffee aroma, you look around for who you’re looking for, spotting him sitting in the back. The click of your heels echoes inside the cafe, catching the attention of your awaiting companion. He looks up and rises to stand, and it takes you aback. It was like witnessing a grizzly standing on its hind legs. Jesus.

He was tall, so tall, and broad. Wearing a black beanie and covering the lower half of his face with a mask, he extends his arm out to shake your hand, and you internally scream at how shapely his arm alone looks over his long-sleeved shirt. 

“I’m Ghost. It’s a pleasure, love.” 

Choking back a moan at his accent, you put your hand in his and say, “No, I’m sure it’ll be all mine.” You can see his dark eyes crinkle at your quip. 

“If we get through this smoothly, the next time we meet I’ll make sure of it.” 

As you let out a playful laugh, Ghost reaches for the back of your chair, pulling it out with a chivalrous gesture. “And a gentleman? You definitely know how to sell yourself.” 

“No, love. This is just a common courtesy. I don’t need t’tell you that I’m good,” and in one smooth motion, he extracts a sleek, forest green matte folder from the leather business bag lying at his feet.

“I need this filled out, just the usual— hard and soft limits. Safewords, nicknames, allergies, and so on.” You pick up the folder and open it, skimming over the contents of the front page. 

“This really is your job.” You flick your eyes from the folder to him and he’s already looking at you, watchful and steady. 

“O’ course it is. I take my clients, and future clients, seriously. I enjoy wha’ I do but it will never be at the cost of another. I will not make you uncomfortable in any way, nor risk your health. I aim to please you, not the other way around. And I cannot do tha’ if I don’t know tha’ you’re allergic to latex or completely against something I might do.” 

He gives a slight cough, and you divert your attention from the paper and meet his gaze. “What’s a pretty thing like you seeking out someone who offers these types of services?” and a lighthearted chuckle escapes you.

“The same reason the one who gave me your card did— just looking for a good time, no commitment.” 

He raises his eyebrows at that but makes no further comment. Smart man. Glancing at your wrist, you check the time. “Right,” and lean forward to get up when Ghost shoots up from his chair to pull out yours. “I’ll have your folder ready for you by the weekend,” and turn your head to face him.

“Is that when you’ll want this, then?” and you give a casual shrug. 

“If you happen to be available.” He reaches out and gently grabs your hand to pull you in for a tight embrace. Softly, he whispers in your ear, “I’ll be seeing you then, love.”

You leave with a silly little grin on your face.

—

The weekend comes and you’re a puddle of nerves. You can’t remember the last time someone made you this anxious. The knock on your door startles you out of your inner ramblings. It’s time. Taking in a deep, calming breath, you open it. 

Ghost calmly walks in, and starts taking off his mask, and then leather jacket.

“I’ve one absolute limit I forgot to mention,” he says in a firm tone. “I do not kiss. It is not a negotiation.” 

Well, you couldn’t give a damn if he didn’t. Nonchalantly, you shrug and say, “And mine is that we always use a condom.” With a nod and a chuckle, he eagerly grabs the folder from your table and starts flipping through its pages.

“A’right, love. Go get on the bed f’me.” The smirk he gives you is positively wicked. “I saw tha’ you have like to be told wha’ to do.” He jerks his chin towards your room. “And take everything off.” With nervous excitement, you run off, haphazardly tossing your clothes on the floor.

—

Eyes covered with a blindfold, all you hear is your shaky breathing and his footsteps on your plush rug. Your nerves feel exposed, raw. As you lie on the bed, you suddenly feel a firm grip on the flesh of your thighs, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps. The room's cool air contrasts with the warm heat radiating from his touch, pulling a hiss from your lips as he pulls you toward the edge of the bed.

“Atta girl, love. Open your legs f’me, lemme see that pretty pussy.” The lack of eyesight helps you to focus on his touch alone, making you fearless, and your legs drop open without hesitation as you lie on your back.

“Look at tha’. Aren’t you just a dream? Hm?” he puts his hands on your knees, keeping your thighs open, wet cunt exposed. “And you waxed, too. Hope tha’ wasn’t f’me.” You feel a fingertip slide from your hood, down to your clit and hole, spreading your juices around the labia and back up. Your nerves are on fire, your pussy clenching around nothing, forcing juices to drip down to your arsehole.

“A’right, pretty. Touch yourself. Shove your tiny little fingers into your,” he pauses to suck the skin of your inner thigh, “cunt and show me how to make you feel good.” He then moves his mouth closer to where you need it most, and bites. Are you defying me? Did you suddenly become deaf as well, once I blindfolded you?” and you aggressively shake your head. 

“No! No, sir. I hear you, loud and clear.” With a tight squeeze to your thighs, he says, “Then do as I say.” Moaning, you slowly bring your hand down, starting from your chest. Your palms rub against your pebbled nipples, down to your soft stomach, until your fingertips meet your swollen nub, then move in soft, tight circles, mewling at the feeling. The groan that reaches your ears is so lewd, you could come from that alone. 

“Tha’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. Look at how wet you are, fuck, show me just how you like it.” And you do. A vulgar noise comes from your hole once you stuff yourself with one finger, slowly stretching, before adding another. It’s something, but not enough, not what you want. Not thick enough, long enough, and that thought makes you whimper in disappointment. 

“Aw, are your fingers not satisfying? I’ll help you, sweet, only because you look so delicious spread out f’me like this. So vulnerable, bare.” His breath fans over your cunt, over your clit, and it sends a jolt up your spine— but he doesn’t move, doesn’t touch. It feels like you’ve been waiting for hours until he finally, finally, pushes a thick finger into you, and curls it, rubbing against the right spot, over and over, and then pushes in a second, threatening to tip you over the peak. The feeling is intense —your walls clench around him firmly in your rising pleasure.

“Oh, g-god, Ghost pleasepleaseplease,” squealing as you fuck yourself on his hand, and when your hypersensitive nerves pick up on the sensation of his scorching mouth on your clit, with a pulsating suction, your muscles tighten and tremble, to the point of pain, until Ghost gives one hard suck, forcibly pushing you off the edge. The wail you let out is ear-splitting— as ecstasy slams into your body, like waves crashing at shore. Your thighs squeeze Ghost’s head irrationally tight, but he doesn’t care, just groaning into your core, lapping up your juices like a dehydrated man who’s found an oasis. Your body stings— prickles from the vicious high you’re riding—chest heaving with sobs from the sheer force of it, fingernails digging into Ghost’s scalp, yanking on his hair. As your soul melts back into your body, you absentmindedly thank all the bloody gods for having friends who really do look out for you. 

Whimpering pathetically, your limbs go limp, loose, heavy. Ghost easily picks your body up and moves you toward the center of the bed, vertically, the blindfold still robbing you of your vision. 

 With a grunt of effort, his hand firmly settles by your ribcage, sinking into the softness of the bed, and then he slips a folded pillow beneath your hipbones, expertly arching your spine into a delicious angle. His hand firmly connects with your rear, not just once but twice, feeling the exquisite sting of it. The room falls into silence, only to be interrupted by the clinking sound of his belt buckle. Your body tenses as you hear the unmistakable sound of plastic being torn open, and then you feel his thick and warm shaft teasing your entrance. A moan escapes your lips as he penetrates you, his movements slow and sensual, until his hipbones press against your backside. Taking his time, he slowly pulls back his length, dragging it against your slick walls, before pushing forward again, covering your body with his own. His right hand is flat on the bed by your right shoulder, while his left curls around your neck, gently forcing your head to tilt back onto him. The tip of his head grinds against the entrance of your womb. 

He moans softly into your ear, before quietly purring, “Let’s see how many more orgasms I can wring out of you, pet.” The tightening of his makeshift necklace around your throat is your first and last warning of what is to come.

—

He pulled four. Four gut-wrenching, shattering orgasms before finding his own release. He left you a drooling, sloppy, sweaty mess on your bed, completely languid and relaxed. Somewhere, you faintly hear your phone ping with a notification. Hissing as you get up, you limp to your living room, and see it on the sofa. Unlocking it, you see that it’s Ghost, sending you his Cash App information. Holding in a chickle, you send him his money and wait for his confirmation. 

It was a real pleasure, doll. Let me know when you need me again.

Cackling to yourself, you place your phone back on the table. 

Bastard. 

He knows you’ll definitely be seeing him again.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader

[cevansbrat0007]

Bad Days

Summary: Ari helps you get through a particularly bad day...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Insecure Reader, Ari Being A Menace, Discussions of Poor Body Image, Body Insecurities, Name Calling, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Oral Sex (Fem Rec Implied), Ass Slapping, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“I don’t think I wanna do this.” You grumble as you walk into the living room. You lean down to hand your companion a glass of scotch, offering him a half smile when he gently takes it and places it on a nearby coffee table. “Seriously.”

Instead of responding, he simply pats his lap and waits. 

“Okay. How about we don’t need to do this?” You try again, hating how relaxed his big body seems while taking up way too much space on your couch. 

Ari shrugs then, catching his plump bottom lip between his perfect teeth and waits. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t demand. Doesn’t boss. He just waits.

For you.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice comes out softer now, more delicate. “And it’s not like it's gonna change anything.” 

Your Bounty Hunter cocks his head to the side, one tawny brow raised as he patiently waits for you to continue cycling through your list of objections. 

“I just have bad days sometimes.” Hot tears prick the backs of your eyes. But even though you’re quick to blink them away, you’re not quite fast enough. 

Ari studies you for a moment, his piercing blue eyes making your nipples pebble beneath the thin material of your silk robe. It made it hard to remember that you were technically in trouble. Which meant that was was about to happen could technically be construed as a punishment. 

“Then why don’t you be my good little Bird and have a seat, hm?” Your man’s deep voice comes out thick and rough. And while you have a feeling that he wants to make you obey, you know he also wants you to come to him on your own.

“Can the robe stay on, maybe?” You ask, your freshly polished toes digging into the short, plush carpet. “What if I get cold? Or–”

“You won’t.” He softly interjects, widening his jean-covered thighs just a little. Because although you didn’t know this, he’d already made a couple quick adjustments to the thermostat just in case. The last thing your man wanted to do was make you uncomfortable – at least not like that.

And then he holds out his hand for your robe. You stand there glaring at him, the two of you engaged in a silent battle of wills. He wins, of course. But only because you have nothing to throw at him. 

Except for your goddamned robe, which the smug bastard manages to catch midair. 

Ari tosses it to the other side of the couch before returning his attention to you. He’s pleased when you take a tentative step toward him, followed by another. And then another. The next thing you know, you’re slowly easing your nude body onto his lap…

And into his waiting arms. 

Immediately he wraps them around you, drawing you closer to his hard, muscled body. It never fails to make you feel soft and feminine – even when your mind was busy screaming at you that you were anything but. 

Today you felt dumpy, fat, and unattractive. 

But then here was this handsome man, holding onto you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. It was enough to make you start crying all over again. Just like you had this earlier morning.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat as you work to speak.

“I gotta be honest with you, baby.” Ari murmurs after a few minutes, his warm lips skimming over your brow. “I didn’t like what I heard come outta that pretty mouth this morning. Especially didn’t like it when you called yourself a pig.”

“Why?” You choke out a wet laugh. “Would you rather I have compared myself to some other barnyard animal?”

You’re rewarded for your snark with a sharp slap to your left flank, which suddenly has you burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

Oops. Guess that wasn’t the response he was looking for.

“No.” He grunts as you feel his fingers dig into the tender flesh of your thighs. You had no doubt that you’d be sporting a delicious set of fresh bruises on your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Oh.” Whimpering softly, you wrap your arms around his neck as you try to ignore the way his possessive, proprietary touch makes your body flare to life.    

“I wanna know why you felt the need to make the comment at all. Regardless of whether you knew I was listening or not.”

And there was the rub. You hadn’t expected him to come during your meltdown, let alone actually hear you berating yourself to the degree that you had been. Had you known you’d had an audience you would’ve at least had the sense to lock yourself in the bathroom or something, but instead you’d just had to cry your heart out in the middle of your bedroom floor. 

You must’ve looked so pathetic to him in that moment.

“Stop.” Ari commands, the single word spoken like a heated caress against your ear. “Whatever mean thought you’re thinkin’, I’m tellin’ you to knock it off right now.”

“H–how?” Your question comes out muffled thanks to the fact that your face is still hidden in his neck. 

“You have a tendency to tense up whenever you’re being unkind to yourself, sweet girl.” He replies with a shrug before forcing you to pull away from him so that he can look into your eyes. 

“I–I do?” No one had ever thought to share that with you before.

“Yep. Sure do.” He pinches your nipple as his gaze briefly drops to your bare cunt. “As your man, it’s my job to notice these things. Even when all I wanna do is bury my fingers knuckle-deep inside that tight little pussy until you’re drippin' and speaking in tongues, this shit comes first.”

Your hips jerk of their own volition when Ari reaches down to tenderly cup your sensitive core, massaging your damp flesh. Instantly you feel your slick honey coating his palm, making your cheeks heat. 

It didn’t help that you always seemed to end up naked around this man while he stayed fully clothed. In the past you’d only read about that kind of power dynamic. But these days you were beginning to enjoy it. 

“So tell me what has my woman being so hard on herself today? Be honest, now.” He presses as his fingers go trail their way along your belly, an action that has you immediately sucking in your stomach.

“Can we please turn off the lights?” You ask, feeling somehow both shy and stubborn at the same time. “At least some of them?”

“No.” He hisses back, not to be outdone. “You’re too beautiful not to look at, Bird. I might as well be a moth drawn to your flame, that’s how much hope there is for me these days.” 

“But I hate my belly. It’s so…soft.” You tell him, finally willing to admit defeat. “And I pulled all these sweaters out of storage today – from my thinspiration pile – and they fit even worse than they did then when I first bought them.”   

Your Bounty Hunter stares down at you for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Thinspiration?” 

“Yeah.” You hiccup, appreciating when he offers you a sip of his scotch, even when it makes you cough. “It’s like when you buy a shirt or a dress – or in my case a bunch of sweaters – that are too small for you so you can use them as inspiration to…you know…finally drop the weight.”

“Oh, Jesus H. Fucking Christ.” He snarls under his breath before taking a deep pull of his drink. “That’s what all this was about?”

Sheepishly you nod, as if finally realizing just how ridiculous you sounded. But at the time all of it had made perfect sense. “I figured it might help keep me from eating…too much.”

“Sweetheart…” His deep voice rumbles low in his chest as he polishes off what’s left of his scotch. “Fuck those sweaters, fuck the jeans, and whatever the fuck else is in that stupid fucking thinspiration box, or bag, or whatever. I mean it.”

One of Ari’s big hands reaches out to take hold of your chin, making it damn near impossible to look away from him. 

“You and me are gonna get rid of that box.”

“But, Beast –” 

“No.” His grip tightens ever so slightly. “That’s not good for you, baby. It never was. And I don’t ever want to hear you disrespecting yourself like that again. I really don’t. Broke my fucking heart.” Ari leans in to brush his mouth over yours, his free hand taking every advantage to stroke and caress its way along your body. “And it really pissed me the fuck off.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as fresh tears spill over onto your cheeks. “I–I’ll try to work on it.”

“These curves of yours are a gift from God, you hear me?” He muses as kisses away a tear. “Or the Devil himself. Depends on who you’re asking I suppose. There’s nothing I love more than watching those hips sway in one of your pretty sundresses, or seeing that luscious ass bounce every time I spank it.”

“You do seem to have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself, Sir.” You respond playfully through a watery grin. 

“Mmhm. The only thing better is when you’re busy holdin’ me hostage.” Ari flips your positions so that he’s on top of you know, effectively pinning you against the couch so that he can grind his denim-covered erection against your damp folds. “Keepin’ me trapped as your love slave while I work my ass off to satisfy that greedy pussy long until we both pass out”

“Hey…” You pout, shivering when he nips at your bottom lip. He tugs it into his mouth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. “I thought you liked the job.” You press your hands against either side of his bearded face, pulling him down for a proper kiss. 

“Oh, I love the job. Gorgeous girl. Great pay, benefits.” He nuzzles a path of hot, wet kisses along the column of your throat, loving how it makes you giggle. “All the pussy I can eat.”

“Wow.” You breathe, torn somewhere between lust and humor. 

“But in all seriousness, Bird, the only thing I ever want is to see you happy. Keeping that box, holding on to whatever the fuck that was supposed be…” You press a finger to his lips, pausing him mid-sentence.   

“I don’t want to just throw them away. I mean, they’ve still got the tags on them and everything. But there is a women’s shelter in the next county. Do you think maybe we could..?”

Ari nods once, giving you a warm smile as he does. Knowing that you’d managed to please him has a fresh wave of slickness coating your already slippery thighs.

“As long as you agree to let me keep you naked and stuffed full of my cock for the rest of the weekend, we can do whatever the fuck you want.” He hitches one of your legs over his shoulder, dragging his tongue along the soft skin of your calf. “And since you seemed to listen so well, I suggest you lay back and relax, because, baby…”

“We both just earned ourselves a treat.”

END

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[hxjikonn]

Hi, dear! Congratulations for the 143 followers! I hope by time you read this the followers has already grown past 143! You deserve that much of love because your writing is just so amazing! I hope more people can found your account and love it just like how I love it to the core!

If you don't mind, can I request a short scenario of Azul, Vil, and Malleus (separately) with a gn s/o who likes to wear his clothes in private? Like, when the character enters his room, he found his s/o wearing his dorm uniform and trying to mimick his usual action in front of the mirror. What will they do?

A/N: WAIT STOP THIS IS TOO CUTE 😭🥹♥︎ HOPE YOU LIKE HOW I WRITE THIS ONE!! sorry it took too long for me to respond too🥹

Play dress up

☆Staring☆: Azul Ashengrotto, Vil Schoenheit and Malleus Draconia.

Synopsis: Their reaction to their s/o wearing their clothes

Azul Ashengrotto

You poked his cheek again, getting impatient, he sighs and looks at you, you had a visible upset pout on your face that caused him to chuckle slightly “My little sea angel, can you hold on just a bit longer? I’m almost done” he pleaded whilst turning his attention back to the papers on his desk.

You groaned and sat on the floor, you were bored out of your mind waiting for him, “this is the third time you’ve said that…” you mumbled, “I know…I know, I’m sorry, I’ll be done shortly okay?” He cooed kissing your forehead. You looked up at his desk, he still had so much to finish… “Azul, maybe I should just go home…you look really busy and I don’t want you to rush if because of me” you stood up from the floor.

He pulls you closer to him causing you to lightly plop on his lap, “Noooo don’t leave. I promise I’ll be done soon…” he whines squeezing your waist with his arms. You yourself really didn’t want to leave aswell, so you nodded and promised you’ll stay.

“You can wait for me in my room, it’s much comfier there” he says and you lit up with excitement, there were only a few instances where you got to stay in Azul’s room, and be all by yourself…he never really left you there in fear you’d find his pictures from when he was younger.

“Kay!! I’ll go set the movie!! I’ll wait for you byeee!” You stood up from his lap and ran out, Azul could only laugh in both nervousness and adoration from your excitement. When you got there your eyes sparkled with curiosity, you didn’t wanna make a mess of course but you sure did take your time to look and search every corner of his room.

You did find his album and maybbeeee took pictures of his baby photos on your phone, when you had nothing to do and Azul still hasn’t arrived, one particular thing caught your interest. His closet

You skimmed through his clothes and found another pair of his dorm uniform, probably from his first year since it was a bit smaller than his new one, an idea popped in your head and you hurriedly changed into it. And yes you even included the fedora and scarf.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and giggled, though it was a smaller version, it was still a little big for you, you took pictures and posed while laughing. Then you start to remember Azul’s little habits and started acting like him.

You sat on his desk pretending to do paper work “Later Y/n, I’m busy with boring papers” you mimicked his voice as best as you could. Laughing at yourself in between sentences. You started to get in character more and didn’t notice the time passing. Soon Azul entered the room to see you standing in front of his bed facing away from him, a hand on your hip and the other holding a doodled contact you made.

“Hey you…yeah I’m talking to you octo-plush, make a deal with me…“ you said holding the doodled contract up to the octopus plushy Azul bought you… he laughs quietly before clearing his throat “I’ll make a deal with you instead.” He says suddenly, you turned to face him in panic, so much so that the fedora that was too big for your head slanted, covering your face, you quickly took off the hat and looked at your boyfriend who had the biggest grin on his face.

Unbeknownst to you, your face had already tinted red, he laughs at the sight. He walks up to you and cups your face in his hands peppering you with kisses, “You look cute in my clothes sea angel, do you wanna keep them?” He asks with the softest tone. You nodded with smile, “Okay, I’ll let you, but only because you make a convincing ‘Azul’ you might just fool the twins if you wanted to” he teased. Earning an eye roll from you,

He kisses your cheek once more and lets your face go “As much as I love to see you in those, I know they aren’t comfy, so why dont we both get changed and start the movie?” he took the scarf off you and hung it up, “Yeah okay, I was just going to do that before you came in anyways” you said while walking to the bathroom to change

“Are you sure? You seemed busy trying to persuade octo-plush to sign the contract” he teases again while taking his tie off, “Shut uuuppp” you whined in the bathroom, and he laughed, once you both got changed you cuddled up in his bed and watched the movie, and no the teasing did not stop.

Vil Schoenheit

You accompanied him in one of his photo shoots today, he wanted to see you there as he was posing for the camera, thinking you’d be mesmerized by his beauty. It turned to be the other way around, Vil is always professional, not distracted by eyes or mumbles and whispers from around him.

You were a different case though, since you were his ‘beloved potato’… “Okay I think we should take five everyone!” The photographer announced, Vil wasn’t at his best today, mainly because you flash him the prettiest smiles when he glances over to you during his photoshoot. Part of him also wants to blame that he’s tired but we all know that’s an excuse to go home early so he can spend time with you.

You meet him half way, jogging over to him with a water bottle, a mirror and and his make up bag in hand. He mouths a small thanks and drinks as you hold up the mirror for him. You stared at him with pure awe in your face “so pretty…” you unknowingly mumble out loud. Vil looks up from the mirror to meet your eyes, the look on your face was enough to make him erupt in a fit of laughter.

You tilt your head to the side, confused at his reaction, suddenly you were pulled closer to your lover and showered with soft feather like kisses leaving lipstick stains on all over your face. “Dearest, I love you, I do but sometimes you make me wonder if your really an enchantress who’s got a love spell on me” he jested, framing your face with his hands. “Hey even if I did you don’t mind right?” You joked back, smiling up at him.

He rolled his eyes and huffed, “Well, if you’re little spell kept me from focusing on my job then yes I do mind…” you felt him repeatedly pinch your cheeks softly, “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything…” you defended, “You’re being a menace by being so adorable, and you dont even know it!” he declared

You pretended to be offend with a huge dramatic gasp “Vil Schoenheit are you saying I’m a distraction??” You squinted your eyes pretending to be mad “Indeed potato, a very eye pleasing, heart wrenching distraction.” He laughs pulling out his phone to snap a picture of your kiss mark covered face.

“So, I need you to stay in my dressing room for the time being” he says as he posts the picture he took just now on his magicam’s story, “What?? But I came here to watch you work!” You whined, “Yes I know, But I’m never going to finish if I keep looking at you instead of the camera darling…” you opened your mouth to further protest but Vil cuts you off with a quick peck on your lips, leaving you defeated.

“It’s only until I finish potato, and hey you can even play around with the clothes and make up, play dress up while I work” he cooed, sighing you agreed with a nod, “Okay…I’ll wait for you in there…” he smiled and kissed your forehead again, you wanted to kiss him too but in fear of ruining his make up last minute, you just kissed his hand and mouthed a little goodluck before he walked back infront of the camera.

You entered his dressing room, deep down you knew it would be huge and grand, but NOT THIS HUGE AND GRAND, the rotating shoe wrack was something you thought you could only see in movies, not just that, bags, jewelry, fancy tops, clothes, even dresses?? Your boyfriend’s closet could put every mall out of business…”he’s right…I can play dress up here…” and so you did. (Right after you took off the kiss marks ofc)

Hours passed like seconds as you indulged in the variety of options you had in there, a particular piece did caught your eye though, you remembered Vil wearing it on one of his many many events, he looked so beautiful in it, it made you wonder if you could look as pretty in it as he was.

You put it on very carefully not wanting to damage it in anyway, it was a little big on you, but it didn’t look bad, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the outfit looked stunning, it felt so nice but you laughed thinking you didn’t suit it. “It’s pretty, but I think Vil wore it a lot better, I don’t do this outfit any justice at all” you said aloud, talking to yourself while you look down at the clothing.

“Now that’s just preposterous…you look amazing in it, it should be honored to be worn by you.” Vil’s voice suddenly came from behind you, you shot up and met his gaze in the mirror as he walked behind you. “Vil! Y-You’re done? Wow time went by that quick! I didn’t hear you come in…” you stammered, face heating up from embarrassment as he hummed in response and hugged you from behind.

“I was just about to..take it off…” you fiddled with your hands, “Why?” He asked, voice vibrating through you due to how close he is, “Well…it’s your clothes…aren’t you mad?” You asked him, “Why would I be mad? I’m the one who told you to play dress up…” he chuckled “Plus I had the privilege to see you look so lovely wearing my clothes….” He added turning you to face him.

“Oh please…” you laughed at his compliments, “No wait, I am mad about one thing…” the color drained from you as you looked up at him in fear, “the audacity…” he started, “You wiped off my kiss marks? How dare you!” He jokingly exclaimed, you looked at him deadpanned. “Well I couldn’t look pretty with kiss marks all over my face!” You said

“Hm…funny, My magicam’s story reactions said otherwise” he showed you, the picture he took earlier posted on his magicam’s story, “You posted it?!” You face once again grew tinted looking at all the views and reactions on his post. “I had to share the object of my affection to the world so they can adore you as much” he proclaimed. You turned your back to him, making a bee line to the small changing room with an upset face.

Once you came out, you were once again smothered in affection, “Will you take my love as an apology gift?” He asked, “Treat me for dinner and I just might take you up on that offer…” you negotiated, “fine, I get to pick the restaurant though…” he says “Mmkay, lets go I’m starving..” you held his hand as you both walk out of the dressing room.

Don’t worry, after that, Vil will surely take you back there to play dress up, this time with him present.

Malleus Draconia

“I wonder if he’s feeling better?” You asked yourself as you were waiting for Lilia outside the dormitory of diasomnia, your fae prince has recently caught a cold, normally Lilia would’ve been able to take care of Malleus himself like he always does, however since a certain someone (you) came along…Malleus always looks for you to come take care of him.

“Oh thank the 7 from above you came…” Lilia said his dorm uniform ragged and his hair a mess, “oh god what happened?? Are you okay???” You frantically asked, walking inside the dormitory, there you were met with large thorns engulfing the furniture, crawling up on the walls and some were even fighting the students.

“What the hell is going on???” You panicked, “It’s simple really, your boyfriend is getting crankier by the minute and if he doesn’t see you he’ll tear this dormitory apart brick by brick” Lilia started pushing you up the staircase to go to Malleus’s room in a hurry, Infront of Malleus’s door stood Silver and Sebek, you cant tell if they’re relieved to see you or scared for your well being…

“Welp! in you go, stay safe!” Lilia shoves you inside and locks the door behind you. Everything went by so fast you barely had processed it, suddenly a low grumbling noise interrupted your train of thought. “Oh shit…” you whispered, whilst gripping on to the basket filled with stuff you bought for sick tsunotaro.

You gulped before taking another step, when you did though, he seemed to sense it sending you another low growl, his back was turned so he couldn’t see who you were. Slowly you crept up closer behind him, you reached out to rub his back for him to know it’s you “Hey Mal—“ before you could even begin to, thorns flew out of nowhere grabbing your arm.

Good thing you were quick enough to dodge it, only sacrificing the cloth of your sleeve and a few scratches from the thorns. “Ah…” you winced and hissed at the little wounds in your arm. Malleus turned to you angrily, as he didn’t know it was his lover…the moment he found out though. His expression changed into an apologetic one.

The truth of it all was that he’d been waiting for you the whole day, but since you had classes and other stuff he had to bare being sick without you beside him. He quick but gently embraced you, pulling you into his arms burying himself in your hair and his tail coiling around your leg wanting to have more of your warmth. There you felt how cold he was… before you could ask him if he was okay, once again you were interrupted.

“I’m sorry my love, I didn’t know it was you…usually I’d be able to feel you when you’re near but I’m afraid this cold is getting the best of me… I’m really sorry” he apologizes, voice coarse and tired. You managed you wriggle out his arms a little, and you grabbed the basket you accidentally dropped on the floor, you took out the soup you made that was in a small container, thankful it didn’t spill.

You gently pulled away from the hug and cupped his face in your warm hands, “It’s okay…you don’t have to apologize, I understand, I get cranky on my sick days too…” you smiled up at him taking your hand off his face to open the container. “Here, I made it for you, it’ll help you get warmer so you’ll feel better…” you held a spoon up to his mouth and he obediently eats the food you’ve prepared for him.

You stopped after he finished half of it as you didn’t want him to throw up later, you were packing it away when he saw your torn up clothing, He stood up carefully and rummaged through his drawers for a nightshirt he could lend you, the least thing he wants for you right now is to get cold aswell. “Malleus what are you looking for? Get back in bed, I’ll look for it” you stood beside him telling him to rest.

Just then he pulled out one of his nightshirts and gave it to you, “Wear it, you’ll get cold” he said and coughed right after. Your heart softened “Hey…I’m supposed to be the one caring for you…dont do my job” you jokingly scolded as you helped him back to bed. He looked up at you as you put a blanket over him as if begging you to change. Part of him really was concerned that you’d get cold but a part of him just wants to see you in his clothes, to have his scent engulfed in yours. You sighed “Okay…I’ll go change and I’ll be right back” you gave in, kissing his forehead

His nightshirt was way bigger than your size, given that this man is literally 202cm. You went out expecting Malleus to be asleep but instead he was sitting up and looking right your direction, his face shocked, lovestruck, and at the same time tired…. “Malleus…I told you to get some rest” you hands fell your hips as you walked towards him. He pulled you in with his tail, once again wrapping his arms around you, his face buried in your hair and his tail coiling around your leg.

“I cant rest without you beside me…” he mumbled quietly, purring softly, taking in your warmth, you looked up at him smiling, you felt as if you were melting in his arms, you leveled your face with his, inching closer, he closed his eyes expecting a kiss on his lips, but was disappointed when you only kissed his nose…you laughed at his unsatisfied expression.

“My prince, I can’t kiss you there even if I wanted to, I have to take care of you, not get us both sick” you said, touching your forehead with his. He understands but he just really craves for your affection right now, grumbling once again, you were forced to lay him on your chest and shower him with kisses, (except for his lips). Now being satisfied he resumes his purring and cuddled closer to you.

“Wear my clothes more often…” he says, “hm? Why?” You asked, caressing his horns, “You’ll have my scent mixed with yours…that way they’ll know your my beloved…” he says before drifting on to sleep as you felt you get warmer, not even knowing that the reason why, is because of what he said. You didn’t disagree though, you loved wearing his clothes aswell, it makes you feel safe. Slowly your eyelids also grew heavier and the both of you slept in each other’s comfort.

———————————————————

A/N: Hi there, yes I’m back, I’m here, Ready to write again 🥹🤚🏻 please dont tear my soul in half I swear I’m back for real this time. ANYWAYS YKNOW THE DRILL DIDNT PROOF READ THIS ERRORS ARE BOUND TO SAY HI 💀

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland reaction #twst x mc #twst x yuu #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader

[marvelmusing]

Can I Ask You A Question?

Part of The Darkling Wears Prada AU

Pairing: Aleksander Morozov x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Alina has lots of questions about her new job and your boss. Meanwhile, Aleksander has an important question for you - it just takes him some time to realise it.

Warnings [18+]: brief smut, fingering, references to sex, CEO x assistant trope, praise kink

Read part one -> HERE

My Masterlist

“Why is he is nice to you?”

“Who?”

“Aleksander.” When you breathe out a soft laugh, shaking your head at Alina’s question, she leans closer, as if she’s willing you to understand. “Today, he obliterated a designer for picking out the wrong purse.”

“That wrong purse delayed the photoshoot by almost an hour,” you reason.

She tilts her head, clearly waiting for an explanation - why does the infamously fierce Aleksander Morozov have a soft spot for you?

Sighing quietly, you look down at your drink, fidgeting with the stem of your glass.

“I’ve worked for Aleksander for a long time.”

She waits for more.

“I started off in your position - his second assistant. Nina was his first assistant at the time, and I felt like I would never be able to impress him. The first time he really noticed me was the night before his and Luda’s third wedding anniversary.”

“He’s married?”

A frown creases at your brows.

“Not anymore. The divorce was years ago. It made the headlines for days. How do you not-” You shake your head. Just because you know everything that goes on in Aleksander’s life doesn’t mean everyone else does. “Never mind. Nina had taken the night off for a date. I’m sure you’ve noticed, there’s no such thing as a night off when you work for Aleksander.”

Alina nods in agreement.

“A storm came in while he was in Ketterdam, which stopped him from getting on his flight home. No planes were flying in or out of the city.”

“What did you do?”

“Everything I could. I called in a favour with Nikolai, to borrow one of his private jets. Paid for it to land at a private airfield in the Kerch countryside. They managed to charter his flight to Balakriev and I drove two hours to pick him up myself when his usual driver didn’t respond to my calls.”

“And?”

You smile softly.

“He made it home for their anniversary. The last anniversary they had before the divorce.”

“Why did they split up?”

“There was always love in their marriage, but they didn’t understand each other. Aleksander loves his job. He always will. If his partner can’t understand that, the relationship won’t last.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What’s the Morozov rule?” The sound of Alina’s question draws your attention away from the email you’re in the midst of writing. She looks away shyly when you meet her eyes. “Some girls were talking about it in the bathroom earlier.”

Gaze skimming back over the screen of your laptop, you breathe out a quiet scoff.

“Let me guess, the heart-eyed interns?”

She nods.

“A lot of the fashion elites have a specific rule,” you explain. “It’s partially fashion advice, partially PR to make them more memorable.” You click send on your email, changing window to examine Aleksander’s schedule for tomorrow. “Like the Chanel rule - take a look at yourself before you leave the house and remove one item of your outfit.”

Alina listens intently.

“The Morozov rule is to always make sure your underwear matches your shoes. Because at the end of the day, when you take off your dress or your suit that’s all you’ll be wearing.”

A smirk twists at your lips.

“So, if you’re ever wondering what colour underwear Aleksander is wearing, just take a look at his shoes.”

Alina blushes.

“Really?”

“Of course. What kind of a man is he if he doesn’t follow his own rule?”

“How do you know he-”

The sound of Aleksander’s voice rings out from the door to his office, cutting through your conversation with Alina.

“Milaya.”

Responding immediately to your summons, you stand from your desk and make your way into his office. He glances up at you from his papers momentarily, a frown creasing between his brows as his gaze returns to the words in front of him.

“I don’t have anything to wear for my trip to Novyi Zem.” He holds out his credit card, balanced between two of his slim fingers. “I will need enough for six nights. Look at the itinerary for the trip and purchase anything you deem necessary. You know what I like.”

After taking the card from him, you nod.

“Yes, sir. I will be back before your meeting with Nikolai.”

Turning on your heel, you move back towards the door, only for his voice to stop you.

“And milaya?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Take Miss Starkova. If she’s going to gain any sense of style for herself she needs to see someone competent at work.”

“I’ll do my best,” you assure him. Like everyone in the fashion industry, you live for Aleksander’s praise.

The hint of a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.

“As you always do.”

His remark makes your stomach flip.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What’s this?”

Alina peers into the black garment bag curiously.

“A dress. For you. It’s Valentino. One of Aleksander’s picks for the gala.”

She blinks at you in surprise.

“I’m going to the gala?”

You nod.

“Genya will help you get ready. We leave at seven.”

It isn’t long before Aleksander is settling his hand on your lower back, steering the two of you through the crowd at the entrance. Alina looks relieved at the sight of your arrival - you can only imagine how worried she was being surrounded by the flurry of photographers.

As the gala begins, Aleksander claims a corner of the room for himself, waiting for the designers and reporters and politicians to come to him.

Whenever someone approaches your group, you turn your face towards Aleksander, hiding your words in the crook of his neck as you inform him of the names of the people heading his way. His fingers play with the seam of your dress, dancing distractedly down your spine.

Occasionally, you find yourself adjusting the collar of his shirt, fixing the position of his tie, or smoothing down the lapels of his jacket. Just to keep your hands occupied. Unlike a usual gala, where you would be standing one pace behind him, Aleksander keeps you on his arm tonight. Deep down, you know it’s because he doesn’t have a plus one, but it makes you feel special nonetheless.

It’s only once you step out of the little bubble Aleksander always creates, that you stop enjoying yourself. As you place your drinks order at the bar, you attract the attention of Malyen Oretsev - a mediocre journalist - and his friends.

“There she is,” he remarks. “Morozov’s favourite pet.”

Mikhael smirks.

“I don’t know about that, Mal.” He jerks his head towards Aleksander. “Looks like he’s got a shiny new toy to play with.”

Glancing over, you see Alina looking at Aleksander rather bashfully as they seem to be engaged in a somewhat stilted conversation. The sight makes your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Have a nice evening,” you state casually, collecting your drinks before you head back in the direction of Aleksander and Alina.

All night, you try your best to ignore Mikhael’s words, but it seems they’ve burrowed their way into your psyche.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Why can’t I give him the book?”

Alina peers curiously at the book, as you turn the pages slowly to show her the magazine mockups for next month’s issue.

“Aleksander is very selective about who he allows into his house.” Alina seems mildly offended and you decide to soften the blow slightly by adding, “Besides, he usually likes to do a final run through so that he can brief me on tomorrow’s agenda.”

Towards the end of the month, during the final stages of development for the next publication, you usually find yourself working late at Aleksander’s house. Over the years, there’s been countless times when you’ve helped him rework an entire issue in a matter of hours, pouring your ideas together over his kitchen table.

Luckily, this month has been somewhat smooth sailing. Though that doesn’t mean your to-do list isn’t still a mile long. When you’re alone with Aleksander like this, the persona he’s created for himself loosens and he’s patient as you ask him enough questions to be prepared for the day ahead of you tomorrow.

“Anything else?” he asks.

You shake your head, remarking as you bend your neck from side to side,

“All I need now is a hot bath.”

“Use mine,” he states, not even looking up at you as he finishes filing away the pages into the book. “Stay the night.”

“What?”

He raises a brow at you.

“You ought to know by now that I don’t like repeating myself.”

“I- Are you sure?” He gives you a firm look and heat rushes to your cheeks. “Sorry, stupid question. Thank you.”

He shows you into his personal bathroom, a lavish en-suite connected to his bedroom by a wooden folding door. He’s blasé about his toiletries, opening a cupboard to show you before he retreats back into his bedroom.

Once the bath is full of water and a copious amount of bubbles, you slip out of your clothing and into the tub with your hair and makeup still intact. The warmth makes you sigh softly, closing your eyes as you tilt your head back against the rim of the bath. It’s only the sound of the door opening that makes you open your eyes again.

Aleksander stands in the open doorway, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up haphazardly and the buttons undone down to the centre of his chest. His gaze is heated as his eyes remain locked on yours, and despite the intensity you don’t shy away from him.

He circles around the bath tub slowly, his knuckles tracing the curve of your neck when he finally stands behind you.

His thumbs press into the centre of your back, working on the tension in the muscles that no amount of stretching can ease. He moves his hands knowingly, finding the areas that give you the most discomfort after long hours at the office. When he presses the right spot, your back arches, your body pliant in his hold as you breathe out a soft moan.

He smirks, cocky in the fact that he knows only his touch can bring you this sort of relief. His smirk fades slightly, as his focus shifts and he traces his fingers up your back, stroking over your shoulders.

He presses his face against your cheek, his lips brushing over your skin as he breathes in the scent of his soap. Tantalisingly close to a kiss. Then he sinks onto his knees, his hands descending beneath the water.

Turning your head, you’re face to face with Aleksander, your nose brushing against his as he draws a slow line down your body, between the valley of your breasts before he circles your navel.

“May I?” he murmurs.

“Please, Aleksander.”

With one hand, he grasps the back of your neck to limit your squirming, while the other descends downwards to play with your cunt. It’s slow and deliberate, the way he works you up towards your orgasm. The only sound in the room is your breathy gasps and the subtle splash of bath water against the sides of the tub.

It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined what Aleksander might be like in bed. You know you aren’t alone in that. The rumours all paint him in the same light. Dominant. Controlling. Mildly sadistic. That’s what makes the praises that fall from his lips all the more effective.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmurs directly into the crook of your neck. His voice is a soft and soothing rasp. “You’re doing so well for me.” He smiles when you gasp loudly, writhing with unabashed pleasure. “Utterly perfect.”

His words fade away, until all you can hear is the hurried beat of your heart hammering away in your chest as you come astonishingly close to your release.

“Please, Aleksander. I need it. Need you, oh, fuck-”

He rests his hand on the rim of the tub, palm upwards as he anticipates the sudden backwards motion of your head when you reach your climax. As pleasure courses through your body, his hand curls around to cradle the back of your head. He’s silent, eyeing you attentively as the aftereffects slowly wind down.

“Aleksander?” you whisper.

His thumb strokes down the sensitive skin behind your ear.

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

He regards you seriously, his eyes flickering over your features, then he nods. Before you can lean upwards to kiss him, he adds,

“If you do, I won’t be able to stop myself from climbing into this bath to take this further.”

“And if I don’t want you to stop yourself?”

He grips the nape of your neck, directing your mouth to meet his.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Do I have to?” Alina whines, hiding her face with her hands in embarrassment at the thought of heading a few floors down to the lingerie photoshoot to retrieve the file of images taken today.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure her. “Aleksander wants to look at the photos before the models go home for the day.”

“Can’t the photographers just email them to him?”

You shake your head.

“He likes to look at the printouts.”

She sighs.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

She returns with red cheeks, gripping the paper folder tightly in her hands. She doesn’t make eye contact with you as she walks by your desk to give the folder to Aleksander. Almost as soon as she sits down at her desk opposite you, Aleksander calls for you.

“Milaya.”

Alina busies herself with typing as you walk by her, into Aleksander’s office.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’d like your opinion on something.” He selects a page, turning it over in his hand so that he’s offering it to you. “What do you think of this?”

Taking the page in hand, you look down at the two images, side by side. The first is a close up of a model wearing an unbelievably expensive bralette.

Pale blue boning, covered in a soft mesh a few shades lighter. The entire garment has been decorated with intricate embroidery, adorned in pearls and tiny gems that create the illusion of flowers. The image beside it shows off the matching thong - a tiny triangle of fabric embellished with the same exquisite details.

“The photos?”

He shakes his head.

“The outfit. Would you wear something like this?”

Heat spreads over your cheeks at his question.

“I would. It’s very pretty.”

“Do you like the colour?” he asks, selecting another page to show you. “Or do you prefer the pink?”

After considering both pieces, you admit quietly,

“I like the blue.”

He hums.

“Very well.” He holds out his hand expectingly and you place the pages back in his palm. “Your measurements haven’t changed have they?”

His question makes your brows scrunch together in confusion.

“No, sir.”

“The designer is creating a custom piece as a gift for me. Offering it to anyone else in this building but you would be a waste.”

“A waste?”

He nods, not looking up at you.

“That’s all.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What’s wrong?” Alina asks you.

She must have noticed your anxious fidgeting; you’ve straightened the same pen on your desk four times already. But you can’t tell her what is actually on your mind.

“Nothing. I’m just keeping an eye on the time. Aleksander’s driver should be arriving soon.”

Sure enough, your phone rings and Aleksander’s driver is on the line, informing you that he’s parked outside the building. Once you’ve retrieved Aleksander, you accompany him down in the elevator.

He lists a few tasks for you to complete while he is out at his meeting and you distractedly make a note of them all. It’s only once the two of you are out in the fresh air, that you’re able to speak.

“I need to talk to you.” He doesn’t turn, ignoring you until you grasp at his sleeve, just as he reaches his car. “Aleksander.”

He turns to face you.

“What is it?”

Instantly, the weight of his eyes makes you nervous. Of course, you’ve thought about what you want to say to him but now the words fail you. The Aleksander in front of you now is different from the one you were with the other night.

“It’s about that night at your house,” you clarify. “I don’t want any special treatment because of what happened between us.”

He raises a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

“Special treatment?” he repeats.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the set you offered me, but I don’t want anyone to think you’re favouring me.”

“Tell me about the designer of that piece.”

“She’s a Ravkan designer. All her work is couture, with hand stitched embroidery and embellishments. The pearls and gems are all sourced sustainably; she limits her collection to only forty pieces per style to minimise the environmental impact…”

When you realise how much you’re talking - about things that Aleksander most likely knows already - your words trail off into nothing. His mouth quirks into a half-smile that he quickly smoothes out into a more neutral expression.

“You are the one of the few people who understand the value of that design,” he says in a low voice. “And that is the only reason I wanted you to have it.”

“The only reason?” you repeat, hoping that he might have wanted you to have the lingerie because you would look good in it.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he glances down at the front of your top, eyeing the skin on show there briefly before he turns away, leaving you in shock as he climbs into his car. Did Aleksander just eye up your cleavage?

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Are those new?”

Alina’s question makes you peer down at your shoes - the object of her attention - and you smile.

“Yes. They are.”

The pale blue of your shoes are an almost perfect match to the lingerie set Aleksander had gifted to you - not to mention the heels are adorned in shimmering gems and pearls.

Alina takes the time to admire them, as the two of you stand beside the printer.

“Miss Starkova,” Aleksander calls out, standing in the doorway between his office and the one you share with Alina. “I need ten scarves from Gucci, and fetch my coffee on your way back in.”

Alina glances at you momentarily, wide eyed, before she nods resolutely.

“Yes, sir.”

There’s an anxious edge to her movements as she grabs her phone and bag, but she seems determined to adhere to Aleksander’s demands on her own this time. Both you and Aleksander watch her leave.

When you turn back to face him, Aleksander’s gaze is sweeping down your body, assessing your outfit as he always does, yet he lingers on your shoes for a moment. His throat bobs lightly as he swallows, his eyes darkening as they meet yours.

“A perfect match,” he observes.

Before you can respond, he turns and walks back into his office.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Where have you been?” Alina asks, shifting her weight anxiously on the pavement.

Cheeks flushing with warmth, you wipe at your lower lip with your thumb to ensure your makeup is still intact. The two of you head up the steps, into the entrance of Cartier.

“The car got caught in traffic.”

“Aleksander must have been furious.” You hum rather distractedly in agreement, smoothing down your skirt.

“He’s waiting in the car now, so we’ll have to make this quick.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Where are you going?” Alina asks, turning to watch as you back away down the pavement. “I thought we were celebrating.” The last night of fashion week, the pinnacle of all your hard work over the last year has been finally reached.

It’s been almost a year since Alina first started working alongside you, but you don’t yet trust her with the full truth when you answer.

“I’m going to head back to the hotel,” you tell her before adding, “I’m exhausted.”

“Do you want me to walk with you?”

Shaking your head, you tuck your coat tighter around your body.

“I’ll be fine, thanks. Go enjoy yourself.”

When you finally reach your hotel bed, you collapse onto the mattress, still wearing your coat and shoes. It’s completely unintentional, the way you fall asleep draped over the bed.

After an indeterminable amount of time passes, a kiss is pressed to your cheek, rousing you from your slumber as someone nestles themselves over your body.

“Hello there, sleeping beauty,” a familiar voice coos playfully. Blinking the drowsiness from your eyes, you murmur a mildly bemused response,

“Sasha?”

He laughs softly.

“Who else, milaya?” He presses another kiss to your cheek, his lips moving toward your ear. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I stuck my head in the study,” you explain sleepily. “You were working… didn’t want to disturb you.”

He slips your coat off your shoulders, lowering kisses across your neck and collarbones as he reaches for the zipper on the back of your dress.

“You should have. I would have come to bed hours ago had I known you were back.”

“I’m so tired,” you murmur as your eyelids droop. Aleksander smiles fondly, pulling your dress down your body.

“You outdid yourself this year.” A pleased smile lifts the corners of your mouth. Aleksander lifts himself off the bed, crossing the room towards the en-suite. “The Starkova girl has improved,” he states, wringing out a cloth. “You seem to like this one.”

“I do,” you confirm, kicking your shoes off onto the floor. “She’s nice, though she’s been asking a lot of questions lately.”

“About us?”

“About you, mostly. I think she has a crush.”

“Poor girl,” he remarks drily as he sits down beside you and begins to wipe the makeup from your face. “Have you told her about us?”

“I thought you wanted this to be a secret?”

He shakes his head.

“I want to keep you safe. From the press and the gossip that follows me. Besides, I know how much you love working for the magazine. I would hate to jeopardise that.”

“Well, I might find something that I enjoy more than working as your assistant.”

“Such as?”

The smile you give him is soft as you fidget with the creases in his trousers.

“Your wife.”

His own smile is boyish as he teases,

“That is quite the promotion you’re offering yourself.” Then his expression grows more serious. “Even as my wife, I wouldn’t expect you to give up your job - not unless you wanted to.”

That makes your smile widen, your cheeks warming at the casual tone his voice adopts when considering you as his wife.

“Besides,” he adds. “Where would I find someone as capable as you?”

“I could mentor Alina.”

He hums, unconvinced, and you laugh at the sight of his apprehension. It’s sweet, knowing you’ve taken such a root in Aleksander’s life. He trusts you, unconditionally.

“I’m not handing my notice in yet,” you tease him, before adding with a small laugh, “Unless you’re planning on proposing tonight.”

Aleksander doesn’t laugh.

“Sasha?”

The corner of his lips quirk with the hint of a laugh, embarrassment touching at his features.

“I-” He sighs, shaking his head as his smile widens. “You’ve ruined the surprise.”

“Sasha,” you repeat, thoroughly caught off guard. “You’re not serious.”

“Of course I am.”

“Aleksander, I’m not wearing any makeup. I’m in my underwear.”

He doesn’t look impressed by your protests.

“Milaya, if you’re finished making rather obvious statements, I’d like to propose to you.”

The look he gives you has your lips pressing closed, giving him the chance to speak. Almost immediately, your excitement spills over your expression - a giddy smile tugging at your lips. Aleksander smiles fondly, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he admires you.

“I can’t believe you used to hide this from me. My pretty girl.”

“Well, dating the Aleksander Morozov was rather daunting at first,” you admit bashfully. He tilts his head at you.

“And do you think you can marry the Aleksander Morozov?”

Being married to Aleksander will attract attention - the kind that you’re unused to. The entire world will have something to say about you - what you wear, how you act - it will all be scrutinised by the tabloids and the social media comments. But he’s worth it, a million times over.

“I will if he actually asks me,” you remark teasingly.

He breathes out a laugh, kissing your cheek.

“Let me fetch the ring.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @acehyacinth

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla @the-desilittle-bird

#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

[sleepyangelkami]

pastors daughter was so good 😖😖 a pt 2 would be so cool 🎀🤍

PASTORS DAUGHTER II e.williams

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 5.4K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - ellie williams can't seem to stay away from the pastors daughter and a certain memory is engraved in both their minds. the only problem was, while one was all but drunk off the past image, the other was doing everything in her power to wash it away. luckily for them, one was much more intent on getting what they wanted than the other, so much so that it sufficed for them both.

 ☆ WARNINGS - homophobia, internal homophobia, kisses ;), religious 'trauma'?, reader being stupid asf, my shitty writing, innocence kink, corruption kink, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

series masterlist

ash/ashley = readers sister.

there were many things ellie williams felt that night, ecstasy, relief, pure and utter bliss. what she didn't think, however, was that it would lead to her sitting in a seat by herself in her kitchen, a hand on her forehead as she skimmed through her thoughts as if she were an absolute idiot. when her lips were on yours, wet kisses pushing roughly against your so obviously 'unkissed' pout. you were knew to it, never have kissed anyone before but how could you? when you wore a silver cross necklace so proudly, you spent most your time cooped up in the little church across the road, you couldn't ever have even gotten close enough. there was such pride that ellie had swooning through her as she placed the very first kiss ever on your lips. it was pure bliss, to finally get what she had wanted for so long, to have you right where she wanted. everything was... perfect.

until, you ran away.

almost a week had passed, no call, no text, not even a mumble of a hello in the hallway. you did everything in your power to run the opposite direction upon seeing ellie anywhere near you. suddenly, you had choir more often, you had violin class too, along with the many other clubs you had joined. suddenly, you spent near no time in your own house let alone when ellie was standing in it.

of course, guilt racked your thoughts. the way her face seemed to contort as you pulled away from her, making a sound that didn't sound as though you were happy. panic stricken face as you couldn't even look at her own heartbreaking one. guilt consumed you everywhere you went. when you sat inside a church, thinking of the very reason you had to run away, when you saw a couple holding hands knowing that it was only reminding you of ellie williams and when you saw her in the hall, when her face lit up at the sight of you and when you pushed yourself into the nearest cubicle you could find simply to avoid her.

but how could you face her now? knowing you had committed the very sin you had swore against every devil you would never do. how could you look at her knowing that every inch of you was aching to be with her, and that was so wrong.

a text caused your body to jolt ever so slightly, a vibration being sent through your leg as you glanced down at your phone in which was sitting in your lap.

it was english class and mr. lionel was currently giving out to three girls, they hadn't stopped talking upon entering the class and mr. lionel had just about enough. you glanced down at the phone, biting your bottom lip, surely, the man wouldn't notice. you had never exactly went on your phone in class, then again, no one texted you really aside from ashley but she never texted at this hour, no, she was either ditching school to sleep or in one of the classes she liked best, either way, she wouldn't be texting you at such a time. you chewed down on your bottom lip, the thought of getting caught, getting in trouble was enough to send your stomach pit falling down to your ankles. but you did, because lately you seemed to be doing just about everything you weren't supposed to. glancing down, you slowly turned your phone upwards so the screen was facing you and you could read the little words that littered across it.

unknown: hey this is max, listen i know everything happened between us but i need to see you. behind the school at 4:00. don't be late.

weird, you thought you still had maxine's contact saved but nevertheless brushed it off. your pit in your stomach grew, worsening as you opened the message to type back. you didn't want to meet her, if you did and by chance, your parents found out, you would never be let see the light of day again. but maxine needed you. and whether that was to help fix a problem or scream at her one last time you knew you owed her that much. so, you pattered your fingertips against the dark screen, ignoring the haunting feeling that someone may see you, guilt swarming your every move. you truly didn't know how to break the news to maxine and ruth that you were never permitted to speak to them again and while they seemed oh so understanding, you couldn't help the guilt that prodded against you as they hugged you for the last time. you also, as much as you'd like to admit it, couldn't keep the tears at bay that day.

"y/n." your eyes snapped towards your teacher, phone plopping back in your lap just as you sent the text through. he was giving you a suspicious eye, catching you on your phone. but he wouldn't humiliate you, not in front of your peers at least, no, he'd never, after all you were his favourite student. "can you tell me which poetic technique is shown here?"

"uhm." squirming in your seat as your eyes fell onto the board. "oxymoron, contrasting between the light and dark." mumbling so low he could barely hear you, but nonetheless he grinned and like that, he continued on with class, something you were oh so grateful for.

the end of school neared dangerously closer as you ended up in the front of maths class, scribbling down trigonometric ratios while your stomach twisted over and over, the thoughts of seeing maxine after school could only cause your brain to absolutely fry. you were thankful she had picked behind the school, no one went there after school so naturally it was the most private place to be, you wondered if she did that for you or for herself, so she could yell at you in peace. while you were sure you didn't wish to be yelled at you knew you deserved it. for the first time in that whole week, ellie williams wasn't on your mind, just those two friends that you missed ever so dearly and yet couldn't even communicate to.

as soon as the bell rang through your ears, you scooped up your pretty pink bag and stuffed all your belongings inside. with pencils almost falling out of your pencil case, you crushed everything together and zipped up your bag with great effort. you didn't so much as bid the teacher goodbye before you were on your feet, ignoring the way your mary janes skid across the hallway floors but instead focusing on how much faster you could get there, you didn't wish to be late. after all, she had specified you not do so. the school was large but thankfully you knew it like the back of your hand.

gripping the straps of your pretty bag against your shoulders, you all but ran toward the other side of the school. checking your back and over your shoulder you realised that no, you were not being followed just extra paranoid. how could you not? when you had practically burned bridges with just about everyone. you blinked heavily, readying yourself to turn the corner and be met with a very angry maxine.

you weren't met with an angry maxine because you weren't met with maxine at all.

ellie williams stood with her back to the wall, stomping out a cigarette with her foot. you stood frozen, eyes wide and at first you believed it could be some mistake, some mix up but by the way her eyes lit up when her head turned towards you, it certainly was no mistake. "y/n, you came."

you gave her a look with furrowed brows. "you pretended to be max." it wasn't a question, it was a statement.

ellie pushed her back from the wall, moving towards you. "look, i know it was fucked up, i know but y'wanna know what else is fucked up? ignoring me for a whole week." you looked around, hands holding yourself close as you hoped and prayed that no one saw the two of you conversing. something about standing with ellie made you feel so... filthy. "i mean what the fuck was that?" as bad as it sounded, the crude language felt so refreshing to hear tumbling from her lips.

your hands scratched at opposite arms. "ellie, we shouldn't do this here... now." any excuse to get yourself right out of this situation as fast as humanly possible. guilt swarmed your entire being. "i— i'm sorry, for ignoring you and for-" you sighed heavily, looking away while you fought back the burning in your irises. "for everything that happened." the wet, open mouthed kiss that made you forget jesus' name. "and i'm sorry but it's not gonna work." you were shrinking in on yourself, in your very own arms with a sad puppy look in your eyes, you bit down harshly on your bottom lip.

ellie watched you intently, arms to her eyes as she studied your own feeble ones, doing a rather shitty attempt at covering your body. "funny." she scoffed, eyes never leaving your own glasses over ones that couldn't seem to gaze into hers. "you were pretty sure it wasn't gonna happen before you kissed me too." eyes as wide as saucers, you swiftly turned your head around, worried someone may hear. you couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of reaction people would have to know that the pastors daughter had kissed a girl. "you wanna know what i think?" stepping closer to you as your breath caught in your throat, no you didn't want to know what she thought of the situation as you'd much rather there be no situation at all. "i think you're a liar." you swallowed harshly, mumbling a sheer 'stop' as she walked closer towards you. and yet, you made no movement to step back. "you liked everything about that night, admit it." her voice dropped as the dark clouds surrounded the sky seemed even darker, heavier. there was a sudden change in the atmosphere, one in which almost made you think a thunder storm was on it's way. "you wanted my lips on yours, to feel me against you, to soothe that ache between—"

she was caught off abruptly by you, who hadn't uttered a word but instead shot your hand forward instantly, shoving it over her mouth so she couldn't continue her sentence. upon shoving your hand on her mouth, you had Accidentally pushed her, she took the opportunity to seize your upper arms. she all but threw herself backwards, bringing you with her. her back hit the wall, you stood in front of her, eyes wide and breath picking up as your hand stayed on her lips, her hands on your arms.

you made a noise, one that told you and her that you didn't wish to move but you felt as though you simply had to. and she could understand, to a certain extent she supposed. you were good girl y/n who could never do any wrong, something about someone spotting you with her, the delinquent ellie williams, pressing her against a wall, was absolutely teeth rottingly addictive. she wanted someone to turn the corner, she wanted people to see, to know that the precious gem of the town y/n l/n was all hers and no one could do anything about it.

your breath slowed and your eyes racked over every perfect imperfection dotted on her face. her freckles looked lighter in this lighting and though you were a great deal smaller than her, your hand wound around the bottom half of her face easily. your chest heaved, as did hers and you could feel it. when she had practically thrown herself backwards she had let you stumble so far that you were chest to chest and horrendously flustered.

ellie however, seemed to be enjoying herself. you couldn't see her lips but you could feel her pretty smirk against the skin of your dainty hands, the way her brows relaxed and her sage eyes gave you this drunk look. to her, she did feel drunk, she was drunk off of you, your innocence, purity, kindness, your big bad secret that only she knew.

you blinked when you felt her hand against your face, though you didn't flinch nor recoil away, she saw that as a good sign. her tattooed arm was raised, hand slowly brushing against your soft skin. her thumb trailed across your cheek and towards your lips, dragging it against your pretty skin, you almost gasped out. you weren't doing this again, you couldn't.

the gentle yet sudden patter of raindrops against your head caused you to instantly pull away. "I— i have to go." you almost spat out in sheer panic. and for the second time, you ran away. but this time, ellie didn't call your name or run a hand through her hair with stress evident on her face, no.

ellie leaned against the wall, watching as you all but sprinted away from her, your pretty dress bouncing against the back of your legs, she wondered what color the fabric that sat beneath the dress was. she had this smirk on her face, one that you of course would have wished to wipe off more than anything but how couldn't she? she had seen that look in your eye, that unfamiliar lust filling your pretty irises as you raked your eyes over her face. the slight confusion to why you had felt this way and yet everything about you seemed so comforted by her and yet so so tense. she knew then and there that it was not over.

ellie still had a chance to change your mind.

"is daddy gonna go after church?" you questioned to your sister as you held the church baskets you had been cleaning close in your hands. it been three days since you spoke with ellie, it was a saturday, and it was the day that your sister and her school year had their parent teacher meetings. you were lucky, you had them at the very start of the year.

"yeah." she stomped on the cigarette and waited for it to grow damp in the soil. "said he's gonna bring mom too." this caused you to furrow your brows as you continued on your journey.

"but mama never goes to those things?" your mind couldn't stand the thought of ellie williams, how you had caved so easily. she had gotten so close to what she wanted and you couldn't let that happen. however, after three days of no contact, she no longer seemed to be around when you were, you supposed she had gotten the hint. you were relieved, to say the least and had repented for whatever sins you could that past week, however you couldn't stop that burning chest in your feeling when you thought of her. you wondered, what she thinking about you too?

your sister tsked. "yeah but they wanna get sympathy for having such a screw up of a daughter." she spoke with an almost sarcastic tone. "best way to do that is to talk to my teachers about how hard it is to raise me."

you gave her sympathetic eyes as you pushed the church doors open, mass would be starting any minute now. you were never late to mass, unless of course you walked with ashley, it happened to be one of those days. "you're not a screw up, ash." she gave you a ghost of a smile one that did not quite reach her eyes.

"thanks loser, 'ppreciate it." some said you were daises and the sun, and ashley was only orchids and the moon, a beautiful combination that never failed to amuse anyone. i mean, wouldn't it look odd? to see a girl with dark hair and hot pink highlights, chains on her jeans, her nails always painted black whether they were full or chipped, some form of polish always coating them. and then there was you, pretty natural hair sitting on your shoulders and always in a dress or a skirt, only wearing bright colors. you wore little to no makeup, not because you weren't allowed but because you simply weren't good at it. so, you opted for a natural face while your sister always had some form of eyeshadow on, her waterlines filled in black. "woah, what the fuck are you doing here?" you furrowed your brows at your sister, who was looking right over you. spinning around, you were not ready for the sight you were met with.

ellie williams cleaned up nicely when she wanted to.

she wore a brown button up and a jeans, her hair was freshly cut and her tattoo was on show. you had seen it before, of course, from the many short sleeves she wore around you however it had never been on display in front of your parents let alone in the church. speaking of which, she never came to church either. after the first night ellie had been begged to go to church with ashley, she swore off it, first, she almost dropped the baby jesus in which had been passed to her by ashley, then she had to shake a bunch of old women's hands during mass and was sat next to some kid who wouldn't stop touching her feet as they crawled around the kneeler, then she realised she couldn't even get a good view of you, the main reason she had stayed through the entire mass, because some old bald man had sat in front of her and stood too tall. she didn't go to church because she didn't believe in god too, that was a main factor she supposed. she shouldn't be here, you thought. not because she didn't deserve the right to worship the lord but because you knew by the way her eyes raked up your body that she was not here for a mass ceremony. "what? too late to get into heaven?" she shot you a glance, almost one of accusation. the truth was, you didn't think you were going to hell, how could you when you did just about everything for god himself. in fact, you were sure you were more religious than your father. but the bible was outdated, that was the reason there was a new testament. god wasn't going to punish you for feeling how you felt because if the story of god was true, he made you with every perfect imperfection, not that you'd exactly call such a thing an imperfection. sometimes, you wondered if your father truly believed that being gay was wrong because of god or if he was just hiding behind such a fact because he was scared that he truly didn't have a reason not to like someone for being such a way. "sweetheart." a smirk dancing on her lips as she nodded her head at you. yeah, she definitely did not get the hint.

you turned to your sister with a small huff. "could you put these by the benches, please?" she nodded, taking the baskets from your hands. "thank you." and you turned back to ellie williams. "you have mud on your nose." watching as her face scrunched up and her hand came up to wipe it away, her long fingers stretching— you shook your head free of the thoughts before scrambling up to the alter to get into the sacristy.

when mass started, you did everything in your power to avert your eyes from ellie williams, sitting so smugly in the audience. she knew what she was doing, spreading her legs apart with her elbows resting towards her knees, her eyes never left your face.

you, however, looked straight forward with your tight chest and mumbling words from time to time. you pretended to be interested in the sheet you were holding, following along the words in your mind as your father read them out from the top of the alter. he read smoothly, not a stutter in his voice. you longed to have such confidence, to not shake like a leaf when presenting a project, to have the confidence to look ellie fucking williams in the eye and not shy away, to have the confidence to admit it even if it was just in your mind that you felt the way you weren't supposed to. you liked the forbidden fruit. the words formed so clearly in your mind. i like gi— "and now may we rise for the holy communion." giving out holy bread, your eyes concentrated back on the task, that was you're job. well, you and three other people.

you all but scrambled towards the bowel in which held the holy bread, grasping it and going to the right of the alter, ashley went to the left and two of the church boys went to the middle, all with your own holy bread dishes. ashley was rolling her eyes, mumbling the words under her breath. one of the older women came up to her, instead of holding out their hands they opened their mouth, her eyes went wide and she turned towards you, giving you both a shocked and disgusted look. you gave her a warning look, gesturing towards your father who was watching her like a hawk. she grimaced before placing it inside the womans mouth.

giggling to yourself, you turned back with a grin on your face. it dropped suddenly at the sight of ellie williams standing in front of you, looking as innocent as ever (not). you gave her a stern look, as if to tell her stop playing her little games and especially here of all places. "body of christ." you mumbled beneath your breath as your hand moved towards the bowel once more, picking up a rounded piece of holy bread.

"amen." she said the word in the cockiest tone you had ever heard in your entire life. but you fought back an eye roll, instead you just held it up, ready to place it in her left hand, the idiot would probably hold out the right hand instead. you internally groaned, ready for her to show just how much she respects the religion. your expression blanked as she opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue. your breath stuttered, in front of everyone. no one was looking, no one cared. and yet you felt as though you were on stage with an enlarged audience.

your hand wobbled. "what are you doing?" you whispered to her, noticing how people were conversing, not bothering to glance at who was receiving holy bread and your father was too focused on ashley to so much as glance your way.

she smirked, closing her mouth momentarily. "getting my holy bread." she spoke as if it were painfully obvious. opening her mouth again, she flattened her tongue across her bottom lip, you pretended your chest didn't clench and neither did your thighs. you could imagine that tongue doing a painfully soft attack against your neck, that was all you knew could happen with a tongue. ellie, however, had many other things in mind of just where she wanted her tongue when it came to you. it was humorous, how your sinful thoughts were still somewhat innocent but ellie's... ellie's thoughts were nothing short of the devil herself's thoughts feulling into her brain. you placed the holy bread against her tongue, ignoring the way it wet your thumb ever so slightly. she closed her lips, giving you a smug type of look. "thanks, angel." and you were left with clenched thighs, dusty cheeks, flustered head and a ditsy feeling. you glanced down at the small patch of saliva on your thumb and all you could think about was that night.

"i— i think you should go." but you didn't want her to go, you really didn't want her to go.

"you wan't me here?" as a wet kiss came down to the skin of your neck, you gasped out, blinking. this was a dream, it had to be. you felt almost euphoric as her lips flattened against the crook of your neck, the way they kissed you so delicately as if you were made of glass. she moved her head back up almost instantly, as if her own actions weren't affecting her. her lips brushed against your own, so closely that you could taste her. "or here?"

you weren't proud of what you did next.

you didn't pull away nor make any attempts to get away, in fact, you reached your face up to meet her own. her face crashed down rather swiftly, so fast that you could barely register the way her lips rammed right into your own.

you had never kissed anyone before, never even thought of so aside from her. you breathed heavily, she swallowed your heaves and gasps into her own mouth, she pushed a hand up to hold your neck in place the other steady on your hip as her tongue pressed against your bottom lip.

this euphoric feeling hit you like a tonne of bricks, you suddenly felt that nothing was impossible, that this life for you was somewhat of an option. but it wasn't because euphoria doesn't last forever, it can't because there needs to be something to cancel it out so you get to feel that way. otherwise, wouldn't euphoria feel normal? that would mean that bad was despair and good simply wasn't enough. but this. this was too much.

you pulled away harshly, tears coating the glass of your eyes. " 'm sorry— 'm sorry i can't." and you ran. you ran out of the kitchen, up the stairs and right into your bedroom. you could still see that look of heartbreak on her face. you slid down the door, hand on your chest and knees bunched up. you were nothing short of an absolute idiot. you breathed heavily but this time there were no big soothing hands or the lulling that only ellie william's voice could control. you felt panic overcome you. you weren't gay. you couldn't be. and you certainly weren't falling for ellie williams.

oh, but you were, you were so desperately in love with her since the day you saw her and her stupid auburn hair or her stupid freckles, how about her stupid green eyes. stupid. stupid. stupid. but so lovely.

you sat inside your bedroom once more, fingers softly padding against your bottom lip. you were the stupid one, you were beginning to realise. it was just so hard. to love a girl so much and yet know that it was either her or everything you had ever worked for. that decision was already made, not by your father, your mother, your sister, ellie.... by you. you'd choose it over and over again.

you'd choose her.

a bang on your window caused you to jump harshly, twisting your whole body towards your window, it was dark out but you could make out ellie williams lean figure from a mile away. however, she seemed a little more entangled now. she was kicking a wire off her foot, cursing so loudly that you could hear her from the inside of your bedroom. what on earth was she doing? ashley was at the parent teacher meeting with your mother and father so it was only you inside the bedroom, alone, well, you supposed you weren't alone when you had the dits of a girl outside your bedroom window. "fuck! ow, ow!" as she almost face planted against your window. you had enough. you stood and rapidly scrambled towards the window, pulling it open and it seemed as though the girl hadn't been expecting it because she fell straight through it. "fuck, oh, that worked." she stood instantly, brushing off her jeans. she hadn't changed since the church, you, however, were already dressed in your silkiest pijamas. "hey, hello..." panting before straining her eyes back on you, she relaxed, a lazy smile on her face. "hi."

you almost laughed. almost. "do you know what time it is, ellie?" but you didn't seem mad, not by the way you shut the window for her to stay and took a seat on your window bench. she shook her head, eyes glancing around your childish yet pretty bedroom, right, she had never been in there. you silently cursed the stuffed animals sitting on your bed. her eye caught them and grinned. "aren't you supposed to be at the parent teacher meeting?"

"Oh, that shitty thing? hell no, joel already knows what a pain in his ass i am, he doesn't need to hear another ten people complain about it." waving her hand as she leaned against your dresses, glancing at the perfumes that drove her crazy whenever she passed you. "so... this is your bedroom."

she was stalling. "els?" she glanced up at the familliar nickname rolling from your lips. "what are you doing here?" she didn't respond and you fiddled with one of the stuffed animals that sat on your bench. "i don't think you should come back to the church, ellie?"

"why? because i'm gay?" as if it were an accusation, right at the fact that you too, somewhere deep inside you could admit, that you too shared the liking towards girls. and hey, you were the most popular church girl in all of your town. so why did sexuality have to define religion? short answer, it didn't, ellie knew you knew so too but she needed to know the truth, if her stares truly made you as nervous as yours made hers. she needed to know how you felt and what part she played in that.

you cocked your head to the side."no, ellie, because you're not there to 'get into heaven'." repeating her previous words back to her with a small scowl attached to your face. she wasn't there for god nor was she there for jesus. she was there for you. as much as you hated to admit it. it sounded absurd, something you never would have guessed. someone coming to church for you? it was surreal, even more so fact that she was a girl.

she tilted her head. "really? says who?" teasing. because that was just what ellie williams did best.

"ellie..." you trailed off, trying to find your words. the way her eyes raked up your body could only leave you standing silly. she knew the effect she had on you and she did it anyway, in fact, you were beginning to think that she did it because of the effect it had on you. "you don't believe in god." putting it in the most simple form you possibly could. not relating yourself. that alone was dangerous.

"no. but i believe in you." your eyes looked up. "if you're there. i'm there." your heart melted. you were on very dangerous ice ready to collapse at any second.

standing from the bench. "ellie—" she was quick to cut you off and for that you would be forever grateful.

"no." she shook her head. "i'm sorry, but we're not doing this again." she stepped closer, inching her way towards you. you could only breathe in, a sigh that you knew was coming, you knew this was coming.

and for the first time... you were ready. "okay." she inched impossibly closer. "but ellie..." you trailed off. "you have to know that if we start this— i- i won't be able to stop." god was going to punish you for this one.

"good." her hand was suddenly on your face, slowly tracing around your soft skin. "because i don't plan on stopping anytime soon, either." she leaned her face in closer, her breathe bore into your own, your head tilted up to meet hers.

this time, panic wasn't running through you, you had accepted your fate, the fact that you couldn't get away from ellie even if you tried because whether you liked it or not, you were so madly in love with your sisters best friend and that wasn't going to change, no matter how many times you sat at your bed on your knees, hands bound together and praying to god that he got rid of these feelings.

"y/n..." face so close you could feel her nose tip against yours.

you hummed, lips grazing.

" 'm gonna kiss you now." she mumbled.

"okay." you breathed.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

#ellie #williams #ellie the last of us #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams angst #ellie williams #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams au #elliie williams drabble #ellie williams smutt #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams drabble #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us x reader #the last of us imagine